"Oh, I shall have Georgie Heathcote, you know. I shan't much care about
the other fellows."
"Don't be too sure. And, remember this, my boy, be specially on your
guard with any of them that flatter you. They'll soon find out your
weak point and that's where they'll have you."
Dick certainly considered this a little strong even for a parent. But
somehow the advice stuck, for all that, and he remembered it afterwards.
"As to other matters," said the father, "your mother, I know, has spoken
for us both. Be honest to everybody, most of all yourself, and remember
a boy can fear God without being a prig-- Ah, here's the train."
It was a dismal farewell, that between father and son, when the moment
of parting really came. Neither of them had expected it would be so
hard, and when at last the whistle blew, and their hands parted, both
were thankful the train slipped swiftly from the station and turned a
corner at once.
After the bustle and excitement of the last few days, Dick found the
loneliness of the empty carriage decidedly unpleasant, and for a short
time after leaving town, was nearer moping than he had ever been before.
It would be an hour before the train reached X---, where Heathcote would
get in. It would be all right then, but meanwhile he wished he had
something to do.
So he fell to devouring the provisions his mother and sisters had put up
for his special benefit, and felt in decidedly better heart when the
meal was done.
Then he hauled down his hat-box, and tried on his new "pot," and felt
still more soothed.
Then he extricated his new dressing-case from his travelling-bag, and
examined, with increasing comfort, each several weapon it contained,
until the discovery of a razor in an unsuspected corner completed his
good cheer, and he began to whistle.
In the midst of this occupation the train pulled up, and Heathcote, with
_his_ hat-box and bag invaded the carriage.
"Hallo, old man," said Dick with a nod, "you've turned up, then? Look
here, isn't this a stunning turnout? Don't go sitting down on my razor,
I say."
"Excuse me a second," said Heathcote, putting down his traps and turning
to the window, "grandma's here, and I've got to say good-bye."
"Good-bye, grandma," added the dutiful youth, holding out his hand to a
venerable lady who stood by the window.
"Good-bye, Georgie. Give me a kiss, my dear boy."
Georgie didn't like kissing in public, especially when the public
consisted of Dick. And, yet, he couldn't well get out of it. So he
hurried through the operation as quickly as possible, and stood with his
duty towards his relative and his interest towards the razor, wondering
why the train didn't start.
It started at last, and after a few random flickings of his handkerchief
out of the window, he was able to devote his entire attention to his
friend's cutlery.
One exhibition provoked another. Heathcote's "pot" was produced and
critically compared with Dick's. He had no dressing-case, certainly,
but he had a silver watch and a steel chain, also a pocket inkpot, and a
railway key. And by the way, he thought, the sooner that railway key
was brought into play the better.
By its aid they successfully resisted invasion at the different stations
as they went along, until at length Heathcote's watch told them that the
next station would be Templeton. Whereat they became grave and packed
up their bags, and looked rather wistfully out of the window.
"Father says," remarked Dick, "only the new boys go up to-day. The rest
come to-morrow."
"Rather a good job," said Heathcote.
A long silence followed.
"Think there'll be any one to meet us?" said Dick. "Don't know. I wish
Coote was to be there too."
Another pause.
"I expect they'll be jolly enough fellows," said Dick.
"Oh yes. They don't bully now in schools, I believe."
"No; they say it's going out. Perhaps it's as well."
"We shall be pretty well used to the place by to-morrow, I fancy."
"Yes. It'll be rather nice to see them all turn up."
"I expect, you know, they'll have such a lot to do, they won't bother
about new fellows. I know I shouldn't."
"They might about the awful green ones, perhaps. Ha, ha! Wouldn't it
be fun if old Coote was here!"
"Yes, poor old Coote! You know I'm half sorry to leave Mountjoy. It
was a jolly old school, wasn't it?"
The shrieking of the whistle and the grinding of the brake put an end to
further conversation for the present.
As they alighted, each with his hat-box and bag and umbrella, and stood
on the platform, they felt moved by a sincere affection for the carriage
they were leaving. Indeed, there is no saying what little encouragement
would not have sufficed to send them back into its hospitable shelter.
"Here you are, sir--this way for the school--this cab, sir!"--cried half
a dozen cabmen, darting whip in hand upon our heroes, as they stood
looking about them.
"Don't you go along with them," said one confidentially. "They'll
charge you half-a-crown. Come along, young gentlemen, I'll take you for
two bob."
"Go on. You think the young gentlemen are greenhorns. No fear. They
know what's what. They ain't agoin' to be _seen_ drivin' up the Quad in
a Noah's Ark like that. Come along, young gents; leave him for the
milksops. The like of you rides in a hansom, I know."
Of course, this artful student of juvenile nature carried the day, and
there was great cheering and crowing and chaffing, when the hansom, with
the two trunks on the top, and the two anxious faces inside, peering
over the top of their hat-boxes and bags rattled triumphantly out of the
station.
