Railsford's farewell evening in his house was not destined to be a
peaceful one.
He had scarcely returned from the masters' dinner, meditating a few
final touches to his packing, when Sir Digby Oakshott, Baronet, waited
upon him.
The baronet was evidently agitated; and more than that, his face was
one-sided, and one of his eyes glowed with all the colours of the
rainbow.
"Why, Oakshott," said the master, "what is the matter? You have been
fighting."
"That's not half of it," said Dig excitedly. "I say, Marky--I mean Mr
Railsford; please Herapath wants to see you. He's in a bad way up-
stairs. It's that cad Felgate. He's bashed us. He was in an awful wax
about the dodge we played him over that sack, you know, and tried to pay
us out the other day; but we kept him out. But he's been waiting his
chance ever since; and when I was out of the study this evening, he came
in, and gave it hot to Herapath. When I got back, Arthur was about
done, and then Felgate turned on me. If I'd been bigger, I could have
got a stroke or two in at his face; but I couldn't do it. I barked his
shins though, and gave him one on the neck with my left. So he didn't
get it all his own way. But, I say, can't you come up and see old
Herapath? You haven't got any raw beef-steaks about, have you? He'll
want a couple to set him right."
Railsford hurried up-stairs.
Arthur was lying on his sofa, blinking up at the ceiling with his one
open eye--an eloquent testimony both to his friend's veracity and to the
activity of his assailant.
"You see," he began, almost before Railsford reached the patient, so
anxious was he to excuse his battered appearance, "he caught me on the
hop, Marky, when I never expected him, and gave me no time to square up
to him. I could have made a better fight of it if he'd given me time
between the rounds; but he didn't."
Railsford made no remark on the unequal conflict, but did what he could
to assist the sufferer, and reduce his countenance to its normal
dimensions.
Arthur was far less concerned at his wounds than at the moral injury
which he had suffered in being so completely punished in the encounter.
He feared Railsford would entertain a lower opinion of him in
consequence.
"If I'd have only known he was coming, I could have made it hotter for
him," he said; "only he got my head in chancery early, and though I
lashed out all I could, he took it out of me. Marky, do you mind
feeling if my ribs are all right? I sort of fancied one of 'em had
gone."
His ribs, however, were all there; and badly as he was bruised,
Railsford was able to pronounce that no bones were broken, which greatly
relieved both the boys.
The master helped the wounded warrior to undress, and then assisted him
up to the dormitory, where, after carefully tucking him up, and advising
Dig to turn in too, he left him and returned to his room.
His impulse was immediately to summon Felgate, and mete out to him
exemplary chastisement for his dastardly act. But on second thoughts he
remembered that he was, or rather he would be to-morrow, no longer
master of the house. Besides, much as the chastisement might have
relieved his own feelings, it would leave the house and everyone in it
in much the same position as heretofore.
Putting everything together, he decided that his last official act
should be to report the matter to the doctor next morning, and leave him
to deal with it.
Having come to which conclusion, he strapped up his portmanteau, and
sent an order to Jason for his cab to-morrow.
He was meditating an early retirement to bed, when a knock sounded at
the door, and the three prefects entered.
It seemed a long while since their first embarrassed meeting in that
same room at the beginning of last term. Much had happened since then.
The house had gone down into the depths and risen to the heights. There
had come disgrace and glory, defeat and victory. The ranks of the
prefects themselves had been broken, and the master himself had ended
his brief career amongst his boys. But as great a change as any had
been the growing respect and sympathy between Railsford and his head
boys.
It was long since he had learned the secret that sympathy is the golden
key to a boy's heart. As long as he tried to do without it, sitting on
his high horse, and regarding his pupils as mere things to be taught and
ordered and punished, he had failed. But from the moment he had seized
the golden opportunity presented by the misfortune of the house to throw
in his lot with it, and make his interests and ambitions those of his
boys, he had gained a hold which no other influence could have given
him.
His prefects had led the way in the reaction which had set in in his
favour, and perfect confidence bound them all together in no common
bond.
"Do you mind our disturbing you, sir?" said Ainger. "We didn't want you
to go without our telling you how awfully sorry we are. We don't know
what will become of the house."
