It is not to be wondered at if the proceedings at the remarkable
masters' session just reported leaked out somehow, and became the talk
of Grandcourt. It was rarely that anything the masters did or said in
their solemn conclaves made much impression on the complacency of their
boys; but on the present occasion it was other wise.
Rumour had already been active as to the feud between Mr Bickers and
the Master of the Shell, and not a few of the better-informed boys had
heard that it was connected with the outrage last term, and that Mr
Bickers's intention was to bring that crime home, in some manner best
known to himself, to Mr Railsford.
The idea was generally pooh-poohed as a piece of vindictive folly. For
all that, there was a good deal of speculation as to the proceedings at
the masters' session, and, when it was over, curiosity to learn the
result. The hurried summons to the doctor during the evening had not
passed unnoted; the general opinion was that the "row" had come suddenly
and acutely to a head.
When two superior officers fly at one another's throats the spectacle
may be interesting, and even amusing, to the onlooker; but I never heard
of it doing anything towards the promotion of discipline or the
encouragement of good tone among the rank and file. The quarrel of the
two masters at Grandcourt certainly failed to do any good to the school,
and if it did less mischief than might have been expected, it was
because up till now the parties principally concerned had had their own
reasons for keeping it private.
Felgate was naturally anxious to hear the result of an entertainment to
which he had, as he imagined, made so valuable a contribution. He
therefore ventured to call on Mr Bickers the following morning for a
little friendly chat.
His reception did not quite come up to his expectations.
"So, sir," exclaimed Mr Bickers, meeting him at the door, "you have
thought me a fitting subject for one of your jokes, have you? What have
you to say for yourself?"
Felgate looked at him in amazement.
"I really don't understand," said he. "What joke?"
"You wish to keep it up, do you? Very well, sir!" and Mr Bickers took
down a cane. "You have thought fit to amuse yourself at my expense,"
said Mr Bickers. "I intend to repay myself at yours! Hold out your
hand!"
"You are not going to punish me for--"
"Hold out your hand, sir!"
"Really, I acted for the best. If it was a mistake, I--"
"Do you hear me, sir? Hold out your hand at once!"
Felgate sullenly obeyed, and Mr Bickers there and then discharged his
little debt, adding interest.
"Now go away, and don't dare to come near me again! Stay, take with you
these tokens of your ill-timed humour; they may serve to amuse someone
else. Begone!" and he thrust into his hands the unlucky parcel and
closed the door in his face.
Felgate, smarting and bewildered, walked back to his house with the
parcel under his arm, furious with Mr Bickers, and as eager now for
revenge on him as yesterday he had been for revenge on Railsford.
What could have happened to make all his carefully laid scheme fall
through, and set Mr Bickers, whom he had counted upon as an ally, thus
suddenly against him? Had Railsford met him with some counter-charge,
or turned the tables by some unexpected move in the face of his
accusers?
That could not be, for already the rumour had spread through the house
that Mr Railsford had resigned his post.
What did Mr Bickers mean by talking of a joke, and thrusting back upon
him the very proofs which but yesterday had been objects of such anxious
care and solicitude to them both?
Felgate flung the unlucky parcel down on the table, and called himself a
fool for ever having meddled with it.
Was it possible he himself had been made a fool of, and that these
precious proofs had after all been trumped up by that young scapegrace,
Herapath, to hoodwink him?
At any rate, Arthur might have his property back now, and much good
might it do him. He should--
Felgate started as he suddenly caught sight of what looked like a blade
of grass protruding from a rent in the brown paper.
He looked again. It was not one blade only, but two or three. With an
exclamation of consternation he tore off the covering and disclosed--the
turf!
A joke? No wonder Mr Bickers's manner had been a trifle stiff that
morning.
However had it got there? It was like a conjurer's trick. No one had
seen or touched the parcel but himself. He had himself placed it in Mr
Bickers's hands. Indeed, from the time he had taken the things from
Herapath's cupboard till the moment of parting with them, he had
scarcely had his eyes off it.
