indignantly. Saurin heard him as he hurried off, and if he had had any
money in his pocket he would have turned back, thrown it to the image
man, and asked Crawley what he meant. But being without funds he was
obliged to make off while he could, or the Italian would fix on him and
follow him home. For to break away and show him a fair pair of heels
across country would be impossible after an altercation with his school-
fellow; it would be putting himself in too humiliating a position. So
he walked on at a sharp pace, choking with suppressed passion.
"Where he live, that fellow; where he live?" cried the Italian. "Per
Baccho, I will have the police to him! You know him, excellenza; tell
me where he live?"
"I will not tell you that," said Crawley. "But here's half-a-crown for
you."
A considerable number of boys had now collected, and as example, whether
for good or evil, has an extraordinary effect on either boys or men, a
collection was started. Some gave a shilling, some sixpence, and a sum
of ten shillings was made up altogether, which was probably quite as
much as the figures were worth. So the Italian calmed down and dried
his eyes, for he had been crying like a child, and with a profusion of
thanks took up his board and went his way. And it being time to go back
to Weston, all the boys started off in that direction, leaving Mr
Wobbler to tramp backwards and forwards between his milestones in
solitude. Of course some kind friend told all this to Saurin, and it
exasperated him still more, if that was possible. One thing he was
determined upon, Crawley must be repaid the money he had given to the
Italian figure-seller at once. After hunting in all his waistcoat
pockets and his drawers he could only raise eighteenpence, so he went to
Edwards' room.
"Look here, old fellow," he said; "lend me a shilling till Monday, I
want it particularly."
"I'm awfully sorry," replied Edwards, "I have not got one."
"I'll pay you back on Monday, honour bright."
"I know you would; it isn't that. I assure you I am not making excuses;
you should have it directly if it were possible; but I am as penniless
as a fellow can be, not so much as a postage-stamp have I got."
"I must get a shilling somehow; whom to ask?"
"Ask Griffiths; he always has money," suggested Edwards.
"Hang the fellow, yes," said Saurin. "But he will make such a favour of
it if he lends it, and he is just as likely as not to refuse. I have
it, though! He offered me half-a-crown for my crossbow last term, and I
would not let him have it; he shall now."
The crossbow in question was an ingenious little thing about six inches
long, the bow of steel, the string of catgut, the stock and barrel of
wood, and it projected marbles or spherical bullets with very
considerable force. It would raise a bump on the head at twenty yards,
and break a window at thirty. Griffiths also lived in Mr Cookson's
house, so that Saurin had only to go to his own room, get out, dust, and
rub up the article, which had lain in a corner forgotten, and go up the
other staircase.
"I say, Griffiths," he began; "in turning out some old things I have
just come across this little steel bow which you wanted to buy of me,
you know. I am tired of it now, and so you can have it if you like.
Half-a-crown, I think, you said that you would give, was it not?"
Griffiths coveted the toy as much or more than ever he had done, but he
was a born dealer; and when he saw that the other was anxious to sell he
assumed indifference in order to lower the price.
"Why, you see," he said, "last term is not this term. I was pretty
flush just then, and had a fancy for the thing. Now the money has gone,
and I don't so much care."
"You won't have it then? oh! very well; all right."
"Stop, don't be in a hurry; I'll give you eighteenpence for it."
"Make it two shillings," urged Saurin.
"No; eighteenpence or nothing," Griffiths persisted.
"You old Jew! Well, here it is then," said Saurin.
"Have you got a shilling?" asked Griffiths. "I have only got half-a-
crown; but if you can give me change--"
Saurin took the coin, giving back a shilling without further remark. He
was thinking that it would be more effective to offer Crawley the larger
coin, instead of fumbling with small money, and the notion pleased him.
Besides he was not particularly disappointed; so long as he got what he
wanted at the moment, it was not his nature to look much further. But
he did not sleep much that night. Again this Crawley had scored off
him, by putting himself in the position of generous benefactor and
chivalrous defender of the weak, with him (Saurin) for his foil. There
was one comfort; he was not so much afraid of Crawley as he did not
conceal from himself that he had once been. Hitherto he had feared that
if it came to a quarrel, he would not get the best of it, and this had
caused him to restrain himself on many occasions when he had longed to
give vent to his feelings. But, now that he had skill and science on
his side, the case was different, and the balance in his favour; and if
this wonderful Crawley, whom everybody made such a fuss about, did not
like what he had to say to him, he might do the other thing.
