'No. Unless--' an idea struck me--'You're not going to run away?'
Bradshaw scorned to answer the question.
'Now you'd better buck up with your work,' he said, opening his book
again. 'You've got about as long odds as anyone ever got. But you'll
lose all the same.'
It scarcely seemed possible. And yet--Bradshaw was generally right. If
he said he had a scheme for doing--though it was generally for not
doing--something, it rarely failed to come off. I thought of my
sixpence, my only sixpence, and felt a distinct pang of remorse. After
all, only the other day the chaplain had said how wrong it was to bet.
By Jove, so he had. Decent man the chaplain. Pity to do anything he
would disapprove of. I was on the point of recalling my wager, when
before my mind's eye rose a vision of Bradshaw rampant and sneering,
and myself writhing in my chair a crushed and scored-off wreck. I drew
the line at that. I valued my self-respect at more than sixpence. If it
had been a shilling now--. So I set my teeth and turned once more to my
Thucydides. Bradshaw, having picked up the thread of his story again,
emitted hoarse chuckles like minute guns, until I very nearly rose and
fell upon him. It is maddening to listen to a person laughing and not
to know the joke.
'You will be allowed two hours for this paper,' said Mellish on the
following afternoon, as he returned to his desk after distributing the
Thucydides questions. 'At five minutes to four I shall begin to collect
your papers, but those who wish may go on till ten past. Write only on
one side of the paper, and put your names in the top right-hand corner.
Marks will be given for neatness. Any boy whom I see looking at his
neighbour's--_where's Bradshaw?_'
It was already five minutes past the hour. The latest of the late
always had the decency to appear at least by three minutes past.
'Has anybody seen Bradshaw?' repeated Mellish. 'You,
what's-your-name--' (I am what's-your-name, very much at your
service) '--you are in his House. Have you seen him?'
I could have pointed out with some pleasure at this juncture that if
Cain expressed indignation at being asked where his brother was, I, by
a simple sum in proportion, might with even greater justice feel
annoyed at having to locate a person who was no relative of mine at
all. Did Mr Mellish expect me to keep an eye on every member of my
House? Did Mr Mellish--in short, what did he mean by it?