"I'm not sure that I much care," said Stafford.
"How good of you to come like this!" said the master. "For I wanted to
talk to you. You _must_ care, Stafford, and all of you. You surely
aren't going to give up all the work of these two terms just because a
little misfortune has befallen us?"
"It's not a little misfortune," said Ainger, "but a very great one."
"All the more reason you should not be knocked over by it. Didn't we
all set ourselves to work last term in the face of a big misfortune, and
didn't we get some good out of it for the house? It will be my one
consolation in leaving to feel sure you will not let the work of the
house flag an inch. Remember, Railsford's is committed to the task of
becoming cock house of the school. Our eleven is quite safe. I'm
certain no team in all the rest of the houses put together can beat us.
But you must see we give a good account of ourselves on prize-day too.
Some of the boys have nagged a little lately in work. We must keep them
up to it--not by bullying--nobody will work for that--but by working on
their ambition, and making the cause of each boy the cause of the whole
house."
Railsford, as he uttered these words, seemed to forget how soon he would
have to say "you" instead of "we." He had hardly realised yet what that
meant.
"We'll try hard," said Ainger. "But what we wanted to say, besides
letting you know how sorry we are, was to ask if it's really necessary
for you to go. Is there no way of getting out of it?"
"None at all, that I can see," said Railsford.
"Fellows say you know who it was assaulted Mr Bickers last term and
won't tell. Perhaps it's to save some fellow in the house from being
expelled. But--"
"My dear fellows," said Railsford, "don't let's spoil our last evening
by talking about this miserable affair. I can't tell you anything at
all: I can only ask you to believe I have good reasons for what I'm
doing. They ought to be good reasons, if the price I have to pay is to
leave Grandcourt, and all of you."
It was evidently no use trying to "draw" him further; and as the first
bed bell sounded shortly afterwards, they withdrew after a cordial but
dismal farewell.
"I shall see you again in the morning before I go," said he.
The prefects walked away abstracted and downcast. It was all very well
for him to say, "Keep the work up when I am gone." But how were they to
do it? He was the pivot on which all their work had been turning; and
without him what chance was there of keeping the house together for a
day?
"Come in here a minute, you fellows," said Ainger, as they reached the
captain's door. "We _must_ do something to stop it."
"That's a very feeble observation to make," said Barnworth. "Is that
what you want us to come in here for?"
"No, hang it, Barnworth! there's no time for chaff at present. What I
want to say is, have we tried every possible means of finding out who
scragged Bickers last term?"
"I think so," said Stafford. "Every one in the house has denied it. If
it's one of our fellows, it's probably the biggest liar among us."
"Which means Felgate?" said Ainger.
"Or Munger," said Barnworth.
"It's not Felgate," said Ainger, "for he has burnt his fingers in trying
to fix it on Railsford himself; and it he was the real culprit, you may
depend on it he'd have kept very quiet."
"Munger _has_ kept quiet," said Barnworth.
"Munger! Why, he's a fool and a coward both. He could never have done
such a thing."
"Let's ask him. I'll tell you why I mentioned him. I never thought of
it till now. The other day I happened to be saying at dinner to
somebody that that affair was going to be cleared up at last, and that
the doctor had been in consultation with Bickers and Railsford about it
the evening before--you know, that's what we were told--and would
probably come across--this was an embellishment of my own--with a
policeman, and point the fellow out. Munger was sitting opposite me,
and when I began to speak he had just filled his tumbler with water, and
was going to drink it. But half-way through he suddenly stopped, and
put the tumbler down with such a crack on the table that he spilt half
the water on to the cloth. I didn't think anything of it at the time,
but it occurs to me now."
"Well," said Ainger, "it's an off-chance. Staff, do you mind bringing
him?"
"The one thing to do," said Barnworth, while the messenger was gone, "is
to frighten it out of him. Nothing else will do."
"Well," said Ainger, "if you think so. You must back me up, though."
After a long interval, Stafford returned to say that Munger was in bed
and refused to get up.
"Good," said Barnworth; "I like that. Now, Staff, you amiable old boy,
will you kindly go to him again and say that the prefects are waiting
for him in the captain's study, and that if he is not here in five
minutes they will have to do without him. I fancy that's true, isn't
it?" he added, appealing to his colleagues. "Let's see if that doesn't
draw him. If it does, depend upon it there was something in that
tumbler."
