“What have we here--a man or a fish?”
--The Tempest.
'“The devil he baited a trap,
With billiard balls and a cue;
And he chose as marker,
An imp much darker
Than all the rest in hue.
And he put on his Sunday clothes,
And he played with saint and with sinner,
For he'd found out a way
To make the thing pay,
And when losing, _He still was the winner!_”
--_Old Legend_.
THE moment Dr. Mildman arrived at home the next day Lawless watched him
into his study, and, as soon as he was safely lodged therein, proceeded,
by the aid of sundry nails and loops previously placed there for the
purpose, to hang his Macintosh right across the passage, so that no
one could leave the study without running against it. He then ambushed
himself near the open door of the pupils' room, where, unseen himself,
he could observe the effect of his arrangements. Coleman and I,
also taking a lively interest in the event, ensconced ourselves in a
favourable position for seeing and hearing. After waiting till our small
stock of patience was nearly exhausted, we were rewarded by hearing the
study-door slowly open, followed by the tread of a well-known footstep
in the passage. The next sound that reached ~60~~our ears was a quick
shuffling of feet upon the oil-cloth, as if the person advancing had
“shyed” at some unexpected object; then came the muttered exclamation,
“Bless my heart, what's this?” And immediately afterwards Dr. Mildman's
face, wearing an expression of the most thorough perplexity and
bewilderment, appeared cautiously peeping from behind the Macintosh.
Having apparently satisfied himself that no enemy was concealed there,
and he had nothing further to fear, but that the whole plot was
centred as it were in the mysterious garment before him, he set himself
seriously to work to examine it. First he pulled out his eye-glass and,
stepping back a pace or two, took a general survey of the whole; he then
approached it again, and taking hold of it in different places with
his hand, examined it in detail so closely that it seemed as if he were
trying to count the number of threads. Being apparently unwilling in so
difficult an investigation to trust to the evidence of any one sense,
he replaced his eye-glass in his waistcoat pocket, and began rubbing
a portion of the skirt between his hands; the sense of touch failing,
however, to throw any new light upon the subject, as a sort of forlorn
hope, he applied his nose to it. The result of this was an indescribable
exclamation, expressive of intense disgust, followed immediately by a
violent sneeze; then came a long pause, as though he were considering
of what possible use such a garment could be. At length a ray of light
seemed to break in upon the darkness, and once more laying hands on the
Macintosh he proceeded, after unhooking it from the nails on which it
hung, slowly and deliberately to put it on, with the back part foremost,
somewhat after the fashion of a child's pinafore. Having at length
accomplished this difficult operation, he walked, or rather shuffled
(for his petticoats interfered greatly with the free use of his limbs),
up and down the hall, with a grave, not to say solemn, expression of
countenance. Appearing perfectly satisfied after one or two turns that
he had at last solved the enigma, he divested himself of the perplexing
garment, hung it on a peg appropriated to great-coats, and approached
the door of the pupils' room.
By the time he entered Lawless was seated at his desk studying
Herodotus, while Coleman and I were deeply immersed in our respective
Euclids.
After shaking hands with Oaklands, and addressing some good-natured
remarks to each of us in turn, he went up to Lawless, and, laying his
hand kindly on his shoulder, said, with a half-smile:--
~61~~“I am afraid I have made rather an absurd mistake about that
strange garment of yours, Lawless; I suppose it is some new kind of
greatcoat, is it not?”
“Yes, sir, it is a sort of waterproof cloth, made with Indian rubber.”
“Indian rubber, is it? Well, I fancied so; it has not the nicest smell
in the world. I certainly thought it was a smock-frock, though, when I
saw you go out in it. Is not it rather awkward to walk in? I found it so
when I tried it on just now, and buttoning behind does not seem to me at
all a good plan.”
“No, sir, but it is meant to button in front; perhaps you put it on the
back part foremost.”
“Hem!” said Dr. Mildman, trying to look as if he thought such a thing
impossible, and failing--“it is a very singular article of dress
altogether, but I am glad it was not a smock-frock you went out in. I
hope,” continued he, turning to Oaklands, with an evident wish to change
the conversation, “I hope they took good care of you when you arrived
last night?”
This was turning the tables with a vengeance! Lawless became suddenly
immersed in Herodotus again.
