CHAPTER XXXIII.

THE SCHOOLMASTER ABROAD.

"Boys, here's a noise!"

Sergeant Jakes strode up and down the long schoolroom on Friday morning,

flapping his empty sleeve, and swinging that big cane with the tuberous

joints, whose taste was none too saccharine. That well-known

ejaculation, so expressive of stern astonishment, had for the moment its

due effect. Curly heads were jerked back, elbows squared, sniggers were

hushed, the munch of apples (which had been as of milching kine) stuck

fast, or was shunted into bulging cheek; never a boy seemed capable of

dreaming that there was any other boy in the world besides himself.

Scratch of pens, and grunts of mental labour, were the only sounds in

this culmination of literature, known as "Copy-exercise." As Achilles,

though reduced to a ghost, took a longer stride at the prowess of his

son; and as deep joys, on a similar occasion, pervaded Latona's silent

breast; even so High-Jarks sucked the top of his cane, and felt that he

had not lived in vain. There are many men still hearty--though it is so

long ago--who have led a finer life, through that man's higher culture.

But presently--such is the nature of human nature, in its crude

probation--the effect of that noble remonstrance waned. Silence (which

is itself a shadow, cast by death upon life perhaps) began to

flicker--as all dulness should--with the play of small ideas moving it.

Little timid whispers, a cane's length below the breath, and with the

heart shuffling out of all participation; and then a tacit grin that was

afraid to move the molars, and then a cock of eye, that was intended to

involve (when a bigger eye was turned away) its mighty owner; and then a

clink of marbles in a pocket down the leg; and then a downright joke, of

such very subtle humour, that it stole along the bench through funnel'd

hands; and then alas, a small boy of suicidal levity sputtered out a

laugh, which made wiser wigs stand up!

His crime was only deepened by ending in sham cough; and sad to say, the

very boy who had made the fatal joke (instead of being grateful for

reckless approbation) stood up and pointed an unmanly finger at him. The

Sergeant's keen eye was upon them both; and a tremble ran along the oak,

that bore many tempting aptitudes for the vindication of ethics. But the

Sergeant bode his time. His sense of justice was chivalrous. Let the big

boy make another joke.

"Boys, here's a noise, again!"

Those who have not had the privilege of the Sergeant's lofty discipline

can never understand--far less convey--the significance of his second

shout. It expressed profound amazement, horror at our fallen state,

incredulity of his own ears, promptitude to redress the wrong, and yet a

pathetic sorrow at the impending grim necessity. The boys knew well that

his second protest never ascended to heaven in vain; and the owners of

tender quarters shrank, and made ready to slide beneath the protection

of their bench. Other boys, with thick corduroys, quailed for the

moment, and closed their mouths; but what mouth was ever closed

permanently, by the opening of another?

"Now you shall have it, boys," the Sergeant thundered, as the uproar

waxed beyond power of words. "Any boy slipping out of stroke shall have

double cuts for cowardice. Stop the ends up. All along both rows of

benches; I am coming, I am coming!"

"Oh sir, please sir, 'twadn' me, sir! 'Twor all along o' Bill Cornish,

sir."

He had got this trimmer by the collar, and his cane swung high in air,

when the door was opened vigorously, and a brilliant form appeared.

Brilliant, less by its own merits, than by brave embellishment, as

behoves a youth ascending stairs of state from page to footman, and

mounting upward, ever upward, to the vinous heights of Butlerhood. For

this was Bob Cornish, Bill's elder brother; and he smiled at the terrors

of the hurtling cane, compulsive but a year ago, of tears.

With a dignity already imbibed from Binstock, this young man took off

his hat, and employing a spare slate as a tray, presented a letter with

a graceful bow. He was none too soon, but just in time. The weapon of

outraged law came down, too lightly to dust a jacket; and the smiter,

wonder-smitten, went to a desk, and read as follows.

"Lady Waldron will be much obliged if Sergeant Jakes will come

immediately in the vehicle sent with the bearer of this letter. Let no

engagement forbid this. Mr. Penniloe has kindly consented to it."

The roof resounded with shouts of joy, instead of heavy wailing, as the

Sergeant at once dismissed the school; and in half an hour he entered

the business-room at Walderscourt, and there found the lady of the

house, looking very resolute, and accompanied by her daughter.

"Soldier Jakes will take a chair. See that the door is closed, my

child, and no persons lingering near it. Now, Inez, will you say to this

brave soldier of your father's regiment, what we desire him to

undertake, if he will be so faithful; for the benefit of his Colonel's

family; also for the credit of this English country."