Barnworth was right. In less than five minutes Munger appeared, half-
dressed, and decidedly uneasy in his manner.
"What do you want me for?" he demanded, with an attempt at bluster.
"What do you mean by not coming when we sent for you, when you know
perfectly well what you are wanted for?"
"What am I wanted for?" asked Munger, glancing nervously round.
"You know well enough, Munger."
"How do I know, till you tell me?" snarled the boy.
"If he doesn't know," said Barnworth to Ainger, significantly, "we must
do as we proposed. I'll go and get my papers and be ready for you in a
minute."
This meaningless speech had a remarkable effect on Munger. He stared
first at one prefect, then at the other; and when Barnworth rose as if
to leave the room, he said,--
"Wait--don't do that. What is it you want to ask?"
"You know that as well as we do. Are you going to say what you know, or
not?"
"I don't know how you got to know anything about it," began Munger;
"it's a plot against me, and--"
"We don't want all that," said Ainger sternly. "What we want to know
is, did you do it yourself, and if not who else was in it?"
"Of course I couldn't do it myself. _You_ couldn't, strong as you are."
"You helped, then?"
"I had nothing to do with the--the scragging," said Munger. "I--Oh, I
say, Ainger, you aren't going to get me expelled, surely? Do let us off
this time!"
"I'm not the head-master; you'll have to ask him that. Your only chance
is to make a clean breast of it at once. What was it you did?"
"I only opened the door of the boot-box, and helped drag him in. I had
nothing to do with the scragging. Branscombe did all that himself, and
Clipstone hung to his legs."
It needed all the self-control of the three prefects to refrain from an
exclamation of astonishment at this wonderful disclosure.
"Are you telling the truth?" demanded Ainger.
"I am--I swear it--I never even knew what they meant to do till an hour
before. It was Clipstone's idea, and I--owed him money for betting, and
he had a pull on me, and made me do it. But I swear I never touched
Bickers except to help pull him in."
"Now, one question more. Was there anyone else in it, but just you
three?"
"Nobody, as sure as I stand here."
"Very well, you can go now. We shall have to tell the doctor, of
course, and there's no knowing what he will do. But it's been your best
chance to make a clean breast of it while you had the opportunity."
The wretched Munger departed to his bed, but not to sleep. He could not
conceive how Railsford first, and then these three prefects, should have
discovered his deeply hidden secret. Not a word about it had escaped
his own lips. Branscombe was away, and Clipstone scarcely anyone in
Railsford's house ever saw. But the secret was out, and what kept
Munger awake that night was neither shame nor remorse, but fear lest he
should be expelled, or, perhaps worse, arrested!
The three prefects sat late, talking over their wonderful discovery.
"It's good as far as it goes," said Barnworth. "But it doesn't clear up
the question how Railsford got to hear of it, and what his motive has
been in shielding the criminals. It can't have been on Munger's
account, for the two have been at war all the term; and I don't suppose
since the affair he has exchanged two words with either Branscombe or
Clipstone."
"Don't you think," said the captain, "that now we do know all about it,
we might go and ask him?"
It was a brilliant suggestion, and they went.
But Railsford was in bed and asleep; and his visitors, important as was
their business, had not the hardihood to arouse him, and were
reluctantly obliged to postpone their explanation till the morning.
Even then they seemed destined to be thwarted; for Railsford had gone
for a bathe in the river, and only returned in time for call-over; when
of course there was no opportunity for a private conference.
But as soon as breakfast was over they determined to catch him in his
room, and put an end to their suspense there and then.
Alas! not five minutes before they arrived, Railsford had gone out, this
time, as Cooke informed them, to the doctor's.
It seemed a fatality, and who was to say whether his next move might be
to quit Grandcourt without even giving them a chance?
"The only thing to do is to go and catch him at the doctor's," said
Ainger; "we've a right to go--at least I have--to report Munger."
"All serene," said Barnworth, "better for you to go alone. It would
only put Pony's back up if we all went."
For once in his life Ainger felt that there were some dignities
connected with the captaincy of a house; and for once in his life he
would have liked to transfer those dignities to any shoulders but his
own.