The boys were gathered about the quadrangle in groups, waiting to go in
for eight o'clock school, for the different class-rooms were not open
till the master of each came with his key and unlocked the door, by
which time all the class were expected to be outside, ready to go in
with him. And so it was the custom to assemble rather early, and now,
though it was ten minutes to the hour by the big clock, the majority had
arrived. Directly Saurin came he looked for Crawley, and saw him
standing chatting with some other fellows. He walked straight up to
him.
"Oh, Crawley!" he said, "I hear that you paid that Italian blackguard
half-a-crown for his broken crockery yesterday, and since he made his
claim upon _me_, though I owed him nothing, I don't choose to let it
look as if you had paid anything for me, so here is your money back;"
and he tendered the half-crown, which the other did not put his hand out
to receive. This exasperated Saurin still more. "Take it," he said;
"only I'll thank you not to be so confoundedly officious again."
"I don't want your money," said Crawley quietly. "You are entirely
mistaken; I paid nothing for you. If I knew the image man's address I
would forward him your half-crown, but I do not. So you must hunt it up
for yourself if you want to make restitution."
"But you paid him the money."
"That was an act of private charity. The man whom you call a
blackguard--I don't know why, for _he_ had not been destroying any
defenceless person's property--had had a scoundrelly trick played him,
and I and some other fellows got up a subscription for him, as anyone
with a spark of gentlemanly feeling would be inclined to do. I am sorry
that your contribution is tendered too late, but so it is."
"So you call me a blackguard and a scoundrel, do you?" hissed Saurin,
who was quite beside himself with rage; and certainly Crawley's speech
was the reverse of soothing. "You stuck-up, hypocritical, canting,
conceited prig, I should like to break your nose for you."
"Break away, my hearty," said Crawley, putting his hands up; "but I am
not a plaster of Paris image, mind you, and can hit back."
The sneer was another spur to Saurin's passion; his temples throbbed as
if they would burst, and his look was as evil as a painter, wanting a
model for Mephistopheles, could have desired, as he sprang at his enemy
with an inarticulate cry, and struck at him with all his force. The
boys closed round them, eager, expectant, those at a distance running
up. But blows were hardly exchanged before someone cried, "Look out;
here's the Doctor!" and the combatants were separated, and the crowd
dispersed in an instant.
"We will meet again, I hope," said Saurin.
"Any time you like," replied Crawley.
"On Saturday afternoon in The Dell, then."
"I shall be there, and I hope we shall not be interrupted." And they
walked off in different directions, trying to look as if nothing was the
matter, which was not so easy, Saurin being hardly able to restrain his
excitement, and Crawley being flushed about the forehead, where the
other's fist had struck him; otherwise he was no more discomposed than
usual, and, being put on to construe soon after entering the school,
acquitted himself very well and with the most perfect _sang froid_.
Fortunately Saurin was not subjected to the same ordeal or he would have
been considerably flustered, if not totally unable to fix his mind on
the subject; and he might have excited suspicion as to something unusual
going on, which again might have caused inquiry, and so spoiled sport.
But he was not called up, the redness of Crawley's brow remained
unnoticed, and all was satisfactory. This was Thursday, so there was a
day's intermission before the fight, which was the general school topic.