This was clever of my lady. She knew that the veteran's liking was not

particularly active for herself, or any of the Spanish nation; but that

he had transferred his love and fealty of so many years, to his

Officer's gentle daughter. Any request from Nicie would be almost as

sacred a command to him, as if it had come from her father. He stood up,

made a low bow followed by a military salute, and gazed at the sweet

face he loved so well.

"It is for my dear father's sake; and I am as sure as he himself would

be," Miss Waldron spoke with tears in her eyes, and a sad smile on her

lips that would have moved a heart much harder than this veteran's,

"that you will not refuse to do us a great, a very great service, if you

can. And we have nobody we can trust like you; because you are so true,

and brave."

The Sergeant rose again, and made another bow even deeper than the

former one; but instead of touching his grizzled locks he laid his one

hand on his heart; and although by no means a gushing man, he found it

impossible to prevent a little gleam, like the upshot of a well,

quivering under his ferny brows.

"We would not ask you even so," continued Nicie, with a grateful glance,

"if it were not that you know the place, and perhaps may find some

people there still living to remember you. When my father lay wounded at

the house of my grandfather, and was in great danger of his life, you,

being also disabled for a time, were allowed at his request to remain

with him, and help him. Will you go to that place again, to do us a

service no one else can do?"

"To the end of the world, Miss, without asking why. But the Lord have

mercy on all them boys! Whatever will they do without me?"

"We will arrange about all that, with Mr. Penniloe's consent. If that

can be managed, will you go, at once, and at any inconvenience to

yourself?"

"No ill-convenience shall stop me, Miss. If I thought of that twice, I

should be a deserter, afore the lines of the enemy. To be of the least

bit of use to you, is an honour as well as a duty to me."

"I thought that you would; I was sure that you would." Inez gave a

glance of triumph at her less trustful mother. "And what makes us hurry

you so, is the chance that has suddenly offered for your passage. We

heard this morning, by an accident almost, that a ship is to sail from

Topsham to-morrow, bound direct for Cadiz. Not a large ship, but a

fast-sailing vessel--a schooner I think they call it, and the Captain is

one of Binstock's brothers. You would get there in half the time it

would take to go to London, and wait about for passage, and then come

all down the Channel. And from Cadiz you can easily get on. You know a

little Spanish, don't you?"

"Not reg'lar, Miss. But it will come back again. I picked up just enough

for this--I couldn't understand them much; but I could make them look as

if they understanded me."

"That is quite sufficient. You will have letters to three or four

persons who are settled there, old servants of my grandfather. We cannot

tell which of them may be alive, but may well hope that some of them are

so. The old house is gone, I must tell you that. After all the troubles

of the war, there was not enough left to keep it up with."

"That grand old house, Miss, with the pillars, and the carrots, and the

arches, the same as in a picture! And everybody welcome; and you never

knew if there was fifty, or a hundred in it----"

"Sergeant, you describe it well;" Lady Waldron interrupted. "There are

no such mansions in this country. Alas, it is gone from us for ever,

because we loved our native land too well!"

"Not only that," said the truthful Inez; "but also because the young

Count, as you would call him, has wasted the relics of his patrimony.

And now I will explain to you the reasons for our asking this great

service of you."

The veteran listened with close attention, and no small astonishment, to

the young lady's clear account of that great public lottery, and the

gorgeous prize accruing on the death of Sir Thomas Waldron. This was

enough to tempt a ruined man to desperate measures; and Jakes had some

knowledge in early days of the young Count's headstrong character. But

if it should prove so, if he were guilty of the crime which had caused

so much distress and such prolonged unhappiness, yet his sister could

not bear that the sordid motive should be disclosed, at least in this

part of the world. For the sake of others, it would be needful to

denounce the culprit; but if the detection were managed well, no motive

need be assigned at all. Let every one form his own conclusion. Spanish

papers, and Spanish news, came very sparely to Devonshire; and the

English public would be sure (in ignorance of that financial scheme,

whose result supplied the temptation) to ascribe the assault upon

Protestant rites to Popish contempt and bigotry.

"I should tell the whole, if I had to decide it;" said Nicie with the

candour and simplicity of youth. "If he has done it, for the sake of

nasty money, let everybody know what he has done it for."

But the Sergeant shook his head, and quite agreed with Lady Waldron. The

world was quite quick enough at bad constructions, without receiving

them ready-made.