“Oh! the greatest,” was the reply; “I had so much attention paid me
that I was almost _upset_ by it. I was not quite overcome, though,” he
continued, with a sly glance towards Lawless, “and Mrs. Mildman gave us
some very nice tea, which soon restored me.”
“Well, I'm glad they managed to make you comfortable among them,”
observed Dr. Mildman, turning over his papers and books, preparatory to
beginning the morning's study.
“Hadn't you better ask him when he expects the sofa will be down?”
suggested Coleman to Oaklands, in a whisper.
“No, you jackanapes,” was the reply, “and don't you make me laugh when
that old gentleman is in the room, for there's nothing more fatiguing
than the attempt to smother a laugh.”
Coleman's only answer to this, if answer it could be called, was a
grimace, which had the desired effect of throwing Oaklands into a fit of
laughter, which he found it very hard labour indeed to stifle; nor had
his countenance quite recovered from the effects of his exertions, when
he was summoned to the Doctor's table to undergo an examination similar
to that which had appeared so formidable to me a few days before; and
thus terminated the notable adventure of the carter's frock, though I
~62~~observed that after a week or two had elapsed the Macintosh was
handed over to Thomas, and Smithson was called upon to tax his inventive
powers to furnish Lawless with a less questionably shaped garment of the
same material.
A few days after this, as I was walking with Coleman, he suddenly
exclaimed:--
“Well, of all the antediluvian affairs I ever beheld, the old fellow
now coming towards us is the queerest; he looks like a fossil edition
of Methuselah, dug up and modernised some hundred years ago at the very
least. Holloa! he's going mad I believe; I hope he does not bite.”
The subject of these somewhat uncomplimentary remarks was a little old
gentleman in a broad-brimmed white hat, turned up with green, and a
black cloth spencer (an article much like a boy's jacket exaggerated),
from beneath which protruded the very broad tails of a blue coat, with
rather more than their proper complement of bright brass buttons, while
drab gaiters and shorts completed the costume.
The moment, however, I beheld the countenance of the individual in
question, I recognised the never-to-be-mistaken mole at the tip of
the nose of my late coach companion to London. The recognition seemed
mutual, for no sooner did he perceive me than he stopped short, and
pointed straight at me with a stout silver-mounted bamboo which he held
in his hand, uttering a sonorous “Umph!” as he did so; to which somewhat
unusual mode of salutation may be attributed Coleman's doubts as to his
sanity.
“Who'd ever have thought of meeting you at Helmstone, I should like to
know?” exclaimed he in a tone of astonishment.
“I was going to say the same thing to you, sir,” replied I; “I came down
here the very day on which we travelled together.”
“Umph! I came the next; well, and what are you doing now you are here?
Schoolmaster lives here, I suppose--tutor, you call him, though, don't
you?”
I informed him of my tutor's name and residence, when he continued:--
“Umph! I know him; very good man, too good to be plagued by a set of
tiresome boys--men, though, you call yourselves, don't you? Umph! Is he
a man too?” he inquired, pointing to Coleman.
“I've been a man these seventeen years, sir,” replied Coleman.
~63~~“Umph, a man seventeen years ago! a baby, more likely: what does he
mean? what does he mean?”
I explained that he probably intended a pun upon his name, which was
Coleman.
“A pun, Umph? he makes puns, does he? funny boy, funny boy, I daresay.
How does the Doctor like that, though? Make puns to him, he'd _pun_ish
you, Umph? Stupid things puns--made one myself then, though--just like
me. Well, give the Doctor my compliments--Mr. Frampton's--I live at No.
10 Castle Street,--he knows me, and ask him to let you come and dine
with me next week; bring funny boy too, if he likes to come;” and away
he posted, muttering “Umph! plaguing myself about a pack of boys, when I
might be quiet--just like me!”
We did not fail to deliver Mr. Frampton's message to Dr. Mildman on our
return home, who willingly gave us the required permission, saying
that he knew but little of the old gentleman personally, though he had
resided for several years at Helmstone, but that he was universally
respected, in spite of his eccentricities, and was reported to have
spent great part of his life abroad. The next time I met my new friend
he repeated his invitation to Coleman and myself, and, on the day
appointed, gave us an excellent dinner, with quite as much wine as we
knew what to do with; amused and interested us with sundry well-told
anecdotes of adventures he had met with during his residence in foreign
lands, and dismissed us at nine o'clock with a tip of a guinea each, and
an injunction to come and see him again whenever we pleased.