The weather, which had been very fine in the early part of the term,
had broken up, the sodden grass was unfavourable for cricket and lawn-
tennis, so that this little excitement came in just at the convenient
time. I wonder why everything connected with fighting is so
interesting! Little children love playing at soldiers best of all
games, and delight in destroying whole tin armies with pea-shooting
artillery. With what silent eagerness the newspapers are devoured in
war-time when the details of a battle appear! If two cocks in a farm-
yard get at one another the heaviest bumpkin from the plough-tail, who
seems incapable of an emotion, grows animated. I suppose it is because
of the animal nature of which we partake which frequently excites us to
prey on other animals and quarrel with one another. Fights were very
rare at Weston, but they took place occasionally, and there was even a
traditional spot called the Fairies' Dell, or more commonly The Dell,
where they were brought off. But for a boy of the standing and position
of Crawley,--in the highest form, captain of the eleven, secretary and
treasurer of the cricket and football clubs--to be engaged in such an
affair was unprecedented, and the interest taken in it was so great as
to set the whole school in a ferment. The dislike borne by Saurin to
the other was well known, as also that he had attributed his expulsion
from the eleven to him, though unjustly, since public opinion had been
well nigh unanimous on the point. As for the chances of the combatants,
only the small clique who frequented Slam's, most of whom had seen him
sparring with the gloves, favoured that of Saurin. The general idea was
that the latter was mad to try conclusions with one so superior to him
in every way, and that Crawley would lick him into fits in about ten
minutes. As for the champions themselves, they awaited the ordeal in
very different frames of mind. To Crawley the whole thing was an
unmitigated bore. It would get him into some trouble with the
authorities probably; it was inconsistent with his position in the
school, and was setting a bad example; then he could hardly expect to
avoid a black eye, and it was only three weeks to the holidays, by which
time his bruises would hardly have time to disappear. His family were
staying for the summer at Scarborough, and his sisters wrote him
enthusiastic accounts of the lawn-tennis parties there. How could he
present himself in decent society, with one of his eyes in mourning?
But he saw something comic in his own annoyance, and it did not affect
him sufficiently to interfere with his studies or amusements. He
neither feared the contest nor desired it. He had no wish to quarrel
with Saurin, a fellow he did not care for, it is true, but whom he did
not think sufficiently about to dislike. He thought rather better of
him for having the pluck to attack him, and was a little ashamed of his
own bitter words which had goaded the other into doing it. But really
the fellow had addressed him in such an overbearing and insolent manner
that he could not help replying as he did. After all, if he had to
fight someone, he would rather it were Saurin than anyone else, since he
appeared to hate him so much.
But if Crawley was cool about the matter, his antagonist was very much
the reverse. When his passion expended itself, he was not free from
apprehension of the consequences of what he had done. Supposing he were
ignominiously defeated, after having provoked the contest, what a
humiliating position he would be placed in? In every way in which he
had competed with Crawley he had hitherto been worsted, and he could not
help fearing lest this superiority should still be maintained. However,
the die was cast, he was in for it now, and must go through with it as
best he could, and, after all, his recently acquired skill must stand
him in good stead. Reason in this way as he might, however, he was
nervous, and could not settle to anything for long. On Friday night,
while Crawley was working in his room, there came a knock at the door,
and when he called out, "Come in!" Tom Buller entered.
"I have got something I want to tell you, Crawley," he said. "I have
just found out that Saurin has been taking lessons in boxing."
"Oh! of whom? Stubbs, Edwards, or someone equally formidable?"
"No; of Wobbler the pedestrian, who was once a pugilist, and who has
been giving boxing lessons at Slam's."
"Oh! I see, that is what has screwed his courage up to the proper
pitch. I understand it all now."
"Yes, but avoid wrestling with him; he is good at the cross-buttock, I
hear. May I be your second?"
"Certainly you may, if you like; Robarts is the other, and thank you for
wishing it, Buller."
CHAPTER SIX.
THE FIGHT.
Beyond the fields where cricket was played there was a little wood, and
in this wood a circular hollow, like a pond, only there was no water in
it. It was a wonderful spot for wild flowers in the spring, and that
was probably the reason why some romantic person had named it The
Fairies' Dell. The boys, who were not romantic, as a rule, dropped the
Fairies, and called it The Dell. As has been said, this spot was chosen
as the arena for the few fistic encounters which the annals of Weston
could enumerate, and a better place for the purpose there could hardly
be. There was plenty of room for a ring at the bottom, and the gently
sloping sides would accommodate a large number of spectators, all of
whom had a good sight of what was going on, while the whole party were
concealed from view.