"Leave busy-bodies to do their own buzzing;" was his oracular

suggestion. "'Tis a grand old family, even on your mother's side, Miss;"

Nicie smiled a little, as her mother stared at this new comparative

estimate. "And what odds to our clodhoppers what they do? A Don don't

look at things the same as a dung-carter; and it takes a man who knows

the world to make allowance for him. The Count may have done it, mind. I

won't say no, until such time as I can prove it. But after all, 'tis

comforting to think that it was so, compared to what we all was afraid

of. Why, the dear old Colonel would be as happy as a King, in the place

he was so nigh going to after the battle of Barosa; looking down over

the winding of the river, and the moon among the orange-trees, where he

was a' making love!"

"Hush!" whispered Nicie, as her mother turned away, with a trembling in

her throat; and the old man saw that the memory of the brighter days had

brought the shadows also.

"Saturday to-morrow. Boys will do very well, till Monday;" he came out

with this abruptly, to cover his confusion. "By that time, please God, I

shall be in the Bay of Biscay. This is what I'll do, Miss, if it suits

you and my lady. I'll come again to-night at nine o'clock, with my kit

slung tidy, and not a word to anybody. Then I can have the letters,

Miss, and my last orders. Ship sails at noon to-morrow, name of

_Montilla_. Mail-coach to Exeter passes White Post, a little after

half-past ten to-night. Be aboard easily, afore daylight. No, Miss,

thank you, I shan't want no money. Passage paid to and fro. Old soldier

always hath a shot in the locker."

"As if we should let you go, like that! You shall not go at all, unless

you take this purse."

That evening he received his last instructions, and the next day he

sailed in the schooner _Montilla_.

Even after the many strange events, which had by this time caused such a

whirl of giddiness in Perlycross, that if there had been a good crack

across the street, every man and woman would have fallen headlong into

it; and even before there had been leisure for people to try to tell

them anyhow, to one another--much less discuss them at all as they

deserved--this sudden break-up of the school, and disappearance of High

Jarks, would have been absolutely beyond belief, if there had not been

scores of boys, too loudly in evidence everywhere. But when a chap,

about four feet high, came scudding in at any door that was open, and

kicking at it if it dared to be shut, and then went trying every

cupboard-lock, and making sad eyes at his mother if the key was out; and

then again, when he was stuffed to his buttons--which he would be, as

sure as eggs are eggs--if the street went howling with his playful ways,

and every corner was in a jerk with him, and no elderly lady could go

along without her umbrella in front of her--how was it possible for any

mother not to feel herself guilty of more harm than good?

In a word, "High Jarks" was justified (as all wisdom is) of his

children; and the weak-minded women, who had complained that he smote

too hard, were the first to find fault with the feeble measures of his

substitute, Vickary Toogood of Honiton. This gentleman came into office

on Monday, smiling in a very superior manner at his predecessor's

arrangements.

"I think we may lock up that," he said, pointing to the Sergeant's

little tickler; "we must be unworthy of our vocation, if we cannot

dispense with such primitive tools." A burst of applause thrilled every

bench; but knowing the boys of his parish so well, Mr. Penniloe shook

his head with dubious delight.

And truly before the week was out, many a time would he murmur

sadly--"Oh for one hour of the Sergeant!" as he heard the Babel of

tongues outside, and entering saw the sprawling elbows, slouching

shoulders, and hands in pockets, which the "Apostle of Moral

force"--_Moral farce_ was its sound and meaning here--permitted as the

attitude of pupilage.

"Sim'th I be quite out in my reckoning;" old Channing the Clerk had the

cheek to say, as he met the Parson outside the school-door; "didn't know

it were Whit-Monday yet."

Mr. Penniloe smiled, but without rejoicing; he understood the reference

too well. Upon Whit-Monday the two rival Benefit-clubs of the village

held their feast, and did their very utmost from bridge to Abbey, to

out-drum, out-fife, and out-trumpet one another. Neither in his house

was his conscience left untouched.

"I think Lady Waldron might have sent us a better man than that is;"

Mrs. Muggridge observed one afternoon, when the uproar came across the

road, and pierced the rectory windows. "I am not sure but what little

Master Mike could keep better order than that is. Why, the beating of

the bounds was nothing to it. What could you be about, sir, to take such

a man as that?" Thyatira had long established full privilege of censure.

"Certainly there is a noise;" the Curate was always candid. "But he

brought the very highest credentials from the Institute. We have

scarcely given him fair trial yet. The system is new, you see, Mrs.

