Among the few Willoughbites who took no interest at all in the juniors'
match was Gilks.
It was hardly to be wondered at that he, a schoolhouse boy, should not
concern himself much about a contest between the fags of Welch's and
Parrett's. And yet, if truth were known, it would have been just the
same had the match been the greatest event of the season, for Gilks,
from some cause or other, was in no condition to care about anything.
He wandered about listlessly that afternoon, avoiding the crowded Big,
and bending his steps rather to the unfrequented meadows by the river.
What he was thinking about as he paced along none of the very few boys
who met him that afternoon could guess, but that it was nothing pleasant
was very evident.
At the beginning of this very term Gilks had been one of the noisiest
and liveliest fellows in Willoughby. Although his principles had never
been lofty, his spirits always used to be excellent, and those who knew
him best could scarcely recognise now in the anxious, spiritless monitor
the companion whose shout and laugh had been so familiar only a few
months ago.
Among those who met him this afternoon was Wibberly. Wibberly, like
Gilks, felt very little interest in the juniors' match. He was one of
the small party who yesterday had come in for such a smart snubbing from
Bloomfield, and the only way to show his sense of the ingratitude of
such treatment, especially towards an old toady like himself, was to
profess no interest in an event which was notoriously interesting the
Parretts' captain.
So Wibberly strolled down that afternoon to the river, and naturally met
Gilks.
The two were not by any means chums--indeed, they were scarcely to be
called friends. But they had one considerable bond of sympathy in a
common dislike for the schoolhouse, and still more for Riddell. Gilks,
as the reader knows, was anything but a loyal schoolhouse man, and ever
since he became a monitor had cast in his lot with the rival house. So
that he was generally considered, and considered himself to be, quite as
much of a Parrett as a "schoolhouser."
"So you are not down looking at the little boys?" said Wibberly.
"No," said Gilks.
"Awful rot," said Wibberly, "making all that fuss about them!"
"Pleases them and doesn't hurt us," replied Gilks.
"In my opinion it's all a bit of vanity on the part of Riddell. He'd
like to make every one think he has been coaching his kids, and this is
just a show-off."
"Well, let him show off; who cares?" growled Gilks.
"All very well. He ought to be hooted round the school instead of
flashing it there in the Big, the hypocritical cad!"
"Well, why don't you go and do it?" said Gilks; "you'd get plenty to
join you."
"Would I? No, I wouldn't. Even Bloomfield's taking his part--he's
gammoned him somehow."
"Well, that doesn't prevent your going and hooting him, does it?" said
Gilks, with a sneer. "You've a right to enjoy yourself as well as any
one else."
"What! have you come round to worship his holiness too?" asked Wibberly,
who had at least expected some sympathy from Gilks.
"Not exactly!" said Gilks, bitterly; "but I've come round to letting the
cad alone. What's the good of bothering?"
"And you mean to say you'd let him go on knowing who the fellow is who
cut the rudder-lines of our boat, and not make him say who it is?"
"I expect that's all stuff about his knowing at all," said Gilks.
"Not it! Between you and me, I fancy he's had a tip from somewhere."
"He has? Bah! don't you believe it. He'd like to make believe he knows
all about it. It would pay, you know."
"But every one thinks he knows."
"Not he! He would have told the fellow's name long ago. Whatever
object would he have in keeping it back?"
"Oh! I don't know. He says some gammon about not being quite sure.
But he's had time enough to be sure by now."
Gilks walked on in silence for a little, and then inquired, "And suppose
you did get to know who it was, what would be the use?"
"The use!" exclaimed Wibberly, in amazement. "Why, what do you mean?
By Jove, I'm sorry for the fellow when he turns up. He'll soon find out
the use of it."
Gilks said nothing, but walked on evidently out of humour, and Wibberly
having nothing better to do accompanied him.
"By the way," said the latter, presently, seeing his companion was not
disposed to continue the former conversation, "what's up between you and
Silk? Is it true you've had a row?"
Gilks growled out something which sounded very like an oath, and
replied, "Yes."
"What about?" inquired the inquisitive Wibberly, who seemed to have the
knack of hitting upon unwelcome topics.
"It wouldn't do you any good to know," growled Gilks.
"I heard it was some betting row, or something of that sort," said
Wibberly.
"Eh?--yes--something of that sort," said Gilks.
"Well," said Wibberly, "I never cared much for Silk. He always seemed
to know a little too much for me. I wouldn't break my heart if I were
you."
"I don't mean to," said Gilks, but in a tone which belied the words, and
even struck Wibberly by its wretchedness.
"I say," said he, "you're awfully down in the mouth these times. What's
wrong?"
"What makes you think anything's wrong? I'm all right, I tell you,"
said Gilks, half angrily.
Wibberly was half inclined to say that he would not have thought it if
he had not been told so, but judging from his companion's looks that
this little pleasantry would not be appreciated, he forbore and walked
on in silence.
It was a relief when Wibberly at length discovered that it was time for
him to be going back. Gilks wanted nobody's company, and was glad to be
left alone.
