Heathcote awoke early the next morning with his friend the junior
seriously on his mind. One or two fellows were already dressing
themselves in flannels as he roused himself, amongst others the young
hero who had threatened to fight him the evening before.
"Hallo!" said that young gentleman, in a friendly tone, as if nothing
but the most cordial courtesies had passed between them, "coming down to
bathe?"
"All serene," said Heathcote, not, however, without his suspicions. If
any one had told him it was a fine morning, he would, in his present
state of mind, have suspected the words as part of a deep-laid scheme to
fool him. But, he reflected, he had not much to fear from this mock-
heroic junior, and as long as he kept him in sight no great harm could
happen.
"Come on, then," said the boy, whose name, by the way, was Gosse; "we
shall only just have time to do it before chapel."
"Wait a second, till I tell Dick. He'd like to come, too," said
Heathcote.
"What's the use of waking him when he's fagged? Besides, he's got to
wash and dress his baby, and give him his bottle, so he wouldn't have
time. Aren't you ready?"
"Yes," said Heathcote, flinging himself into his hardly-regained
garments.
The "Templeton Tub," as the bathing place was colloquially termed, was a
small natural harbour among the rocks at the foot of the cliff on which
the school stood. It was a picturesque spot at all times; but this
bright spring morning, with the distant headlands lighting up in the
rising sunlight, and the blue sea heaving lazily among the rocks as
though not yet awake, Heathcote thought it one of the prettiest places
he had ever seen.
The "Tub" suited all sorts of bathers. The little timid waders could
dip their toes and splash their hair in the shallow basin in-shore. The
more advanced could wade out shoulder-deep, and puff and flounder with
one foot on the ground and the other up above their heads, and delude
the world into the notion they were swimming. For others there was the
spring-board, from which to take a header into deep water; and, further
out still, the rocks rose in ledges, where practised divers could take
the water from any height they liked, from four feet to thirty. Except
with leave, no boy was permitted to swim beyond the harbour mouth into
the open. But leave was constantly being applied for, and as constantly
granted; and perhaps every boy, at some time or other, cast wistful
glances at the black buoy bobbing a mile out at sea, and wondered when
he, like Pontifex and Mansfield, and other of the Sixth, should be able
to wear the image of it on his belt, and call himself a Templeton
"shark?"
Heathcote, on his first appearance at the "Tub," acquitted himself
creditably. He took a mild header from the spring-board without more
than ordinary splashing, and swam across the pool and back in fair
style. Gosse, who only went in from the low ledge, and swam half-way
across and back, was good enough to give him some very good advice, and
promise to make a good swimmer of him in time. Whereat Heathcote looked
grateful, and wished Dick had been there to astonish some of them.
One or two of the Fifth, including Swinstead and Birket, arrived as the
youngsters were dressing.
"Hallo!" said Swinstead to Heathcote, "you here? Where's your chum?"
"Asleep," said Heathcote, quite pleased to think he should be able to
tell Dick he had been having a talk with Swinstead that morning.
"Have you been in?"
"Yes."
"Can you swim?"
"Yes, a little," said Gosse, answering for him. "We're about equal."
Heathcote couldn't stand the barefaced libel meekly.
"Why, you can't swim once across!" he said, scornfully, "and you can't
go in off the board!"
The Fifth-form boys laughed.
"Ha, ha!" said Swinstead, "he's letting you have it, Gossy."
"He's telling beastly crams," said Gosse, "and I'll kick him when we get
back."
"I'll swim you across the pool and back, first!" said Heathcote.
The seniors were delighted. The new boy's spirit pleased them, and the
prospect of taking down the junior pleased them still more.
"That's fair," said Birket. "Come on, strip."
Heathcote was ready in a trice. Gosse looked uncomfortable.
"I'm not going in again," he said; "I've got a cold."
"Yes, you are," replied Birket; "I'll help you."
This threat was quite enough for the discomfited junior, who slowly
divested himself of his garments.
"Now then! plenty of room for both of you on the board."
"No," said Gosse; "I've not got any cotton wool for my ears. I don't
care about going in off the board unless I have."