For many succeeding weeks nothing of any particular moment occurred to
interrupt the even tenor of the new course of life I had entered upon.
The liking which Oaklands seemed to have taken to me at first sight soon
ripened into a warm friendship, which continued daily to increase on
my part, as the many noble and lovable qualities of his disposition
appeared, one by one, from behind the veil of indolence which, till one
knew him well, effectually concealed them. Coleman, though too volatile
to make a real friend of, was a very agreeable companion, and, if it
were ever possible to get him to be serious for a minute, showed that
beneath the frivolity of his manner lay a basis of clear good sense and
right feeling, which only required calling forth to render him a much
higher character than he appeared at present. For the rest, I was
alternately bullied and patronised by Lawless (though he never ventured
on the former line of conduct when Oaklands was present), while
Cumberland, outwardly ~64~~professing great regard for me, never let
slip an opportunity of showing me an ill-natured turn, when he could
contrive to do so without committing himself openly.
A more intimate acquaintance with Mullins only served to place beyond
a doubt the fact of his being a most unmitigated, and not over-amiable,
fool. The word is a strong one, but I fear that, if I were to use a
milder term, it would be at the expense of truth.
For my tutor I soon began to conceive the warmest feeling of regard and
esteem; in fact, it was impossible to know him well, and not to love
him. Simple as a child in everything relating to worldly matters,
he united the deepest learning to the most elevated piety, while the
thoroughly practical character of his religion, carried, as it was,
into all the minor details of everyday life, imparted a gentleness and
benignity to his manner which seemed to elevate him above the level of
ordinary mortals. If he had a fault (I suppose, merely for the sake
of proving him human, I must allow him one), it was a want of moral
courage, which made it so disagreeable to him to find fault with any of
us, that he would now and then allow evils to exist, which a little more
firmness and decision might have prevented; but, had it not been for
this, he would have been quite perfect, and perfection is a thing not to
be met with in this life.
Cumberland, after the eventful evening on which he acted as peacemaker
between Lawless and Oaklands, had persevered steadily in his endeavour
to ingratiate himself with the latter; and, by taking advantage of
his weak point, his indolence and dislike of trouble, had, at length,
succeeded in making Oaklands believe him essential to his comfort.
Thus, though there was not the smallest sympathy between them, a sort
of alliance was established, which gave Cumberland exactly the
opportunities he required for putting into execution certain schemes
which he had formed. Of what these schemes consisted, and how far they
succeeded, will appear in the course of this veracious history.
The winter months, after favouring us with rather more than our due
allowance of frost and snow, had at length passed away, and March,
having come in like a lion, appeared determined, after the fashion of
Bottom the weaver, “to roar that it would do any man's heart good to
hear him,” and to kick up a thorough dust ere he would condescend to
go out like a lamb, albeit, in the latter state, he might have made
a shilling per pound of himself at any market, had he felt suicidally
inclined.
~65~~“This will never do,” said Oaklands to me, as, for the third time,
we were obliged to turn round and cover our eyes, to avoid being blinded
by the cloud of dust which a strong east wind was driving directly in
our faces; “there is nothing in the world tires one like walking against
a high wind. A quarter to three,” added he, taking out his watch. “I
have an appointment at three o'clock. Will you walk with me? I must turn
up here.”
I assented; and, turning a corner, we proceeded up a narrow street,
where the houses, in a great measure, protected us from the wind. After
walking some little distance in silence Oaklands again addressed me:--
“Frank, did you ever play at billiards?”
I replied in the negative.
“It's a game I've rather a liking for,” continued he; “we have a table
at Heathfield, and my father and I often played when the weather was too
bad to get out. I used to beat the old gentleman easily though at last,
till I found out one day he did not half like it, so then I was obliged
to make shocking mistakes, every now and then, to give him a chance of
winning; anybody else would have found me out in a minute, for I am the
worst hand in the world at playing the hypocrite, but my father is the
most unsuspicious creature breathing. Oh! he is such a dear old man.