Stay! That evening he was at the Forum, he had left it for an hour
unguardedly in his room. Yet, even then, he could almost have sworn the
parcel had been untouched in his absence. Besides, the letter was there
still, directed in his own hand.
He picked up the envelope, to satisfy himself it was the same. Of
course it was; and he had explained in his letter what the articles
were.
He took out the letter and glanced at it; and as he did so the blood
rushed to his face, and he knew at last that he had been made a fool of.
It needed no great penetration to guess who it was to whom he owed his
humiliation. So he armed himself with a ruler in one hand and the
parcel in the other, and walked over to Herapath's study.
The proprietors were at home, and had apparently expected the visit, for
an elaborate barricade had been drawn across the door by means of the
table, bedstead, and other furniture, so that Felgate, when he looked
in, could barely see more than the heads of his young friends.
"Let me in," he said, trying to push the door open.
"Awfully sorry; can't come in," said Dig cheerfully. "Herapath and I
are having a scrub up. Come again presently."
"Do you hear me, you two? Let me in at once."
"Don't you hear, we're doing the place up?" said Arthur. "Go to some of
the other chaps if you want a job done."
"I want you two; and if you don't let me in at once, I'll force my way
in."
"Say what you want there; we can hear," said Arthur.
Felgate made a violent effort to effect an entrance, but without avail.
The stout iron bedsteads held their own, and the wedge inserted under
the door prevented it from opening farther than to allow the invader's
head to peep in.
"I shall report you for this," said Felgate.
"Ha! ha! ha! you're not a monitor, my boy. Go and do it. We'll report
you for invading our privacy. Say what you want there, can't you?"
"You know what I want well enough," said Felgate, forced at last to
recognise that entrance was hopeless.
"What's the good of coming to tell us, then?" responded Dig.
"What business had you to go to my room the other evening?"
"Went to return your call," said Arthur. "Sorry we weren't at home when
you called on us, and thought we'd do the polite and look you up. That
makes us square, doesn't it?"
"Do you know I could get you expelled for coming and taking things out
of my room?" said Felgate.
"Ha! ha! Do it! look sharp. We'll all go home together."
"I want the things you took away; do you hear? One of the masters has
sent for them; they are to be given up immediately."
"Are they? Tell one of the masters, if he wants them he'd better go up
the chimney after them."
"I shan't waste my time here any more. You'll be sorry for it, both of
you, when I catch you."
"All right, wait till then. I say, you haven't seen a lump of turf
about, have you? There's one missing."
"Ha! ha!" chimed in Dig. "How did you like the writing of the letter?
Jolly hand our chaps write in the Shell, don't they?"
Felgate had not remained to hear these last two genial inquiries, but
had returned, storming and raving, to his room.
The only game left him now was revenge. He would be very much surprised
if that did not come off a little better than the last!
Arthur and Dig, meanwhile, were by no means in the elated spirits which
their successful resistance to the siege might have warranted. Not that
they were affected by the bully's retreating threat; they had heard that
sort of thing from one or two fellows in their day, and their bones were
still unbroken.
No; what afflicted them, and plunged them into a sea of wrath and
misery, was the report circulated that morning and confirmed by reliable
testimony, that Marky was going to leave Grandcourt.
At first they could not credit it. But when Ainger himself, with a long
face, confirmed it, they were forced to believe their ears.
"Why?" they asked.
But Ainger had nothing to tell them on that score.
They therefore took the bold step of waiting upon the Master of the
Shell himself.
"Marky," said Arthur, "it's not true you're leaving, is it?"
The misery of the boy's tone went to Railsford's heart.
"I am afraid it is true, Arthur. How did you hear?"
"Everybody knows. But, I say, why?"
"I have resigned."
"You resigned--of your own accord? Haven't you been kicked out, then?
Aren't you obliged to go?"
"I am obliged to go, that's why I have resigned. You'll know all about
it some day."
