"If you chose to be civil and back me up, it would be different," said
Crofter.
"But we are--we're going as steady as anything," said I.
"What do you mean by going to Pridgin and Wales and Tempest for _exeats_
and special leave instead of to me?" he demanded.
This was a point I was unprepared for. It was true that the
Philosophers, in their desire not to be interfered with by the new
captain, had made a point of applying, as they were entitled to do, to
any of the other prefects of the house in preference to Crofter for
_exeats_ and occasional leave to go without bounds. It had always been
considered the prerogative of the captain of the house to grant these;
but, strictly speaking, the other prefects had the right too. I tried
to explain as much.
"Of course," said he, "it is a very neat way of ignoring my authority.
I expect you to come to me. I shall not refuse any reasonable request,
but I'm not going to be insulted in my own house."
"But--" said I.
"There is no 'but' about it. If you want to prevent your being shown up
to your friend as an amiable young swindler, you can stop it by
undertaking that you and your lot will do what I tell you. If not, it
is your own look-out, that's all."
Luckily the school bell enabled me to get away without giving any
pledge. Fool as I was, I knew what all this meant. It was an attempt
to buy us all over at the cost of that unlucky shilling, and with it to
secure Crofter in the authority which he so dearly coveted, but so far
so imperfectly enjoyed.
The Philosophers, as might be expected, waxed very indignant when I made
a clean breast of the whole matter. With their usual frankness they
quite admitted that I might have pilfered the shilling. That sort of
thing, they remarked, was quite in my line, and in keeping with my
character generally; and they hoped to live to see me hung. But as to
caving in to Crofter as the cost of my shelter, they drew the line at
that. He had no right to impose new rules, or take away the immemorial
privileges of the "Sharpers." Besides, if they gave in on this point,
they would immediately have to go and ask his leave to practise for the
Sports in Callow Meadow, which was just out of bounds, and where, in
strict seclusion, diligent practice had been going on for a week, with
most promising results.
I was thereupon ordered to write a laconic rejoinder to the tempting
offer, the Philosophers promising to back me up in the matter of the
shilling and see me through it.
With a heavy heart, therefore, I sat down and penned the following brief
epistle, which was approved by the faggery and ordered to be laid on
Crofter's table before bed-time.
"Dear Crofter,--We all think it's not good enough. It's all a lie about
the shilling. Yours sincerely, T.J. iv."
Some of the Philosophers demurred to the sentence about the shilling,
which appeared to commit them to an opinion they did not hold. But I
had my way for once, and retired to bed, when all was done, wondering
whenever peace would come, and I and my friend should rejoice to see one
another again as of old.
I do not know how soon I fell asleep. It must have been pretty soon;
for I can remember seeing Crofter come into the dormitory and turn out
the gas; and I can remember in the general stillness hearing voices and
the noise of poking the fire in Mr Sharpe's room downstairs. After
that I forgot everything, until suddenly I discovered myself awake
again.
Things seemed strange as I slowly turned my head on the pillow and
blinked up with half-opened eyes. The dormitory seemed hot and stuffy;
somebody or something was making a noise, and I wished they would stop.
I could see nothing, except the hazy outline of my shirt hanging on the
back of the chair, and even that seemed to come and go as I watched it.
I was indisposed to move, and my mind was half asleep still. The one
thing I did long for was for the noise to stop and some one to open a
window. It was simply choking; I could hardly breathe, and--
Suddenly my shirt seemed to turn red, and by the lurid light it emitted
I could see smoke coming over the top of the door. Then the side of the
room grew red too, and seemed to close in on me, getting redder and
redder as it did so, till finally by a frantic effort I raised myself in
my bed and yelled--
"Fire!"
The answer was a great volume of smoke, which leapt out at me like a
savage beast and sent me back on to the pillow; a deafening roar
outside, and a sudden blaze, which half-blinded me and stifled the cry
that was on my lips.
That is all I can remember distinctly. I was vaguely conscious of
hearing my name called, of seeing my door move, of everything whirling
round and round, and finally of falling, or getting, or being dragged
out of bed.