Muggridge; and it must be allowed some time to take effect. No physical

force, the moral sense appealed to, the higher qualities educed by

kindness, the innate preference of right promoted and strengthened by

self-exertion, the juvenile faculties to be elevated, from the moment

of earliest development, by a perception of their high responsibility,

and, and--well I really forget the rest, but you perceive that it

amounts to----"

"Row, and riot, and roaring rubbish. That's what it amounts to, sir. But

I beg your pardon, sir; excuse my boldness, for speaking out, upon

things so far above me. But when they comes across the road, at ten

o'clock in the morning, to beg for a lump of raw beefsteak, by reason of

two boys getting four black eyes, in fighting across the Master's desk,

the new system seem not Apostolical. An Apostle, about as much as I am!

My father was above me, and had gifts, and he put himself back, when not

understanded, to the rising generation; but he never would demean

himself, to send for raw beefsteak for their black eyes."

"And I think he would have shown his common sense in that. What did you

do, my good Thyatira?" Mr. Penniloe had a little spice of mischief in

him, which always accompanies a sub-sense of humour.

"This was what I did, sir. I looked at him, and he seemed to have been

in the wars himself, and to have come across, perhaps to get out of

them, being one of the clever ones, as true Schoolmaster sayeth, and by

the same token not so thick of head; and he looked up at me, as if he

was proud of it, to take me in; while the real fighting boys look down,

as I know by my brother who was guilty of it; and I said to him, very

quiet like--'No steak kept here for moral-force black-eyes-boys. You go

to Robert Jakes, the brother of a man that understands his business, and

tell him to enter in his books, half a pound prime-cut, for four black

eyes, to the credit of Vickary Toogood.'"

It was not only thus, but in many other ways, that the village at large

shed painful tears (sadly warranted by the ears), and the Church looked

with scorn at the children straggling in, like a lot of Dissenters going

anyhow; and the Cross at the meeting of the four main roads, which had

been a fine stump for centuries, lost its proper coat of whitewash on

Candlemas-day; and the crystal Perle itself began to be threaded with

red from pugnacious noses. For the lesson of all history was repeated,

that softness universal, and unlimited concession, set off very

grandly, but come home with broken heads, to load their guns with

grapnel.

And what could Mr. Penniloe do, when some of the worst belligerents were

those of his own household; upon one frontier his three pupils, and upon

another, Zip Tremlett? Pike, Peckover, and Mopuss, the pupils now come

back again, were all very decent and law-abiding fellows, but had

drifted into a savage feud with the factory boys at the bottom of the

village. As they were but three against three score, it soon became

unsafe for them to cross Perlebridge, without securing their line of

retreat. Of course they looked down from a lofty height upon "cads who

smelled of yarn, and even worse;" but what could moral, or even lineal

excellence, avail them against the huge disparity of numbers? Each of

them held himself a match for any three of the enemy, and they issued a

challenge upon that scale; but the paper-cap'd host showed no chivalry.

On one occasion, this noble trio held the bridge victoriously against

the whole force of the enemy, inflicting serious loss, and even

preparing for a charge upon the mass. But the cowardly mass found a heap

of road-metal, and in lack of their own filled the air with it, and the

Pennilovian heroes had begun to bite the dust, when luckily Farmer John

rode up, and saved the little force from annihilation by slashing right

and left through the Operative phalanx.

When Mr. Penniloe heard of this pitched battle, he was deeply grieved;

and sending for his pupils administered a severe rebuke to them. But

John Pike's reply was a puzzler to him.

"If you please, sir, will you tell us what to do, when they fall upon

us?"

"Endeavour to avoid them;" replied the Clergyman, feeling some want of

confidence however in his counsel.

"So we do, sir, all we can;" Pike made answer, with the aspect of a

dove. "But they won't be avoided, when they think they've got enough

cads together to lick us."

"I should like to know one thing," enquired the Hopper, striking out his

calves, which were now becoming of commanding size; "are we to be called

'Latin tay-kettles,' and 'Parson's pups,' and then do nothing but run

away?"

"My father says that the road is called the King's Highway;" said

Mopuss, who was a fat boy, with great deliberation, "because all his

subjects have a right to it, but no right to throw it at one another."

"I admit that a difficulty arises there;" replied Mr. Penniloe as

gravely as he could, for Mopuss was always quoting his papa, a lawyer of

some eminence. "But really, my lads, we must not have any more of this.

There is fault upon both sides, beyond all doubt. I shall see the

factory manager to-morrow, and get him to warn his pugnacious band. I am

very unwilling to confine you to these premises; but if I hear of any

more pitched battles, I shall be compelled to do so, until peace has

been proclaimed."

Here again was Jakes to seek; for the fear of him lay upon the factory

boys, as heavily as upon his own school-children. And perhaps as sore a

point as any was that he should have been rapt away, without full reason

rendered.

Perlycross: A Tale of the Western Hills · 第 33 / 44 章