At four o'clock on the Saturday afternoon this hollow was thickly
studded with Westonians, and all the best places taken. The masters
usually took advantage of the half-holiday to go out somewhere for the
afternoon, but still ordinary precautions to avoid observation had not
been neglected. The boys did not repair to the appointed spot in large
noisy bodies, but in small groups, quietly and unostentatiously. Some
of them took their bats and balls out, and began playing at cricket, and
then stole off to the rendezvous, which was close to them. Saurin was
first on the ground; he stood under the trees at the edge of the dell
with Edwards and Stubbs, who acted as his seconds, trying to laugh and
chat in an unconcerned manner, but he was pale, could hardly keep
himself still in one position, and frequently glanced stealthily in the
direction by which the other would come. Not to blink matters between
the reader and myself, he was in a funk. Not exactly a _blue_ funk, you
know, but still he did not half like it, and wished he was well out of
it.
Presently there was a murmur, and a movement, and Crawley, with Robarts
and Tom Buller on each side of him, and a knot of others following,
appeared. Without saying a word both boys went down the sides of the
dell to the circular space which had been carefully left for them at the
bottom, took off their jackets, waistcoats, and braces, and gave them to
their seconds, who folded them up and laid them aside, tied pocket-
handkerchiefs round their waists, turned up the bottoms of their
trousers, and stepped into the middle of the arena.
"Won't you offer to shake hands?" said Stubbs to Saurin. "I believe it
is usual on such occasions."
"Pooh!" replied Saurin, "that is in friendly encounters, to show there
is no malice. There is plenty of malice here, I can promise you." He
finished rolling up his shirt sleeves to the armpits as he spoke, and
walked to the middle of the ring, where Crawley confronted him. All
were wrapped in breathless attention as the two put up their hands, and
every note of a thrush singing in a tree hard by could be distinctly
heard.
The two boys were just about the same height and age, but Crawley had a
slightly longer reach in the arms, and was decidedly more "fit" and
muscular. But, on the other hand, it was evident directly they put
their hands up, that Saurin was the greatest adept at the business. The
carriage of his head and body, and the way he worked his arm and foot
together, showed this. He moved round his adversary, advancing,
retiring, feinting, watching for an opening. Crawley stood firm, with
his eyes fixed on those of his antagonist, merely turning sufficiently
to face him. At length Saurin, judging his distance, sent out his left
hand sharply, and caught Crawley on the right cheekbone. Crawley hit
back in return, but beat the air; Saurin was away. Again Saurin came
weaving in, and again he put a hit in without a return. The same thing
happened a third, a fourth, and a fifth time, and then Crawley, stung by
the blows, went at the other wildly, hitting right and left, but, over-
reaching himself, lost his balance and rolled over. The lookers on were
astonished; they had expected Saurin to be beaten from the first, and
though Crawley was so popular, murmurs of applause were heard, such is
the effect of success. Buller knelt on his left knee so that Crawley
might sit on his right. In the same manner Saurin sat on Edwards' knee.
Saurin's face had not been touched, while that of Crawley was flushed
and bleeding.
"You will not be able to touch his face just yet," said Buller. "Fight
at his body and try to hit him in the wind. And never mind what I said
yesterday about closing with him, we must risk his cross-buttock, and
your superior strength may serve you."
"Time! time!" cried the boys, and the antagonists jumped up from their
seconds' knees, and met again. Saurin had lost all his nervousness now;
his superiority was evident, and he felt nothing but triumph and
gratified malice. He did not stop to spar now, but directly he was
within reach hit out with confidence. Crawley took the blow without
flinching or attempting to parry it, and sent his right fist with all
his strength into Saurin's ribs, just as Buller had directed him.
Saurin recovered himself, and the round went on, Crawley being further
mauled about the face, neck, and head, but getting a hit in now on the
other's body, now a round right-hander on his side or the small of his
back. In the end they grappled, wrestled, and rolled over together, and
were then helped by their seconds to their respective corners. Saurin's
face was still untouched, but he puffed and panted for breath, and
seemed to feel the effect of the body blows.
"That is capital," said Buller to Crawley; "stick to that for the
present, he will soon begin to tire."
"Why, Buller, you seem to be quite up to this sort of thing!" said
Robarts in surprise.
"My elder brother went in for the Queensbury cups, and is always talking
about boxing and fighting: that's how I know," replied Buller quietly.
"And that is why you wished to be my second?" asked Crawley, who, though
his face was a pitiable object, was perfectly cool and self-possessed,
and not a bit blown or tired.
"Yes," replied Buller; and "Time!" was again called.