"That's soon remedied," said Swinstead, producing some wool from his
pocket and proceeding to stuff it into each of the boy's ears.
Poor Gosse was fairly cornered, and took his place on the board beside
Heathcote, the picture of discontent and apprehension.
"Now then, once across and back. Are you ready?" said Birket, seating
himself beside his friend on a ledge.
"No," said Gosse, looking down at the water and getting off the board.
"Do you funk it?"
"No."
"Then go in! Hurry up, or we'll come and help you!"
"I'd--I'd rather go in from the _edge_," said the boy.
"You funk the board then?"
The boy looked at the board, then at his tyrants, then at the water.
"I suppose I do," said he, sulkily.
"Then put on your clothes and cut it," said Swinstead, scornfully.
Then, turning to Heathcote, he shouted. "Now then, young 'un, in you
go."
Heathcote plunged. He was nervous, and splashed more, perhaps, than
usual, but it was a tolerable header, on the whole, for a new boy, and
the spectators were not displeased with the performance or the swim
across the pool and back which followed.
"All right," said Swinstead; "stick to it, young un, and turn up
regularly. Can your chum swim?"
"Rather!" said Heathcote, taking his head out of the towel. "I wish I
could swim as well as he can."
"Humph!" said Swinstead, when presently the two Seniors were left to
themselves. "Number Two's modest; Number One's cocky."
"Therefore," said Birket, "Number Two will remain Number Two, and number
One will remain Number One."
"Right you are, most learned Plato! but I'm curious to see how Number
One gets out of his friendly call on Cresswell. Think he'll cheek it?"
"Yes; and we shan't hear many particulars from him."
Birket was right, as he very often was.
Dick, on waking, was a good deal perplexed, to find his friend absent,
and when he heard the reason he was more than perplexed--he was vexed.
It wasn't right of Heathcote, or loyal, to take advantage of him in this
way, and he should complain of it.
Meanwhile he had plenty to occupy his mind in endeavouring to recover
his "baby's" wardrobe, a quest which, as time went on and the chapel
bell began to sound, came to be exciting.
However, just as he was about to go to the matron and represent to her
the delicate position of affairs, a bundle was thrown in through the
ventilator over the door, and fell into the middle of the dormitory
floor. Where it came from there was no time to inquire.
Aspinall was hustled into his garments as quickly as possible, and then
hustled down the stairs and into chapel just as the bell ceased ringing
and the door began to close.
Heathcote was there among the other new boys, looking rather guilty, as
well he might. The sight of him, with his dripping locks and clear
shining face, interfered a good deal with Dick's attention to the
service--almost as much as did the buzz of talk all round him, the open
disorder in the stalls opposite, and the look of undisguised horror on
Aspinall's face.
As Dick caught sight of that look his own conscience pricked him, and he
made a vehement effort to recall his wandering mind and fix it on the
words which were being read. He flushed as he saw boys opposite point
his way and laugh, with hands clasped in mock devotion, and he felt
angry with himself, and young Aspinall, and everybody, for laying him
open to the imputation of being a prig.
He glanced again towards Heathcote. Heathcote was standing with his
hands in his pockets looking about him. What business had Heathcote to
look about him when he (Dick) was standing at attention? Why should
Heathcote escape the jeers of mockers, while he (Dick) had to bear the
brunt of them? It wasn't fair. And yet he wasn't going to put his
hands in his pockets and look about him to give them the triumph of
saying they laughed him into it. No!
So Dick stood steadily and reverently all the service, and was observed
by not a few as one of the good ones of whom good things might be
expected.
When chapel was over fate once more severed him from his chum, and
deferred the explanation to which both were looking forward.
The matron kidnapped Master Richardson on his way into the house, in
order to call his attention to a serious inconsistency between the
number of his shirts in his portmanteau, and the number on the inventory
accompanying them, an inconsistency which Dick was unable to throw any
light on whatever, except that he supposed it must be a mistake, and it
didn't much matter.
It certainly mattered less than the fact that, owing to this delay, he
had lost his seat next to Heathcote at breakfast, and had to take his
place at the lowest table, where he could not even see his friend.
There was great joking during the meal about the escapade in the lobby
last night, the general opinion being that it had been grand sport all
round, and that it was lucky the monitors weren't at home at the time.
