The afternoon of the famous "indignation meeting" in the Fourth Junior
was the afternoon of the week which Mr Cripps the younger, putting
aside for a season the anxieties and responsibilities of his "public"
duties in Maltby, usually devoted to the pursuit of the "gentle craft,"
at his worthy father's cottage by Gusset Weir. Loman, who was aware of
this circumstance, and on whose spirit that restless top joint had
continued to prey ever since the evening of the misadventure a week ago,
determined to avail himself of the opportunity of returning the unlucky
fishing-rod into the hands from which he had received it.
He therefore instructed Stephen to take it up to the lock-house with a
note to the effect that having changed his mind in the matter since
speaking to Cripps, he found he should not require the rod, and
therefore returned it, with many thanks for Mr Cripps's trouble.
Stephen, little suspecting the questionable nature of his errand,
undertook the commission, and duly delivered both rod and letter into
the hands of Mr Cripps, who greatly astonished him by swearing very
violently at the contents of the letter. "Well," said he, when he had
exhausted his vocabulary (not a small one) of expletives--"well, of all
the grinning jackanapeses, this is the coolest go! Do you take me for a
fool?"
Stephen, to whom this question appeared to be directly applied,
disclaimed any idea of the kind, and added, "I don't know what you
mean."
"Don't you, my young master? All right! Tell Mr Loman I'll wait upon
him one fine day, see if I don't! Here's me, given up a whole blessed
day to serve him, and a pot of money out of my pocket, and here he goes!
not a penny for my pains! Chucks the thing back on my 'ands as cool as
a coocumber, all because he's changed his mind. I'll let him have a bit
of my mind, tell him, Mr Gentleman Schoolboy, see if I don't. I ain't
a-going to be robbed, no! not by all the blessed monkeys that ever wrote
on slates! _I'll_ wait upon him, see if I don't!"
Stephen, to whom the whole of this oration, which was garnished with
words that we can hardly set down in print, or degrade ourselves by
suggesting, was about as intelligible as if it had been Hebrew, thought
it better to make no reply, and sorrowed inwardly to find that such a
nice man as Mr Cripps should possess so short a temper. But the
landlord of the Cockchafer soon recovered from his temporary annoyance,
and even proceeded to apologise to Stephen for the warmth of his
language.
"You'll excuse me, young gentleman," said he, "but I'm a plain-spoken
man, and I was--there, I won't deny it--I was a bit put out about this
here rod first go off. You'll excuse me--of course I don't mean no
offence to you or Mister Loman neither, who's one of the nicest young
gentlemen I ever met. Of course if you'd a' paid seventy bob out of
your own pocket it would give _you_ a turn; leastways, if you was a
struggling, honest working man, like me."
"That's it," snivelled, old Mr Cripps, who had entered during this last
speech; "that's it, Benny, my boy, honest Partisans, that's what we is,
who knows what it are to be in want of a shillin' to buy a clo' or two
for the little childer."
What particular little "childer" Mr Cripps senior and his son were
specially interested in no one knew, for neither of them was blessed
with any. However, it was one of old Mr Cripps's heart-moving phrases,
and no one was rude enough to ask questions.
Stephen did not, on the present occasion, feel moved to respond to the
old man's lament, and Cripps junior, with more adroitness than filial
affection, hustled the old gentleman out of the door.
"Never mind him," said he to Stephen. "He's a silly old man, and always
pretends he's starvin'. If you believe me, he's a thousand pounds
stowed away somewheres. I on'y wish," added he, with a sigh, "he'd give
me a taste of it, for its 'ard, up-'ill work makin' ends meet,
particular when a man's deceived by parties. No matter. I'll pull
through; you see!"
Stephen once more did not feel called upon to pursue this line of
conversation, and therefore changed the subject.
"Oh, Mr Cripps, how much is that bat?"
"Bat! Bless me if I hadn't nearly forgot all about it. Ain't it a
beauty, now?"
"Yes, pretty well," said Stephen, whose friends had one and all abused
the bat, and who was himself a little disappointed in his expectations.
"Pretty well! I like that. You must be a funny cricketer, young
gentleman, to call that bat only pretty well. I suppose you want me to
take _that_ back, too?" and here Mr Cripps looked very fierce.
"Oh, no," said Stephen, hurriedly. "I only want to know what I am to
pay for it."
"Oh, come now, we needn't mind about that. That'll keep, you know. As
if I wanted the money. Ha, ha!"
Even a green boy like Stephen could not fail to wonder why, if Mr
Cripps was as hard up as he had just described himself, he should now be
so anxious to represent himself as not in want of money.
"Please, I want to know the price."
"As if I was a-going to name prices to a young gentleman like you!
Please yourself about it. I shall not be disappointed if you gives me
only eighteenpence, and if _you_ thinks twelve bob is handsome, well,
let it be. _I_ can struggle on somehow."