But he put a bold face on it, and marched across to the doctor's.
"Perhaps I shall only make it worse for Railsford," said he to himself.
"Pony will think it precious rum of us to have let two terms go by
without finding the secret out, and then, when it suits us to find it,
getting hold of it in half an hour. So it is, precious rum! And if
Railsford has known the names all along and kept them quiet, it's not
likely to make things better for him that we have discovered them on our
own account. Anyhow, I'm bound to report a thing like this at once, and
it's barely possible it may turn something up for Railsford."
As he crossed the quadrangle a cab drove in, and set down a tall,
elderly gentleman, who, after looking about him, advanced towards the
prefect, and said,--
"Can you direct me to the head-master's house?"
"Yes, sir," said Ainger, "I'm going there myself. It's this way."
It wasn't often strangers made so early a call at Grandcourt.
"A fine old building, this," said the gentleman; "how many houses are
there?"
"Eight," said Ainger.
"And whose do you belong to?"
"Railsford's. That's his, behind us."
"And which is Mr Bickers?"
"This must be the father of one of Bickers' fellows," thought Ainger.
"That one next to ours," he replied.
The gentleman looked up at the house in an interested way, and then
relapsed into silence and walked gravely with his guide to the doctor's.
The doctor's waiting-room was not infrequently tenanted by more than one
caller on business at that hour of the morning. For between nine and
ten he was at home to masters and prefects and ill-conducted boys; and
not a few of the latter knew by painful experience that a good deal of
serious business was often crowded into that short space of time.
This morning, however, there was only one occupant when Ainger and the
gentleman were ushered in. That occupant was Railsford.
"Why, Ainger," said the master, scarcely noticing the stranger, "I did
not expect you here. What are you come for?"
"To report a boy."
"Which one, and for what? Is it a bad case?"
"It's Munger, sir, for being one of the party who assaulted Bickers last
term."
Railsford started. And it was an odd thing that the gentleman, although
his back was turned, did so too.
"How did you discover that?" said the master.
Ainger briefly explained, and the gentleman, evidently disturbed in his
mind, walked to the window.
When the conference between the other two had ended the latter turned
abruptly and said,--
"Excuse me, but I accidentally overheard you just now mention a matter
in which I am very much interested. In fact, it is about it that I am
here to see Dr Ponsford at present."
At that moment the doctor entered the room. The other two naturally
gave way to the visitor, who accordingly advanced and greeted the head-
master.
"Allow me to introduce myself, Dr Ponsford; I dare say you do not
remember me. My name is Branscombe. You know, of course, the painful
business on which I have come."
"I hope, Mr Branscombe, your son is no worse. We should be sorry to
lose him. We looked upon him as a promising boy."
The gentleman looked hard at the doctor.
"You surely say this to spare my feelings. Dr Ponsford. Of course I
understand my son can never return here."
"Is that so? I am truly sorry."
"You would be the last to wish him to return to a school in which his
name has been so disgraced."
It was the doctor's turn to look astonished.
"Disgraced? Branscombe was always one of our model boys."
"Until last term," said the father.
"I don't understand you," said the doctor.
"Surely, Dr Ponsford, you know by this time my son's offence. I do not
attempt to excuse it. He voluntarily took the only right step to take
in his position by confessing."
"Pardon me," said the doctor, "but I still do not understand. What
confession do you refer to?"
"Has not Mr Bickers communicated the contents of my son's letter to
him, written two days ago? He must have received it yesterday morning.
In it my boy confessed that he, assisted by two others, had been the
author of the outrage on Mr Bickers last term. He is deeply repentant,
and wishes by this confession to put right all the mischief which has
resulted from his act. But surely Mr Bickers has shown you the
letter?"
"He has neither shown me it nor mentioned it."
"Is it possible? My boy was so anxious and restless about the affair
that I promised him to come down and see you; fully expecting that long
before now you would have been made acquainted with everything. Would
it trouble you to send for Mr Bickers?"
"Certainly," said the doctor. Then, turning to Ainger and Railsford, he
said, "Would you two come again later on? and on your way, Ainger, will
you ask Mr Bickers to come here?"