"Beastly grind," said one youngster--"all of them coming back to-day. A
fellow can't turn round but they interfere."
"Are all the Sixth monitors?" asked Dick.
"Rather," replied his neighbour, whom Dick discovered afterwards to be
no other than Raggles, the hero of the "cargo," whose fame he had heard
the day before.
"What's the name of the captain?"
"Oh, Ponty! He doesn't hurt," said the boy. "It's beasts like
Mansfield, and Cresswell, and that lot who come down on you."
Dick would fain have inquired what sort of fellow Cresswell was, but he
was too anxious not to let the affair of the whipper-in leak out, and
refrained. He asked a few vague questions about the Sixth generally,
and gathered from his companion that, with a very few exceptions, they
were all "beasts" in school, that one or two of them were rather good at
cricket, and swimming, and football, and that the monitorial system at
Templeton, and at all other public schools, required revision. From
which Dick argued shrewdly that Master Raggles sometimes got into rows.
By the time he had made this discovery the bell rang for first school,
and there was a general movement to the door.
The two chums foregathered in the hall.
"Pity you weren't up in time for a bathe," said Heathcote, artfully
securing the first word.
"I heard you went. Too much fag getting up so early. I mean to go down
in the afternoon, when most of the fellows turn up."
"Swinstead and Birket were there. I wish you'd been there."
"Not worth the grind. You can come with me this afternoon, if you like.
Some of the 'sharks' will be down as well."
Heathcote began to discover he had done a foolish thing; and when he
found his friend launching the "sharks" at his head in this familiar way
he felt it was no use holding out any longer.
"It was awfully low of me not to call you this morning," said he, "but
you looked so fast asleep, you know."
"So I was," said Dick, unbending. "I'm glad you didn't rout me up, for
I was regularly fagged last night."
"What time will you be going this afternoon?"
"Depends. I've got to see one of the Sixth as soon as he turns up, but
that won't take long."
Heathcote retired routed. His friend was too many for him. He
(Heathcote) had no one bigger than Swinstead and Birket to impress his
friend with. Dick had "sharks," and behind them "one of the Sixth."
What was the use of opposing himself to such odds?
"Wait for us, won't you?" was all he could say; and next moment they
were at their respective desks, and school had begun.
Dick's quick ears caught the sound of cabs in the quadrangle and the
noise of luggage in the hall while school was going on, and his mind
became a little anxious as the prospect of his coming interview loomed
nearer before him. He hoped Cresswell was a jolly fellow, and that
there would be no one else in his study when he went to call upon him.
He had carefully studied the geography of his fortress, so he knew
exactly where to go without asking any one, which was a blessing.
As soon as class was over he made his way to the matron's room.
"Do you know if Cresswell has come yet, please."
"Yes, what do you want with him?"
"Oh! nothing," said Dick dissembling, "I only wanted to know."
And he removed himself promptly from the reach of further questions.
Little dreaming of the visit with which he was to be so shortly
honoured, Cresswell, the fleetest foot and the steadiest head in
Templeton, was complacently unpacking his goods and chattels in the
privacy of his own study. He wasn't sorry to get back to Templeton, for
he was fond of the old place, and the summer term was always the
jolliest of the year. There was cricket coming on, and lawn tennis, and
the long evening runs, and the early morning dips. And there was plenty
of work ahead in the schools too, and the prospect of an exhibition at
Midsummer, if only Freckleton gave him the chance.
Altogether the Sixth-form athlete was in a contented frame of mind, as
he emptied his portmanteau and tossed his belongings into their
respective quarters.
So intent was he on his occupation, that it was a full minute before he
became aware of a small boy standing at his open door, and tapping
modestly. As he looked up and met the eyes of the already doubtful
Dick, both boys inwardly thought, "I rather like that fellow"--a
conclusion which, as far as Dick was concerned, made it still more
difficult for him to broach the subject of his mission.
Cresswell was still kneeling down, so it was impossible to form an
opinion of his legs, but his arms and shoulders certainly did not look
like those of a "snail."
"What do you want, youngster?" said Cresswell.