As Templeton school was barely three minutes' drive from the station,
there was very little leisure either for conversation or the recovery of
their composure, before the gallant steed was clattering over the
cobbles of the great Quadrangle.
They pulled up at a door which appeared to belong to a bell of imposing
magnitude, which the cabman, alighting, proceeded to pull with an energy
that awoke the echoes of that solemn square, and made our two heroes
draw their breath short and sharp.
"Hop out, young gentlemen," said the cabman, helping his passengers and
their luggage out. "It's a busy time, and I'm in a hurry. A shilling
each, and sixpence a piece for the traps; that's two and three makes
five, and leave the driver to you."
Considering the distance they had come, it seemed rather a long price,
and Heathcote ventured very mildly to ask--
"The other man at the station said two shillings."
"Bah!" said the cabman in tones of unfeigned disgust, "you are green
ones after all! He'd have charged a bob a piece for the traps, and
landed you up to eight bob, and stood no nonsense too about it. Come,
settle up, young gentlemen, please. The Templeton boys I'm used to
always fork out like gentlemen."
Dick took out his purse, and produced five-and-sixpence, which he gave
the driver, just as the door opened and the school matron presented
herself.
"Is that your cab?" said she, pointing to the receding hansom.
"Yes, ma'am."
"How much did he charge you?"
"Five shillings, ma'am."
The lady uttered an exclamation of mingled wrath and contempt. "It's
double his right fare. Run quick, and you'll catch him."
Heathcote started to run, shouting meekly, and waving his hand to the
man to stop.
But the man good-humouredly declined the invitation, raising his hat
gallantly to the lady, and putting his tongue into his cheek, as he
touched the horse up into a trot, and rattled out of the square.
Heathcote returned rather sheepishly, and the two friends followed the
lady indoors feeling that their entry into Templeton had been anything
but triumphant.
"The idea!" said the matron, partly to herself and partly to the boys,
"of his landing you and all your luggage on the pavement like that, and
then going off, before I came. He knew well enough I should have seen
he only got his right fare. The wretch!"
The boys did not know at the time, but they discovered it afterwards,
that Mrs Partlett, the matron, had a standing feud with all the cabmen
of Templeton, whose delight it was to enjoy themselves at her expense--a
pastime they could not more effectively achieve than by fleecing her
young charges, so to speak, under her very nose.
"Now," said she, when presently she had recovered her equanimity, "if
you'll unlock these things, you can go and take a walk round the
Quadrangle and look about you, while I unpack. The bell will ring for
new boys' tea in half an hour."
They obeyed, and took a melancholy, but interested stroll round the
great court. They read all the Latin mottoes, and were horrified to
find one or two which they could not translate.
Fancy a Templeton boy not being able to understand his own mottoes!
They read the names on the different masters' doors; and dwelt with
special reverence on the door-plate of Mr Westover, in whose house they
were to reside. They deciphered the carvings on the great gate, and
shuddered as they saw the name of one "Joe Bolt" cut rude and deep
across the forehead of the cherub who stood sentinel at the chapel
portal.
All was wonder in that strange walk. The wonder of untasted
proprietorship. It was _their_ school, _their_ quadrangle, _their_
chapel, _their_ elm-trees; and yet they scarcely liked to inspect them
too closely, or behave themselves towards them too familiarly.
One or two boys were taking solitary strolls, like themselves. They
were new boys too--nearly all of them afflicted with the same
uneasiness, some more, some less.
It was amusing to see the way these new boys held themselves one to
another as they crossed and passed one another in that afternoon's
promenade. There was no falling into one another's arms in bursts of
mutual sympathy. There was no forced gaiety and indifference, as though
one would say "I don't think much of the place after all." No. With
blunt English pride, each boy bridled up a bit as a stranger drew near,
and looked straight in front of him, till the coast was clear.
At length the bell above the matron's door began to toll, and there was
a general movement among the stragglers in its direction.
About twenty boys, mostly of our heroes' age, assembled in the tea room.
Their small band looked almost lost in that great hall, as they
clustered, of one accord, for warmth and comfort, at one end of the long
table.
The matron entered and said grace, and then proceeded to pour out tea
for her hungry family, while the boys themselves, at her injunction,
passed round the bread-and-butter and eggs.
A meal is one of the most civilising institutions going; and Dick, after
two cups of Templeton tea, and several cubic inches of Templeton bread-
and-butter, felt amiably inclined towards his left-hand neighbour, a
little timorous-looking boy, who blushed when anybody looked at him, and
nearly fainted when he heard his own voice answering Mrs Partlett's
enquiry whether he wanted another cup.
Apart from a friendly motive, it seemed to Dick it would be good
practice to begin talking to a youth of this unalarming aspect. He
therefore enquired, "Are you a new boy?"