"But, I say, can't you withdraw your resignation and stay? Oh, I say,
Marky, we shall be awfully up a tree without you here. Why ever are you
going? Can't it all be squared?"
"No, old fellow, I fear not. But I am not going for a week yet. Let's
make the most of the time, and get ahead with our work; for, remember,
you've that Swift Exhibition coming near ahead."
"Work!" exclaimed Arthur, in disgust. "I'll not do a stroke of work
more. I tell you what, if you leave, Marky, I shall leave too, and so
will Dig, there!"
"My dear old fellow," said Railsford kindly, "you are talking like a
little donkey. If you want to help me, you'll just determine to work
all the harder now."
"I say," said Dig, shirking the question, "have you got into a row, Mr
Railsford? Is it anything about--you know what?"
"You really mustn't ask me, boys; it's sufficient that I have to go, and
I don't think you two will believe it is because I have done anything
wrong."
"Rather not," said Arthur warmly. "But, I say, Marky, just tell us
this--it wasn't us got you into the row, was it? It was awfully low of
me to let it out to Felgate; but we bowled him out in time, just when he
was going to send those things to Bickers. Did you see the nice trick
we played him? He won't be able to do it again, for we burned the
things. Such a flare-up! It isn't our fault you're going, is it?"
"No, not a bit," said Railsford. "Now you had better go."
They went and proclaimed their master's wrongs through the length and
breadth of the house. The Shell took up the matter specially, and
convened an informal meeting to consult as to what was to be done.
"Let's send him a round robin, and ask him not to go," suggested Maple.
"Let's get our governors to write to the doctor," said another.
"Let's all leave if he does; that's bound to make him stay," said a
third.
Arthur, however, had a more practical proposal.
"What we'd better do is to get up a whacking petition to Pony," said he.
"We've got a right to do it; and if all the fellows will sign it, he
can't well let him go."
The question arose, Who was to write the petition? And after some
discussion it was resolved to call the amiable Stafford into their
councils. He at once suggested that if the petition was to be of any
weight it should come from the entire house, with the captain's name at
the head of the list; and a deputation was told off forthwith to wait
upon Ainger.
He was not very encouraging, but said there would be no harm in trying,
and undertook to draw up the petition and sign his name first
underneath.
The petition was short and business-like:
"To Dr Ponsford. Sir,--We, the boys of Mr Railsford's house, have
heard with great sorrow that he is to leave Grandcourt. We consider he
has done more for our house than any other master, and feel it would be
the greatest loss to all of us if he were to go. He does not know we
are sending this. We hope it will have your favourable consideration,
and make it possible for him to stay among us."
In two days this document received the signature of every boy in the
house except Felgate and Munger, who contrived to evade it. Ainger took
no trouble to press them for their signatures, and indeed stated, not in
a whisper, that the petition would carry more weight without these two
particular names than with them. Whereat Felgate and Munger felt rather
sorry they had not signed.
A deputation was then appointed, consisting of the head boy in each form
represented in the house, to convey the petition to the doctor. Arthur,
not being the head Shell boy in the house, felt very sore to be left
out, and prophesied all sorts of failure to the undertaking in
consequence.
However, he was consoled vastly by a fight with Tilbury that same
afternoon. Tilbury, though a signatory to the petition, was unlucky
enough to brag, in the hearing of his comrade, that one reason he had
signed it was because he believed Railsford had had something to do with
the paying-out of Mr Bickers last term, and was a friend to the house
in consequence. Whereupon Arthur, crimson in the face, requested him to
step outside and receive the biggest hiding he had ever had in his life.
Tilbury obeyed, and although the combat was not quite so decided as
Arthur had boasted, it disposed of the libel which had originated it,
and made it clear to the house that those who knew best, at any rate,
were now as firmly resolved to defend their master's innocence as last
term they had been to glory in his guilt.
The doctor received the deputation politely, and allowed Ainger to read
the petition and list of names without interruption.