"Oh," said Dick, screwing himself up to the pitch, "Swinstead told me to
come to you."
"Oh," said the other, in a tone of great interest, "what about?"
"About the--I mean--something about the--the Harriers," said Dick,
suddenly beginning to see things in a new light.
"About the Harriers?" said Cresswell, rising to his feet and lounging up
against the mantel-piece, in order to take a good survey of his visitor.
"What does Mr Swinstead want to know about the Harriers?"
The sight of the champion there, drawn up to his full height, with power
and speed written on every turn of his figure, sent Dick's mind jumping,
at one bound, to the truth. What an ass he had been going to make of
himself, and what a time he would have had if he hadn't found out the
trick in time! As it was, he could not help laughing at the idea of his
own ridiculous position, and the narrow escape he had had.
"What are you grinning at?" said Cresswell sharply, not understanding
the little burst of merriment in his presence.
Dick recovered himself, and said simply, "They've been trying to make a
fool of me. I beg your pardon for bothering you."
"Hold hard!" said Cresswell, as the boy was about to retreat. "It's
very likely they have made a fool of you--they're used to hard work.
But you're not going to make a fool of me. Come in and tell me all
about it."
Dick coloured up crimson, and threw himself on the monitor's mercy.
"You'll think me such an ass," said he, appealingly. "It's really
nothing."
"I do think you an ass already," said the senior, "so, out with it."
Whereupon Dick, blushing deeply, told him the whole story in a way which
quite captivated the listener by its artlessness.
"They said you were an awful muff, and couldn't run any faster than a
snail, you know,"--began he--"and as I had pulled off the new boys'
race, they said they'd make me Whipper-in of the Harriers instead of
you, and told me to come and tell you so, and ask you to _give_ me the
whip."
Cresswell laughed in spite of himself.
"Do you really want it?" he asked.
"Not now, thank you."
"I suppose you'd been swaggering after you'd won the race, and they
wanted to take the conceit out of you?"
"Yes, I suppose so."
"And have they succeeded?"
"Well--yes," said Dick. "I think they have."
"Then, they've done you a very good turn, my boy, and you'll be grateful
to them some day. As for the whip, you can tell them if they'll come
here for it, I'll give it to them with pleasure. There goes the dinner
bell--cut off, or you'll be late."
"Thanks, Cresswell. I suppose," said the boy, lingering a moment at the
door, "you won't be obliged to tell everybody about it?"
"You can do that better than I can," said the Sixth-form boy, laughing.
And Dick felt, as he hurried down to Hall, that he was something more
than well out of it. Instead of meeting the fate which his own conceit
had prepared, he had secured a friend at court, who, something told him,
would stand by him in the coming term. His self-esteem had had a fall,
but his self-respect had had a decided lift; for he felt now that he
went in and out under inspection, and that Cresswell's good opinion was
a distinction by all means to be coveted.
As a token of his improved frame of mind, he made frank confession of
the whole story to Heathcote during dinner; and found his friend, as he
knew he would be, brimful of sympathy and relief at his narrow escape.
Swinstead and Birket, as they watched their man from their distant
table, were decidedly perplexed by his cheerful demeanour, and full of
curiosity to learn the history of the interview.
They waylaid him casually in the court that afternoon.
"Well, have you settled it?" said Birket.
"Eh? Oh, yes, it's all right," replied Dick, rather enjoying himself.
"He made no difficulty about it, did he?"
"Not a bit. Jolly as possible."
It was not often that two Fifth-form boys at Templeton felt
uncomfortable in the presence of a new junior, but Swinstead and Birket
certainly did feel a trifle disconcerted at the coolness of their young
victim.
"You told him we sent you?"
"Rather. He was awfully obliged."
"Was he? And did he give you the whip?"
"No, he hadn't got it handy. But I told him he could give it to you two
next time he met you--and he's going to."
And to the consternation of his patrons the new boy walked off,
whistling sweetly to himself and watching attentively the flight of the
rooks round the school tower.
"Old man, we shall have some trouble with Number One," said Swinstead,
laughing.
"Yes, we've caught a Tartar for once," said Birket. "You and I may
retire into private life for a bit, I fancy."