The boy started to hear himself addressed; then looking shyly up in the
speaker's face, and divining that no mischief lurked there, he replied--
"Yes."
Dick took another gulp of tea, and continued, "Where do you live--in
London?"
"No--I live in Devonshire."
Dick returned to his meal again, and exchanged some sentences with
Heathcote before he resumed.
"What school were you at before?"
"I wasn't at any--I had lessons at home."
"A tutor?"
The boy blushed very much, and looked appealingly at Dick, as though to
beg him to receive the disclosure he was about to make kindly.
"No--my mother taught me."
Dick did receive it kindly. That is, he didn't laugh. He felt sorry
for the boy and what was in store for him when the news got abroad. He
also felt much less reserved in continuing the conversation.
"Heathcote here and I were at Mountjoy; so we're pretty well used to
kicking about," said he, patronisingly. "I suppose you didn't go in for
the entrance exam, then?"
"Yes, I did," said the boy.
"Poor chap," thought Dick, "fancy a fellow who's never left his mammy's
apron-strings going in for an exam. How did you get on?" he added,
turning to his companion.
"Pretty well, I think," said the boy shyly.
"I was twenty-first out of thirty-six," said Dick, "and Heathcote here
was fifteenth--where were you?"
Again the boy made a mute appeal for toleration, as he replied, "I was
first."
Dick put down his cup, and stared at him.
"Go on!" said he.
"It was down on the list so," said the boy with an apologetic air.
"They sent one with the names printed."
Dick made a desperate onslaught on the bread-and-butter, regarding his
neighbour out of the corners of his eyes from time to time, quite at a
loss to make him out.
"How old are you?" he demanded presently.
"Thirteen."
"What's your name?"
"Bertie Aspinall."
"Whose house are you going to live in?"
"Mr Westover's."
"Oh!" said Dick, abruptly ending the conversation, and turning round
towards Heathcote.
In due time the meal was over, and the boys were told they could do as
they liked for the next hour, until the matron was at leisure to show
them their quarters.
So for another hour the promenade in the Quadrangle was resumed. Not so
dismally, however, as before. The tea had broken the ice wonderfully,
and instead of the studied avoidance of the afternoon, one group and
another fell now to comparing notes, and rehearsing the legends they had
heard of Templeton and its inmates. And gradually a fellow-feeling made
every one wondrous kind, and the little army of twenty in the prospect
of to-morrow's battles, drew together in bonds of self-defence, and felt
all very like brothers.
Aspinall, however, who knew no one, and had not dared to join himself to
any of the groups, paced in solitude at a distance, hoping for nothing
better than that he might escape notice and be left to himself. But
Dick, whose interest in him had become very decided, found him out
before long and, much to his terror, insisted in introducing him to
Heathcote and attaching him to their party.
"There's nothing to be in a funk about, young 'un," said he. "I know I
don't mean to funk it, whatever they do to me."
"I'll back you up, old man, all I can," said Heathcote.
"I expect it's far the best way not to kick out, but just go through
with it," said Dick. "That's what my father says, and he had a pretty
rough time of it, he said, at first."
"Oh, _yes_; I'm sure it's all the worse for a fellow if he funks or gets
out of temper."
All this was very alarming talk for the timorous small boy to overhear,
and he longed, a hundred times, to be safe back in Devonshire.
"I'm afraid," he faltered. "I know--I shall be a coward."
"Don't be a young ass," said Dick. "Heathcote and I will back you up
all we can, won't we, Georgie?"
"Rather," said Heathcote.
"If you do, it won't be half so bad," said the boy, brightening up a
bit; "it's dreadful to be a coward."
"Well, why are you one?" said Dick. "No one's obliged to be one."
"I suppose I can't help it. I try hard."
"There goes the bell. I suppose that's for us to go in," said Dick, as
the summons once more sounded.
They found the matron with a list in her hand, which she proceeded to
call over, bidding each boy answer to his name. The first twelve were
the new boys of Westover's house, and they included our two heroes and
Aspinall, who were forthwith marched, together with their night apparel,
across the court to their new quarters.
Here they were received by another matron, who presided over the
wardrobes of the youth of Westover's, and by her they were escorted to
one of the dormitories, where, for that night at any rate, they were to
be permitted to sleep in the comfort of one another's society.
"New boys are to call on the Doctor after breakfast in the morning,"
announced she. "Breakfast at eight, and no morning chapel. Good-
night!"
It was not long before the dormitory was silent. One by one, the tired
boys dropped off, most of them with heavy hearts as they thought of the
morrow.
Among the last was Dick, who, as he lay awake and went over, in his
mind, the experiences of the day, was startled by what sounded very like
a sob in the bed next to his.
He had half a mind to get up and go and say something to the dismal
little Devonshire boy.
But on second thoughts he thought the kindest thing would be to let the
poor fellow have his cry out, so he turned over and tried not to hear
it; and while trying he fell asleep.