You must come and stay with us, Frank, and learn to know him and love
him--he'd delight in you--you are just the sort of fellow he likes.”
“There's nothing I should like better,” answered I, “if I can get
leave from head-quarters; but why did you want to know if I played at
billiards?”
“Oh, I have been playing a good deal lately with Cumberland, who
seems very fond of the game, and I'm going to meet him at the rooms in
F----Street to-day; so I thought, if you knew anything of the game, you
might like to come with me.”
“Cumberland is a first-rate player, isn't he?” asked I.
“No, I do not think so: we play very evenly, I should say; but we are to
have a regular match to-day, to decide which is the best player.”
“Do you play for money?”
“Just a trifle to give an interest to the game, nothing more,” replied
Oaklands; “our match to-day is for a five-pound note.”
I must confess that I could not help feeling extremely uneasy at the
information Oaklands had just given me. The recollection of what Coleman
had said concerning some gaming affair in which Cumberland was supposed
~66~~to have behaved dishonourably, combined with a sort of general
notion, which seemed to prevail, that he was not exactly a safe person
to have much to do with, might in some degree account for this; still
I always felt a kind of instinctive dislike and mistrust of Cumberland,
which led me to avoid him as much as possible on my own account. In the
present instance, when the danger seemed to threaten my friend, this
feeling assumed a vague character of fear; “and yet,” reasoned I with
myself, “what is there to dread? Oaklands has plenty of money at his
command; besides, he says they play pretty evenly, so that he must
win nearly as often as Cumberland; then, he is older than I am, and of
course must be better able to judge what is right or wrong for him to
do.” However, remembering the old adage, that “lookers-on see most of
the game,” I determined, for once, to accompany him; I therefore told
him that, though I could not play myself, it would be an amusement to me
to watch them, and that, if he had no objection, I would go with him, to
which proposition he willingly agreed. As we turned into F----Street we
were joined by Cumberland, who, as I fancied, did not seem best pleased
at seeing me, nor did the scowl which passed across his brow, on hearing
I was to accompany them, tend to lessen this impression. He did not,
however, attempt to make any opposition to the plan, merely remarking
that, as I did not play myself, he thought I should find it rather dull.
After proceeding about half way down the street Cumberland stopped in
front of a small cigar-shop, and, turning towards a private door,
on which was a brass plate with the word “Billiards” engraved on it,
knocked, and was admitted. Leading the way up a dark, narrow staircase,
he opened a green baize door at the top, and ushered us into a tolerably
large room, lighted by a sky-light, immediately under which stood the
billiard-table. On one side was placed a rack, containing a formidable
arrangement of cues, maces, etc., while at the farther end two small
dials, with a brass hand in the centre for the purpose of marking the
scores of the different players, were fixed against the wall. As we
entered, two persons who were apparently performing certain intricate
manoeuvres with the balls by way of practice immediately left off
playing and came towards us. One of these, a little man, with small keen
grey eyes, and a quick restless manner, which involuntarily reminded one
of a hungry rat, rejoiced in the name of “Slipsey,” and proved to be the
billiard-marker; his ~67~~companion was a tall stout personage, with
a very red face, rather handsome features, large white teeth, and a
profusion of bushy whiskers, moustaches, and imperial of a dark-brown
colour. His dress consisted of a blue military frock coat, which he wore
open, to display a crimson plush waistcoat and thick gold watch-chain,
while his costume was completed by a pair of black and white plaid
trousers, made in the extreme of the fashion, with a broad stripe down
the outside of the leg. This personage swaggered up to Cumberland,
and, with a manner composed of impertinent familiarity and awkwardness,
addressed him as follows:--
“How d'ye do, Mr. Cumberland? hope I see you well, sir. Terrible bad
day, gentlemen, don't you think? dusty enough to pepper the devil, as we
used to say in Spain, hey? Going to have a touch at the rolley-polleys,
I suppose.”
“We shall be disturbing you, Captain Spicer,” said Cumberland, who, I
thought, had tact enough to perceive that his friend's free and easy
manner was the reverse of acceptable to Oaklands.
“Not at all, not at all,” was the reply; “it was so terrible unpleasant
out of doors that, as I happened to be going by, I thought I'd look in
to see if there was anything up; and as the table was lying idle I got
knocking the balls about with little Slipsey here, just to keep one's
hand in, you know.”