The next thing I was aware of was that I was lying in a strange bed,
with a headache, but otherwise tolerably comfortable, though awfully
thirsty, and as weak as a mouse.
"Water, please," I remarked at large.
Instantly a face bent over me--a strangely familiar face, which after a
moment's reflection I told myself was my mother's.
It was such a surprise that I forgot about the water, and took a nap
instead.
In due time I must have woke again, this time by candlelight.
"Mother, are you there?"
"Yes, darling; what is it?"
"My shirt caught fire, and--"
"Hush, dear. Don't try to talk."
I didn't quite see why. I was really curious about several things. In
fact, I thirsted for information.
"Why mayn't I talk, mother?"
"Because you've been ill."
"Did I get doctor's leave?"
"Yes, dear."
"Mother?"
"Well, sonny darling."
"How did you get here?"
"They sent and told me you--"
"You didn't believe about that shilling? Really there was only 2
shillings 6 pence change."
"Yes, yes, dear. Hush now, there's a good boy."
"Mother?"
"Well, Tommy dear."
"Was there a fire last night?"
"It was a week ago, sonny."
"Who was the fellow called me? Was he riled at me for not answering?"
"Oh no--you were almost suffocated."
"Where shall I sleep now? Have they mended my cubicle?"
"You'll sleep here, dear. All the boys are over here."
"Was all the dormitory on fire, then?"
"Yes; but thank God every one was saved."
"Is Langrish all right?"
"Oh yes, all of them are."
"Will he be game for the High Jump?"
"Surely, surely--but you're talking too much, sonny."
"Mother?"
"What is it, darling?"
"Does Tempest know I've been ill?"
"Yes," and her eyes seemed to fill with tears as she bent over me.
"Will you tell him about the shilling?"
"Yes, if you like."
"Mother, why are you crying? Is Tempest ill too?"
"No, dear--but--"
"Tell us, mother."
"If it had not been for Tempest," said she, "I should have had no boy
to-day."
"Did he get me out, then?" said I, getting thoroughly aroused.
"Yes, Heaven bless him for it!" she replied, kissing my forehead.
"That'll be a score for him," said I; "I'm so glad."
My mother evidently did not quite understand this point of view, and
concluded I had been talking more than was good for me, and once more
implored me to be silent.
But I had no notion of giving up my inquiries at this stage.
"Did he get hurt doing it?" I asked.
"Only his hand a little."
"How did he get at me?"
"Every one thought you were safe out of the burning room with the
others. When it was found you were not, Tempest rushed back before any
one could stop him, and carried you out. He had not got outside with
you more than a second or two when the roof and staircase and all fell
in."
Here she shuddered as once more she bent over me and kissed me.
This was all I wanted to hear at present, and I closed my eyes in order
to think it over the better.
My chief sensation was one of exultation that Tempest should risk his
life for me. It meant that I had won him back in spite of myself. Then
when I recalled the frightful blaze and noise of that night, I began to
realise what my rescue must have meant to any one. No one but a fellow
utterly scornful of danger, and utterly determined to save a life in
peril at all cost, could have ventured into that place. _He_ would have
done it for any one, I knew; but to come deliberately after me, who had
ruined his chances last term, and whom he despised as a pilferer and a
sneak--this was an act of heroism which it baffled me to contemplate,
and in the contemplation of which consequently I succumbed once more to
sleep and forgot everything.
As I slowly got better (and, after all, I was not much damaged, as soon
as I had got over the effects of the suffocation and terror of that
awful night) I heard more about the fire. Permission was given me to
see one friend a day for ten minutes at a time, and the reader may
imagine the wild excitement of those ten minutes.
I naturally called for Dicky Brown as my first man. He came, looking
rather scared, and was evidently relieved to find I was something better
than a mass of burns, and able to do my share in the conversation.