And yet he would gladly have escaped even from his own company, which to
judge by his miserable looks as he walked on alone was less pleasant
than any.
He was sorry now he had not gone to watch the juniors, where at least he
would have heard something less hateful than his own thoughts, and seen
something less hateful than the dreary creations of his own troubled
imagination.
"What's the use of keeping it up?" said he, bitterly, to himself. "I
don't care! Things can't be worse than they are. Down in the mouth!
He'd be down in the mouth if he were!--the fool! I've a good mind to--
And yet I daren't face it. What's the use of trusting to a fellow like
Silk! Bah! how I hate him. He'll betray me as soon as ever it suits
him, and--and--oh, I don't care. Let him!"
Gilks had reached this dismal climax in his reflections, when he
suddenly became aware that the object of his meditations was approaching
him.
Silk had his own reasons for not joining the throng that was looking on
at the juniors' match. It may have been mere lack of interest, or it
may have been a special desire to take this walk. Whichever it was, his
presence now was about as unwelcome an apparition as Gilks could have
encountered, and the smile on the intruder's face showed pretty clearly
that he was aware of the fact.
"What are you prowling about here for?" said he as he came up, with all
the insolence of a warder addressing a convict.
"I've a right to walk here if I choose," replied Gilks, sulkily; "what
are you here for?"
"To find you. I want to speak to you," replied Silk.
"I don't want to speak to you," replied Gilks, moving on.
"Don't you?" replied Silk, with a sneer. "You'll have to do it whether
you want or not, my boy."
There was something about the Welcher which had the effect of cowing his
companion, and Gilks, fuming inwardly, and with a face as black as
thunder, said, "Well--say what you've got to say, and be done with it."
Silk laughed.
"Thank you. I'll take my time, not yours. Which way are you going?"
"No way at all," said Gilks, standing still.
"Very well. I'm going this way. Come with me."
And he began to walk on, Gilks sullenly following.
"You saw Wyndham the other day?" said Silk.
"Suppose I did?"
"What did he want?"
"I don't know--some foolery or other. I didn't listen to him."
"You needn't tell lies. What did he want, I say?"
"How should I know?" retorted Gilks.
"What did he want? do you hear?" repeated the other.
"He wanted me to let him blab about something--about Beamish's it was."
"And did you tell him he might?"
"Yes. I said he might blab about me too for all I cared. And so he
may. I wish to goodness he would."
"And whatever business had you to tell him he might say a word about
it?" demanded Silk, angrily.
"What business? A good deal more business than you've got to ask me
questions."
"Do you know what he's done?"
"No, I don't; and I don't care."
"Don't you care?" snarled Silk, fast losing his temper; "that foolery of
yours has spoiled everything."
"So much the better. _I_ don't care."
"But _I_ care!" exclaimed Silk, furiously, "and I'll see you care too,
you fool!"
"What's happened, then?" asked Gilks.
"Why, Riddell--"
"For goodness' sake don't start on him!" cried Gilks, viciously; "he's
nothing to do with it."
"Hasn't he? That's all you know, you blockhead! He suspected Wyndham
of that boat-race business. I can't make out how, but he did. And the
young fool all along thought it was Beamish's he was in a row about.
But Riddell wouldn't have known it to this day if you hadn't given the
young idiot leave to go and blab, and so clear it up."
"Let him blab. I wish he'd clear up everything," growled, or rather
groaned, Gilks.
"Look here!" said Silk, stopping short in his walk and rounding on his
victim. "I've had quite enough of this, and you'd better shut up. You
know I could make you sorry for it if I chose."
Gilks said nothing, but walked on sullenly.
"And the worse thing about it," continued Silk, "is that now Wyndham and
Riddell are as thick as brothers, and the young toady's sure to tell him
everything."
"And suppose he does?"
"There's no suppose about it. I don't choose to have it, I tell you."
"How can you help it?" said Gilks.
"We must get hold of the young 'un again," said Silk, "and you'll have
to manage it."
"Who?--I?" said Gilks, with a bitter laugh.
"Yes, you. And don't talk so loud, do you hear? You'll have to manage
it, and I think I can put you up to a way for getting hold of him."
"You can spare yourself the trouble," said Gilks, stopping short and
folding his arms doggedly. "I won't do it."
"What!" cried Silk, in a passion.
It was the second time in one week that Silk had been thus defied--each
time by a boy whom he had imagined to be completely in his power.
Wyndham's mutiny had not wholly surprised him, but from Gilks he had
never expected it.
"I won't do it, there!" said Gilks, now fairly at bay and determined
enough.
Silk glared at him for a moment, then laughed scornfully.
"You won't? You know what you are saying?"
"Yes, I know," said Gilks.
"And you know what I shall do?"
"Yes, you'll tell--"
Silk's face fell. He was beginning to discover that once more he had
overdone his part, and that the ground was taken from under him. But he
made one last effort to recover himself.
"I say, Gilks," said he, half coaxing, half warning, "don't be a fool.
Don't ruin yourself. I didn't mean to be offensive. You know it's as
much in your interest as mine. If we can get hold of young Wyndham
again--"
"If you want him, get him yourself, I'm not going to do it," once more
said Gilks, with pale face and clenched teeth.
