I was at first too much concerned in my important culinary occupations
to bestow much attention on the company. It was only when the eggs were
boiled and the teapot filled that I had leisure to make a few
observations.
The host, Pridgin, my new master, was not a very formidable sort of
person at first blush. True he was in the Eleven and a fine all-round
athlete. True he was fairly well up in the Sixth, and one of the boys
Low Heath was proud of. These things did not strike one in beholding
him. What did strike one was his air of lazy humour, which seemed to
regard life as a huge joke, if only one could summon up the energy to
enjoy it. Pridgin did indeed enjoy his share of it, but one could not
help feeling that, were he to choose, that share would be a great deal
larger than it really was.
It was plain to see he was fond of Tempest; a weakness which reconciled
me to him from the first. Tempest, however, seemed, if anything, to
prefer the third member of the party present, who was in every way a
contrast to his genial host.
Wales struck one as a far more imposing person than Pridgin, but not
quite as attractive. He was dressed in what seemed to me the top of the
fashion, and had the appearance of a youth who made a point of having
everything of the best. He had the reputation, as I discovered
afterwards, of possessing the most expensive bats and racquets, the
best-bound books, the best-fitting clothes, of any one in Low Heath. It
was also rumoured that he spent more than any boy in the town shops, and
gave the most extravagant entertainments in his study. Fellows were a
little shy of him for this very reason. He forced the pace in the
matter of money, and there were only a few fellows who could stand it.
Tempest was not one of these, and yet he seemed very thick with Wales.
It was certainly not for the sake of his money, for Tempest was one of
those fellows who never care for a fellow for the same reason that any
one else would. He had begun by being amused with Wales's dandyism and
extravagance, and had ended in encouraging him in them.
"I expect," said Wales, as the three heroes sat discussing their tea,
"we're in for a pretty lively term, if it's true what I hear, that
Redwood is to be captain."
"Why shouldn't he be?" asked Pridgin; "he's a hot man in the fields, as
well as in classics."
"My dear fellow, he's a town-boy."
"What of that?"
"What of that? First of all, the town-boys are most of them snobs.
Sons of hard-up people who come to live at Low Heath so as to get them
into the school cheap. Then they can't possibly keep up with what goes
on in school when they are away every evening."
"There's more in the second objection than the first," said Tempest. "I
don't see why a fellow should be out of it because he's poor. If so, I
can cut my lucky here. But it does seem a swindle to stick a town-boy
over all of us."
"I don't see it," said Pridgin. "He's one of us. The only difference
is, he goes home to sleep instead of tucking up in a cubicle here. No,
what seems to me the cool thing is this talk of a town-boys' club, that
brags it's going to lick the school clubs into fits. I hope it's not
true, for if it is, we shall have to sit up, and I loathe sitting up."
His guests laughed. It was notorious that Pridgin when he did bring
himself to "sit up" was a person worth reckoning with.
"For the matter of that," said Wales, "Redwood's not likely to trouble
himself much. He'll take all the glory and do none of the work. The
captain of Low Heath ought to have his hand in everything, and not let
everything slide."
"You'll find Redwood can be awkward enough when he chooses. You can
never tell how far he'll let things go on. But when his back once gets
up he'll stiffen pretty hard."
"All I can say is," said Tempest, "if I'm to be cock of this house this
term--and I've no right to be--"
"Yes, you have, old chap," said Pridgin.
"You know you purposely ran for second place last term, so as to get out
of the fag of cocking the house," retorted his friend. "Anyhow, if I
_am_ to be cock, I mean to stand up for our rights, and see we're not
done out of them by town-boys, of all people."
"Hear, hear," said Pridgin; "stick up for your rights. I don't exactly
know what rights we're got more than any other Low Heathens, but stick
up for them certainly. Nothing like having a grievance, if you can only
find one."
"What do you say to Jarman for one?" said Wales.
The faces of all three clouded at the mention of this name.
"Ah, I'd forgotten about that. Is it true he's to be a sort of general
discipline master, and have the right of pulling up any fellow, senior
or junior, without even saying a word to his house prefects?"
"He won't do it here, if I can help," said Tempest, with a frown.
"Well, have some more tea," said Pridgin, "before you begin operations.
Here, kid, make a fresh brew, sharp, and then cut."
What I had heard had been quite enough to satisfy me that things were
not running altogether smoothly at Low Heath, and that Tempest was not
beginning his new duties as head of his house in the best of tempers. I
confess I felt a little uneasy. For I knew my old chief's impulsive,
generous nature well enough to be sure that he might easily get himself
into trouble for the sake of other people. His friends were evidently
glad enough to let him fight their battles, but were not likely, at
least so it seemed to me, to take much trouble to help him through with
them.
I was wandering rather disconsolately down the passage when it occurred
to me I did not know what I was expected to do or where I was expected
to go.
I therefore ventured to accost a senior who was lounging about at the
head of the stairs.
"If you please," said I, "I'm a new boy--can you tell me where to go?"
The senior, a bland, good-looking sort of youth, surveyed me carefully
and replied--
"To bed, I should say."
"All right, thanks," said I; "which way is that?"
He laughed pleasantly.
"What's your name?"
"Thomas Jones."
"You needn't mind about the Thomas up here. Where have you come from?"
"Do you mean, where do I live, or where have I been just now?" I
inquired, anxious to avoid any misunderstanding.
"Look here," said he, "hadn't you better take a seat, if you want to
tell me all your family history? I'm sure it's very interesting, but
it's rather late in the day to begin now. Where have you come from, not
originally, but just now?"
I flushed up very much at this polite rebuke. Whatever made every one
so anxious to assume that I was an ass?
"Pridgin's," said I. "I'm his fag, and he's having a tea party."
"Oh," said the youth; "who's there?"
"Only Tempest and Wales," I replied, feeling more at my ease.
"No one else?"
"No," I answered. Then, guessing he might have the same antipathies as
Tempest, I volunteered--
"Crofter's not asked."