"Excuse me, doctor," said Mr Branscombe, "but I should much prefer if
these two gentlemen remained. I believe, in fact, that--although I do
not know them--they have come to see you on this same business that I
have."
"Perhaps, Railsford--" began the doctor, when his visitor broke in,
"Railsford! Is this Railsford? Why, to be sure, now I look at you.
How ungrateful you must have thought me! but you slipped away so
suddenly that day when Mrs Branscombe and I arrived, that in our
excitement and anxiety we scarcely had time to look at you; much less to
thank you. Indeed, it was only lately my son told me how devotedly you
had tended him; and it breaks his heart now to think that you, of all
persons, have suffered almost more than anybody by what he did. Surely,
sir, Mr Bickers showed _you_ his letter?"
"No, I have not seen or heard of it," said Railsford. "But I know what
you say your son has now confessed; and have known it since the time of
his illness. Dr Ponsford, I am at liberty now to explain myself; may I
do so?"
"Certainly," said the doctor sternly.
Railsford thereupon gave an account of the boy's sudden illness, and of
the accidental manner in which he had learned, from the boy's delirious
talk, of his own guilt and the guilt of his confederates.
"I could not but regard a secret so acquired as sacred," said he; "and
even though by keeping it I was actually shielding criminals, I should
have been a greater traitor to betray them than to shield them."
"May I say, sir," put in Ainger at this point, "that the prefects in our
house last night received a confession from Munger, which corresponds
exactly with what Mr Branscombe says?"
"Except that I did not mention the names of the other two culprits,"
said Mr Branscombe. "My son did not even name them to me."
"Munger was not so particular. He says Clipstone suggested the affair,
and assisted Branscombe to carry it out; while he himself held the light
and helped drag Mr Bickers into the boot-box. That was what I had come
to report to you now, sir," added he to the head-master.
Dr Ponsford looked half stunned with this cascade of revelations and
explanations. Then he went up to Railsford and took his hand.
"I am thankful indeed that all this has happened now--in time. A few
hours more, and it would have come too late to prevent a great injustice
to you, Railsford. Ainger, go for Mr Bickers, and come back with him."
Mr Bickers had a tolerable inkling of what awaited him, and when he
found himself confronted with all the overwhelming evidence which was
crowded that morning into the doctor's waiting-room, he hauled down his
colours without even coming to close quarters.
"Yes," said he sullenly, "I did keep back the letter. I considered it
better for Grandcourt and everyone that Mr Railsford should go than
that this old affair should be settled. After all, I was the person
chiefly interested in it, and if I didn't choose to do what would
vindicate myself, I had a right to do so. My opinion is that there will
be no peace at Grandcourt while Mr Railsford is here. If he is now to
remain, I shall consider it my duty to resign."
"I hope not, Mr Bickers," said Railsford. "Now that this unhappy
secret is cleared up, why shouldn't we forget the past, and work
together for the future? I promise for myself and my house to do our
best."
"Thank you," said Mr Bickers dryly. "The offer is a tempting one, but
it is not good enough. Good-morning."
Late that afternoon Mr Bickers drove away in the cab which had come to
take Mr Railsford.
It was an occasion for rejoicing to nobody--for everybody agreed with
Railsford that it would have been possible even yet to make a fresh
start and work together for the good of the school. But, as Mr Bickers
thought otherwise, no one complained of him for leaving.
Another cab came on the following day for Clipstone, whose departure was
witnessed with rather more regret, because he was a good cricketer, and
not quite as bad a fellow as he often tried to make out. His expulsion
was a salutary warning to one or two who had looked up to him as a
model--amongst them to Munger, who, transferred, with a heavy bad mark
against his name, to Mr Roe's house, thought over his former ways, and
tried, as well as a cad of his temper can do, to improve them in the
future.
Jason surely was making his fortune fast. For the very next day yet one
more cab drove into the square, and, after a brief halt, drove away with
Felgate. He left Grandcourt regretted by none, least of all by Arthur
Herapath, who, with a beef-steak on his cheek and linseed poultice over
his temple, whooped defiantly at the retreating cab from his dormitory
window, and began to feel better and better as the rumble of the wheels
gradually receded and finally lost itself in the distance.