This was uncomfortable for Stephen, who, too green, fortunately, to
comprehend the drift of Mr Cripps's gentle hints, again asked that he
would name a price.
This time Mr Cripps answered more precisely.
"Well, that there bat is worth a guinea, if you want to know, but I'll
say a sovereign for cash down."
Stephen whistled a long-drawn whistle of dismay.
"A sovereign! I can't pay all that! I thought it would be about seven
shillings!"
"Did you? You may think what you like, but that's my price, and you are
lucky to get it at that."
"I shall have to send it back. I can't afford so much," said Stephen,
despondingly.
"Not if I know it! I'll have none of your second-hand bats, if I know
it. Come, young gentleman, I may be a poor man, but I'm not a fool, and
you'll find it out if I've any of your nonsense. Do you suppose I've
nothing to do but wait on jackanapeses like you and your mates? No
error! There you are. That'll do, and if you don't like it--well, the
governor shall know about it!"
Stephen was dreadfully uncomfortable. Though, to his knowledge, he had
done nothing wrong, he felt terribly guilty at the bare notion of the
Doctor being informed of his transactions with Mr Cripps, besides
greatly in awe of the vague threats held out by that gentleman. He did
not venture on further argument, but, bidding a hasty farewell, returned
as fast as he could to Saint Dominic's, wondering whatever Oliver would
say, and sorely repenting the day when first he was tempted to think of
the unlucky bat.
He made a clean breast of it to his brother that evening, who, of
course, called him an ass, and everything else complimentary, and was
deservedly angry. However, Stephen had reason to consider himself lucky
to possess an elder brother at the school who had a little more
shrewdness than himself. Oliver was determined the debt should be paid
at once, without even waiting to write home, and by borrowing ten
shillings from Wraysford, and adding to it the residue of his own
pocket-money, the sovereign was raised and dispatched that very night to
Mr Cripps; after which Oliver commanded his brother to sit down and
write a full confession of his folly home, and ask for the money,
promising never to make such a fool of himself again. This task the
small boy, with much shame and trembling at heart, accomplished; and in
due time an answer came from his mother which not only relieved his mind
but paid off his debts to Oliver and Wraysford, and once for all closed
the business of the treble-cane splice bat.
It would have been well for Loman if he could have got out of his
difficulties as easily and as satisfactorily.
Ever since he had gathered from Stephen Mr Cripps's wrath on receiving
the returned rod, he had been haunted by a dread lest the landlord of
the Cockchafer should march up to Saint Dominic's, and possibly make an
exposure of the unhappy business before the Doctor and the whole school.
He therefore, after long hesitation and misgiving, determined himself
to call at the Cockchafer, and try in some way to settle matters. One
thing reassured him. If Cripps had discovered the crack or the fracture
in the rod, he would have heard of it long before now; and if he had
not, then the longer the time the less chance was there of the damage
being laid at his door. So he let three weeks elapse, and then went to
Maltby. The Cockchafer was a small, unpretentious tavern, frequented
chiefly by carriers and tradesmen, and, I regret to say, not wholly
unknown to some of the boys of Saint Dominic's, who were foolish enough
to persuade themselves that skittles, and billiards, and beer were
luxuries worth the risk incurred by breaking one of the rules of the
school. No boy was permitted to enter any place of refreshment except a
confectioner's in Maltby under the penalty of a severe punishment, which
might, in a bad case, mean expulsion. Loman, therefore, a monitor and a
Sixth Form boy, had to take more than ordinary precautions to reach the
Cockchafer unobserved, which he succeeded in doing, and to his
satisfaction--as well as to his trepidation--found Mr Cripps the
younger at home.
"Ho, he! my young shaver," was that worthy's greeting, "here you are at
last."
This was not encouraging to begin with. It sounded very much as if Mr
Cripps had been looking forward to this visit. However, Loman put as
bold a face as he could on to it, and replied, "Hullo, Cripps, how are
you? It's a long time since I saw you; jolly day, isn't it?"
"Jolly!" replied Mr Cripps, looking very gloomy, and drawing a glass of
beer for the young gentleman before he ordered it. Loman did not like
it at all. There was something about Cripps's manner that made him feel
very uncomfortable.
"Oh, Cripps," he presently began, in as off-hand a manner as he could
assume under the depressing circumstances--"Oh, Cripps, about that rod,
by the way. I hope you didn't mind my sending it back. The fact is,"
(and here followed a lie which till that moment had not been in the
speaker's mind to tell)--"the fact is, I find I'm to get a present of a
rod this summer at home, or else of course I would have kept it."
Mr Cripps said nothing, but began polishing up a pewter pot with a
napkin.
"I hope you got it back all right," continued Loman, who felt as if he
must say something. "They are such fragile things, you know. I thought
I'd just leave it in the bag and not touch it, but send it straight
back, for fear it should be damaged."