"It was a close shave for you, I can tell you," he said. "All the other
fellows hopped out long before the fire got bad, and no one fancied you
weren't out too. You must have been sleeping jolly sound. All of a
sudden one of your lot yelled out that you were missing. It was so hot
then the fellows were all standing back, but old Tempest, almost before
the chap had shouted, nipped into the middle of it, and made a dash for
your cubicle. My word! I wish I'd been there to see it! You were as
good as done for when he collared you and hauled you out. He fell with
you half-way down the stairs, but Sharpe and Pridgin and one or two
others caught him and fished him out with you over his shoulder. He
swears he's not damaged, but he's got his hand in a sling. I say, old
chap, it's no use blubbing; it's all right how."
"I wasn't blubbing," said I. "When you've got a cold in your head your
eyes water sometimes, don't they?"
"Rather, buckets," said the magnanimous Dicky.
Langrish was my next interviewer; and his account as an eye-witness was
graphic, and not calculated entirely to cure my "cold in the head."
"You see, it's this way," said he. "Jarman was smoking in Sharpe's
room, and chucked his cigar into the waste-paper basket or somewhere by
mistake, and while he and Sharpe toddled across the quad, the thing
flared up and went up the curtains, and when old Sharpe came back the
whole place was in a blaze. I twigged it pretty sharp, and so did Trim,
and there was a regular stampede. No one ever supposed you'd go snoring
all through it. Crofter and Wales were first outside, looking as white
as milk. Bless you, it was such a rush and shindy, no one could see
anybody. Of course we made sure you were all serene. Think of you
sleeping through it!"
"I was in the end cubicle, you see," said I.
"For all that, you might have stuck your head out to see what the fun
was about," said Langrish, in rather an aggrieved tone. "Sharpe turned
up presently, with his face all grimy with smoke, and yelled, 'Is every
one here?' 'Yes,' said Crofter--silly ass, how could he tell? Then
Coxhead said to me, 'Where's Sarah got to?' That made me look round,
and I can tell you I was pretty sick when I couldn't see you. Just
fancy a chap sleeping away through it all! Why, the ant and the
sluggard," said Langrish, getting a little mixed in his proverbs,
"weren't in it with you. So I yelled 'Sarah!' with all my might. You
should have seen the chaps sit up when they heard your name. Then old
Tempest, with his mouth shut and looking middling pasty about the face,
broke through the scrimmage and sent us right and left, and made a
regular header into the place. Sharpe yelled to him to come back; some
tried to yell, but couldn't for lumps in their throats, and we all
closed up. I can tell you it was a hot place. The smoke rolled out and
got in our eyes, and the wood and stuff cracked and blazed, and sounded
like the waves at Dover. We never expected to see him or you come back.
The stairs were going to bits as fast as they could, and great bits of
burning wood were tumbling off the roof. Then the smoke shifted
somehow, and we heard Sharpe yell, 'Heavens!' Then there was a dull row
like something tumbling, and Pridgin and Sharpe dashed in. We got kept
back, or we'd have given you a leg-up too. Then you strolled in, fast
asleep still--I never saw such a snoozer!--on Tempest's arm. He was
pretty well done, and couldn't have pulled it off if Sharpe and Pridgin
hadn't hiked him out. Even then he couldn't stand. So I hope you're
jolly well pleased with yourself. I hope it will be a lesson to you,
young Sarah, to keep one eye open while you're asleep. We were jolly
glad you got canted out, though you _are_ a bit of a mule. But it would
have been rough on you to miss the Sports. They say Tempest's burned
his hand pretty bad, but he means to have a shot at the Mile. I say,
Redwood was asking after you. Jarman's jolly sick that it was his fault
about the fire. He's been quite civil, and been to ask about you every
day. Look sharp and get right, I say, or it'll rot the Sports if you
don't. Hullo, there comes your _mater_. Ta, ta, old hoss. It's rather
ripping you scraped through all right."
He was a good sort, Langrish. He did not tell me, what I heard later,
that at the time of the fire he had to be held back by main force from
following Tempest in quest of me; and that he had rather a "cold in his
head" when he saw me hauled out safe and sound.