“Well, then, we had better begin at once,” said Cumberland, to which
Oaklands assented rather coldly.
As he was pulling off his greatcoat he whispered to me, “If that man
stays here long, I shall never be able to stand it: his familiarity is
unbearable; there is nothing tires me so much as being obliged to be
civil to that kind of people”.
“How is it to be?” said Cumberland, “whoever wins four games out of
seven is the conqueror, wasn't that it?”
“Yes, I believe so,” was Oaklands' reply.
“A very sporting match, 'pon my life,” observed the Captain; “are the
stakes high?”
“Oh no! a mere nothing: five, or ten pounds, did we say?” inquired
Cumberland.
“Just as you like,” replied Oaklands, carelessly.
“Ten pounds, by all means, I should say; five pounds is so shocking
small, don't you think? not worth playing for?” said the Captain.
“Ten let it be then,” said Cumberland; and after a few preliminaries
they began playing.
~68~~I did not understand the game sufficiently to be able to give
a detailed account of the various chances of the match, nor would it
probably greatly interest the reader were I to do so. Suffice it, then,
to state, that, as far as I could judge, Oaklands, disgusted by the
vulgar impertinence of the Captain (if Captain he was), thought the
whole thing a bore, and played carelessly. The consequence was, that
Cumberland won the first two games. This put Oaklands upon his mettle,
and he won the third and fourth; the fifth was hardly contested,
Oaklands evidently playing as well as he was able, Cumberland also
taking pains; but it struck me as singular that, in each game, _his_
play seemed to depend upon that of his adversary. When Oaklands first
began Cumberland certainly beat him, but not by many; and, as he became
interested, and his play improved, so in the same ratio did Cumberland's
keep pace with it. Of course, there might be nothing in this; the same
causes that affected the one might influence the other; but the idea
having once occurred to me, I determined to watch the proceedings still
more closely, in order, if possible, to make up my mind on the point.
After a very close contest Oaklands also won the fifth game; in the
sixth he missed a difficult stroke, after which he played carelessly,
apparently intending to reserve his strength for the final struggle, so
that Cumberland won it easily. Each had now won three games, and on the
event of the seventh depended the match. Again did Oaklands, who was
evidently deeply interested, use his utmost skill, and his play, which
certainly was very good, called forth frequent eulogiums from the
Captain, who offered to bet unheard-of sums on the certainty of his
winning (which, as there was no one in the room at all likely to accept
his offer, was a very safe and innocent amusement), and again, _pari
passu_, did Cumberland's skill keep pace with his. After playing neck
and neck, till nearly the end of the game, Cumberland gained a slight
advantage, which produced the following state of affairs:--It was
Oaklands' turn to play, and the balls were placed in such a position,
that by a brilliant stroke he might win the game, but it required great
skill to do so. If he failed, the chances were so much in Cumberland's
favour as to render his success almost a certainty. It was an anxious
moment: for my own part, I felt as if I scarcely dared breathe, and
could distinctly hear the throbbing of my own heart, while the Captain,
after having most liberally offered to bet five hundred pounds to five
pence that he did it, remained silent and ~69~~motionless as a statue,
watching the proceedings, with his eye-glass screwed after some
mysterious fashion into the corner of his eye. And now, carefully and
deliberately, Oaklands pointed his cue--his elbow was drawn back for the
stroke--for the last time his eye appeared to measure and calculate
the precise spot he must strike to produce the desired effect--when
suddenly, and at the exact moment in which the cue struck the ball, a
sonorous sneeze from the rat-like billiard-marker resounded through
the room; as a necessary consequence, Oaklands gave a slight start and
missed his stroke. The confusion that ensued can “better be imagined
than described,” as the newspapers always say about the return from
Epsom. With an exclamation of anger and disappointment Oaklands turned
away from the table, while the Captain began storming at Slipsey, whom
he declared himself ready to kick till all was blue, for the trifling
remuneration of half a farthing. The marker himself apologised, with
great contrition, for his delinquency, which he declared was quite
involuntary, at the same time asserting that, to the best of his belief,
the gentleman had made his stroke _before_ he sneezed: this Oaklands
denied, and appealed to Cumberland for his opinion. After trying in
various ways to avoid giving a direct answer, and appealing in his turn
to Captain Spicer (who was so intensely positive that the sneeze had
preceded the stroke, that he was willing to back his opinion to any
amount), Cumberland very unwillingly owned that, if he was forced to
say what he thought, he believed Oaklands had made his stroke before the
sneeze caused him to start, but that it was a near thing, and he might
very possibly be mistaken. This was quite enough for Oaklands, who
declared that he was perfectly satisfied, and begged Cumberland to
play, which, with some apparent reluctance, he did, and, as was almost a
matter of certainty, proved the conqueror.