There was a queer smile about Mr Cripps's mouth as he asked, "Then you
didn't have a look at it even?"
"Well, no, I thought I would--I thought I wouldn't run any risk."
Loman was amazed at himself. He had suddenly made up his mind to tell
one lie, but here they were following one after another, as if he had
told nothing but lies all his life! Alas, there was no drawing back
either!
"The fact is," he began again, speaking for the sake of speaking, and
not even knowing what he was going to say--"the fact is--" Here the
street door opened, and there entered hurriedly a boy whom Loman, to his
confusion and consternation, recognised as Simon of the Fifth, the
author of the "Love-Ballad." What could the monitor say for himself to
explain his presence in this prohibited house?
"Hullo, Loman, I say, is that you?" remarked Simon.
"Oh, Simon, how are you?" faltered the wretched Loman; "I've just popped
in to speak to Cripps about a fishing-rod. You'd better not come in;
you might get into trouble."
"Oh, never mind. You won't tell of me, and I won't tell of you. Glass
of the usual, please, Cripps. I say, Loman, was that the fishing-rod
you were switching about out of your window that afternoon three weeks
ago?"
Loman turned red and white by turns, and wished the earth would swallow
him! And to think of this fellow, the biggest donkey in Saint
Dominic's, blurting out the very thing which of all things he had
striven to keep concealed!
Mr Cripps's mouth worked up into a still more ugly smile.
"I was below in the garden, you know, and could not make out what you
were up to. You nearly had my eye out with that hook. I say, what a
smash you gave it when it caught in the ivy. Was it broken right off,
or only cracked, eh? Cripps will mend it for you, won't you, Cripps?"
Neither Mr Cripps nor Loman spoke a word. The latter saw that
concealment was no longer possible; and bitterly he rued the day when
first he heard the name of Cripps.
That worthy, seeing the game to have come beautifully into his own
hands, was not slow to take advantage of it. He beckoned Loman into the
inner parlour, whither the boy tremblingly followed, leaving Simon to
finish his glass of "the usual" undisturbed.
I need not repeat the painful conversation that ensued between the
sharper and the wretched boy. It was no use for the latter to deny or
explain. He was at the mercy of the man, and poor mercy it was.
Cripps, with many oaths and threats, explained to Loman that he could,
if he chose, have him up before a magistrate for fraud, and that he
would do so for a very little. Loman might choose for himself between a
complete exposure, involving his disgrace for life, or paying the price
of the rod down and 20 besides, and he might consider himself lucky more
was not demanded.
The boy, driven to desperation between terror and shame, implored mercy,
and protested with tears in his eyes that he would do anything, if only
Cripps did not expose him.
"You know what it is, then," replied Cripps.
"But how am I to get the 20 pounds? I daren't ask for it at home, and
there's no one here will lend it me. Oh, Cripps, what shall I do?" and
the boy actually caught Mr Cripps's hand in his own as he put the
question.
"Well, look here," said Mr Cripps, unbending a little, "that 20 pounds
I must have, there's no mistake about it; but I don't want to be too
hard on you, and I can put you up to raising the wind."
"Oh, can you?" gasped Loman, eager to clutch at the faintest straw of
hope. "I'll do anything."
"Very good; then it's just this: I've just got a straight tip about the
Derby that I know for certain no one else has got--that is, that Sir
Patrick won't win, favourite and all as he is. Now there's a friend of
mine I can introduce you to, who's just wanting to put a twenty on the
horse, if he can find any one to take it. It wouldn't do for me to make
the wager, or he'd smell a rat; but if you put your money _against_ the
horse, you're bound to win, and all safe. What do you say?"
"I don't know anything about betting," groaned Loman. "Are you quite
sure I'd win?"
"Certain. If you lose I'll only ask 10 pounds of you, there! that's as
good as giving you 10 pounds myself on the horse, eh?"
"Well," said Loman, "I suppose I must. Where is he?"
"Wait here a minute, and I'll bring him round."
Loman waited, racked by a sense of ignominy and terror. Yet this seemed
his only hope. Could he but get this 20 pounds and pay off Cripps he
would be happy. Oh, how he repented listening to that first temptation
to deceive!
In due time Mr Cripps returned with his friend, who was very civil on
hearing Loman's desire to bet against Sir Patrick.
"Make it a 50 pounds note while you are about it," said he.
"No, 20 pounds is all I want to go for," replied Loman.
"Twenty then, all serene, sir," said the gentleman, booking the bet.
"What'll you take to drink?"
"Nothing, thank you," said Loman, hurriedly rising to leave.
"Good-day, sir," said Cripps, holding out his hand.
Loman looked at the hand and then at Mr Cripps's face. There was the
same ugly leer about the latter, into which a spark of anger was infused
as the boy still held back from the proffered hand.
With an inward groan Loman gave the hand a spiritless grasp, and then
hurried back miserable and conscience-stricken to Saint Dominic's.