The mass of the spectators looked upon the fight as won by Saurin
already, and all the cheering was for him now. This opinion was further
strengthened presently, for Crawley, seeing his antagonist panting,
thought that at last he might get on equal terms with him, and rushed in
to fight at close quarters, but he was met by a straight blow from
Saurin's left fist right between the eyes, which knocked him fairly down
on the broad of his back, where he lay quite dazed for a moment, till
Robarts and Buller assisted him to his corner. The cheering and the
cries of "Bravo, Saurin!" "Well hit, Saurin!" were loud and long; many
thought that Crawley would not come up again. But though puffed about
both eyes, and with a considerably swollen nose, Crawley was soon all
right again, and as lively as when he began.
"If I only could mark him!" he said to his seconds. "It is so absurd to
see him with his face untouched."
"Wait a bit," replied Buller. "Keep on pegging at his body and
wrestling; I'll tell you when to go for his face. He is getting weaker
for all that hit last round."
This was true, for Saurin's blows, though they got home, had no longer
the force they had at first. In one round, after a severe struggle, he
threw Crawley heavily, but the exertion told more upon himself than upon
the one thrown. And he began to flinch from the body blows, and keep
his hands down. Loafing, beer-drinking, and smoking began to tell their
tale, in fact, and at last Buller said, "Now you may try to give him one
or two in the face."
They had been at it nearly half an hour, and Crawley, who had been
taking hard exercise daily and leading a healthy temperate life, was as
strong as when he first took his jacket off. He could hardly see out of
his right eye, and his face and neck were so bruised and tender that
every fresh blow he received gave him exquisite pain. But his wits were
quite clear, he had not lost his temper, and when down, in a few minutes
he was ready to stand up again. He easily warded off a nerveless blow
of his antagonist, returned it with one from his left hand on the body,
and then sent his right fist for the first time straight into Saurin's
face. Saurin got confused and turned half round; Crawley following up
his advantage, followed him up step by step round the ring, and at last
fairly fought him down amidst cheers from the boys, the tide of
popularity turning in his favour again.
"You have marked him now, and no mistake," said Buller to Crawley as he
sat on his knee. And there could be no doubt about that. The revulsion
of feeling Saurin had gone through was great. After establishing his
superiority, and feeling confident of an easy victory, to find his
adversary refuse so persistently to know when he was beaten! To see him
come up time after time to take more hammering without flinching was
like a nightmare. And he felt his own strength going from the sheer
exertion of hitting; and when he knocked Crawley down he hurt his left
hand, which it was painful to strike with afterwards. Again, the body
blows he received and thought little of at first began to make him feel
queer, and now, when the other took a decided lead, he lost his head and
got wild. For he was not thoroughly "game:" he had not got that
stubborn, somewhat sullen spirit of endurance which used to be so great
a characteristic of the English, and we will hope is not extinct yet,
for it would be sad indeed to think that it had passed away. A
brilliant act of daring with plenty of spectators and high hope of
success is one thing; but to stand at bay when all chance seems gone,
determined to die hard and never give in, is quite another. I like to
see a fellow spurting when he is distanced; catching his horse,
remounting, and going in pursuit after a bad fall; going back to his
books and reading harder than ever for another try directly the list has
come out without his name in it--never beaten, in short, until the last
remotest chance is over. That is the spirit which won at Agincourt, at
Waterloo, at Meeanee, at Dubba, at Lucknow, at Rorke's Drift. It was
this that Saurin was deficient in, and that would have now stood him in
such stead. Edwards was not the one to infuse any of it into him, for
he was as much dismayed by the effects of the last round as his friend
himself. Stubbs, indeed, tried to cheer him, inciting him to pull
himself together, spar for wind, and look out for a chance with his
sound right hand, but he was not a youth to carry influence with him.
In the next round Crawley closed with his adversary, who, when he at
last struggled loose, rolled ignominiously over on the ground, and in
point of beauty there was nothing to choose now between the visages of
the two combatants.
"I--I can't fight any more," said Saurin, as he was held up on Edwards'
knee, to which he had been dragged with some difficulty.
"Oh! have another go at him," urged Stubbs; "he is as bad as you are,
and you will be all right presently if you keep away a bit, and get down
the first blow. Just get your wind, and science must tell."
"But I'm so giddy, I--I can't stand," said Saurin.