“'Pon my life, in all my experience, I never knew a gentleman lose a
match in such a tremendously unfortunate way,” observed the Captain.
“I am certain that if you had not been flurried, Mr. Oaklands, sir, you
could have done the trick as clean as a whistle. Allow me to place the
balls as they were then--I know how they stood to a nicety--there,
that's it to a demi-semi fraction; oblige me, sir, just as a personal
favour, by trying the stroke once more.”
Thus invoked, Oaklands approached the table, and, without a moment's
deliberation, struck the ball, and succeeded in doing with perfect ease
the very thing which a minute before would have won him ten pounds.
~70~~“There! I was super-certain you could do it; the match was yours,
sir, as safe as the bank, if that wretched little abortion there hadn't
made that disgusting noise. Play him again, sir; play him again: Mr.
Cumberland's a pretty player, a very pretty player; but you're too
strong for him, Mr. Oaklands; it's my firm conviction you're too strong
for him.”
“What do you say to giving me my revenge, Cumberland?” asked Oaklands.
“Oh! _I_ can have no possible objection,” replied Cumberland, with
the slightest imaginable assumption of superiority in his tone, which
annoyed my ear, and which I felt sure would produce the same effect upon
Oaklands. The next game Oaklands won; and they continued to play the
rest of the afternoon with various success, and for what appeared to me
very high stakes. I calculated that, by the time they left off, Oaklands
must have lost more than thirty pounds; and yet, in spite of this, to a
superficial observer he appeared to be the better player of the two: he
certainly made the most brilliant strokes, but he also made blunders,
and failed now and then; while Cumberland's score mounted up without
one's exactly knowing how; he never seemed to be playing particularly
well, and yet there was always something easy for him to do; while, when
Oaklands had to play, the balls got into such awkward positions that it
appeared as if they were leagued against him.
Besides this, many things concurred to strengthen me in my pre-conceived
idea, that Cumberland was accommodating his play to that of Oaklands,
whom, I felt certain, he could have beaten easily, if he had been so
inclined. If this were really the case, the only conclusion one could
come to was, that the whole thing was a regularly arranged plot: the
object of which was to win as much as he could of Oaklands' money. The
marker's sneeze too, occurring so very opportunely for Cumberland's
interest; and the presence of the Captain, who, by his eulogiums on
Oaklands' skill, had excited him to continue playing, while, by his
observations and advice, he had endeavoured (whenever it was possible)
to raise the amount of the stakes; all this favoured my view of the
case. Still these were but suspicions; for I was utterly without proof:
and could I on mere suspicion tell Oaklands that he was a dupe, and
Cumberland a knave? No, this would never do; so I determined, as people
generally do when they are at their wits' end, and can ~71~~hit on
nothing better, to wait and see what time would bring forth, and act
according to circumstances.
Should any of my readers think such penetration unnatural in a boy of
my age, brought up in a quiet country parsonage, let them remember that,
though utterly ignorant of the ways of the world, I was what is called
a quick, sharp boy; that I had been informed Cumberland was not a person
to be trusted, nay, that he was known to have cheated some young
man before; and that, moreover, my very unworldliness and ignorance
increased my suspicions, inasmuch as it seemed to me that playing
billiards, at a public table, for what I considered large sums of money,
was neither more nor less than gambling; and gambling I viewed in the
light of a patent twenty-devil-power man-trap, fresh baited (in the
present case with a billiard cue and balls) by the claws of the Evil
One himself; consequently, I was prepared to view everything that passed
with the greatest mistrust; and, in such a frame of mind, I must have
been blind not to have perceived something of what was going on.