Silk's manner changed once more. His face became livid, and his eyes
flashed, as he sprang at Gilks, and with a sudden blow, exclaimed, "Take
that, then!"
It was as good as proclaiming that the game was over. As Gilks's guilty
confidant he had retained to the last some sort of influence; but now,
with that blow, the last shred of his superiority had gone, and he stood
there beaten before ever the fight began.
Gilks had expected the blow, but had not been prepared for its
suddenness. It struck him full on the cheek, and for a moment staggered
him--but only for a moment. Wasting no words, he returned it
vehemently, and next moment the fight had begun.
That fight was not the growth of a day or a week. For many weeks it had
been getting nearer and nearer, sometimes by rapid strides, sometimes by
imperceptible steps; but always getting nearer, until now it had
suddenly reached its climax; and the cry, "A fight--Gilks and Silk!"
spread like wildfire over Willoughby.
The Welchers, in the heyday of their triumph, heard it above even the
chorus of the glorious Bouncer; and hearing it, forsook their revelry
and hurried towards it. The Parretts quitted their melancholy teapot,
and rushed with one accord to the spot. And ere they reached it Telson
was there, and many a schoolhouse Limpet, and Game, and Ashley, and
Wibberly, from Parrett's; and Tucker, and I know not what crowds from
Welch's. And they crowded round, and took sides, and speculated on the
result, and cheered impartially every hit.
Far be it from me to describe that fight. It was no different from
twenty other fights that same term, except from the one fact that the
combatants were seniors. No one cared an atom about the quarrels or its
merits. It was quite enough that it was an even match--that there was
plenty of straight hitting and smart parrying, and that it lasted over a
quarter of an hour.
It was a wonder it lasted so long. Not that the men could not stay, but
because no monitor with power to stop it appeared on the scene. Indeed,
the only monitor present was Gilks himself, and he took no steps to end
the conflict.
At length, however, while the result was still undecided, a cry of
"_Cave_!" was raised.
"Look out, here's Riddell!" cried some small boy.
A round was just beginning, and neither combatant evinced any desire to
desist on account of the captain's approach.
Riddell was not alone, Fairbairn was with him, and, being naturally
attracted by the crowd and shouting, they both hurried up in time to see
the end of the round.
As soon as it was over they pushed their way in among the crowd and
entered the ring.
"Stop the fight!" said Riddell.
The two combatants glared at him angrily, and Gilks replied, "Who says
so?"
"I say so," said Riddell, quietly.
The days were long gone by when the captain issued his orders in an
apologetic voice and a diffident manner. He had learned enough during
this term to discover the value of a little self-confidence, and had
profited by the discovery. Willoughby was far more docile to an order
than to a request, and on the present occasion neither Gilks nor Silk
seemed disposed to argue the matter.
They put on their jackets sulkily, and, without further words to one
another or to the monitors, betook their battered selves to their
several quarters.
Willoughby, perceiving that the matter was at an end, also dispersed and
returned to its several quarters. The Welchers resumed their
interrupted revel with unabated rejoicing; the melancholy Parretts
called for more hot water to eke out the consolations of their teapot;
the Limpets turned in again to their preparation, and the seniors to
their studies--every one criticising the fight, and wondering how it
would have ended, but scarcely one troubling himself much about its
merit, and less still about its consequences.
One of these consequences the principals in the engagement were not long
in learning. A message arrived for each, before the evening was over,
that they were reported to the doctor, and were to go to his room at
nine next morning.
Silk did not get the message till late, as he had been absent most of
the evening in Tucker's study, who was an expert at repairing the damage
incurred in a pugilistic encounter.
When about bedtime he returned to his own study and found the captain's
note lying on the table, he broke out into a state of fury which, to say
the least of it, it was well there was no one at hand to witness.
Late as the hour was, he went at once to Riddell's study.
Riddell was half-undressed as his visitor entered. "What do you want?"
he inquired.
"I want you! Do you mean to say you've reported me to the doctor?"
"Of course. It was a fight. I'm bound to report it."
"_Bound_ to report it. You snivelling humbug! Have you sent the name
up yet?"
"Why do you want to know?" said Riddell, who had ceased to be in bodily
fear of Silk for some time past.
"Because I want to know. Have you sent it up?"
"I have."
"All right, you'll be sorry for it," said Silk.
"I _am_ sorry for it," replied the captain.
Silk saw at a glance that the captain was not to be bullied, and changed
his tone.
"I suppose you know," said he, "we shall both be expelled?"
"The doctor doesn't usually expel for fighting," said the captain.
"Of course not. But you remember getting a note from me a little time
ago."
"From you? No; I never had a note from you."
"What, not one telling you to go down and see Tom the boat-boy?"
"Was that from you?" exclaimed Riddell, in astonishment.
"Of course it was. And of course you know now what I mean."
"I don't. I could discover nothing," said the captain.
"You mean to say you don't know who cut the rudder-lines?"
"No; who?"
"Gilks!"