HOW GEORGE READER WENT UP FOR HIS FINAL EXAMINATION AND LEFT ME BEHIND
HIM.
"Old man, you're overdoing it!"
These words were uttered by Jim Halliday, one evening two years after
the events related in our last chapter, to his friend George Reader, as
the two sat together in Jim's rooms at Saint George's.
Time had wrought changes with both. My master had secured the
scholarship for which he had worked so hard during his first year's
residence, and no longer inhabited the "Mouse-trap." His present
quarters were the rooms immediately above those in which he was at this
moment sitting, and it is hardly necessary to say that the two friends
were constantly in one another's society. George, though still
retaining much of his shyness, had made many acquaintances at his
college, but Jim was his only friend. The two had their meals together,
attended lectures together, worked together, and, though a greater
contrast in all respects could hardly have been possible, were fairly
inseparable.
At the present moment they were both working hard for the grand Tripos
examination which was to close their college career. Every one said
George would stand high in this, and Jim (since he had taken to hard
reading) was expected to pass too, though how, none of his friends cared
to prophesy.
They were working hard on the evening in question, when Jim, suddenly
shutting up his books and pushing back his chair, exclaimed,--
"Old man, you're overdoing it!"
George looked up from his work, surprised at the interruption. Alas!
his pale face and sunken eyes testified only too forcibly to his
friend's protest. I, who knew him best, and saw him at all times, had
watched with grief the steady and persistent undermining of his health,
at no times robust, and dreaded to think what might be the result of
this protracted strain on his constitution.
"I tell you, you're overdoing it, old man, and you must pull up!"
"Suppose we talk of that afterwards," said George.
"Not at all," retorted the dogged Jim; "just shut up your books, Reader,
and listen to me."
"I'll listen to you, Jim, but don't make me shut up my books. What have
you got to say?"
"Just this; you're doing too much. I can see it. Everybody can see it.
Do you think I can't see your eyes and your cheeks? Do you think I
can't hear you blowing like--"
"Really--" began George.
"Listen to me!" went on Jim--"blowing like an old broken-winded horse?
Yes, you may laugh, but I mean it. Do you think I don't know you've
never been out of doors ten minutes that you could help for six months?
and that you have even given up the organ?"
"That's true," groaned George, leaning back in his chair.
"Of course it's true, and it's equally true that you'll smash up
altogether if this goes on much longer. Then what will be the use of
all your achievements? What will be the good of them to your father and
mother, for instance, when you are knocked up?"
"I _must_ work up to the Tripos now," pleaded George, "it's only a
fortnight."
"My dear fellow, how you talk! As if you weren't certain of a first
class even if you were not to look at another book between now and
then."
"I'm not at all certain," said George, anxiously.
"Yes you are, and if you hadn't worked yourself into an unhealthy,
morbid state you would know it. No, old fellow, we've never quarrelled
yet, and don't let us begin."
"Certainly not. Why should we?"
"We shall if I don't get my way. Now tell me, what time did you go to
bed last night?"
"Three, I believe."
"No, it wasn't, it was four, for I heard you over head; and the night
before it was three; and the night before that, if I mistake not, you
didn't go to bed at all. Eh?"
George smiled, but said nothing.
"Well," said Jim, putting down his foot, "this must be stopped. You may
work till ten every night, but then you _must_ go to bed, or you and I
will fall out."
Jim looked so grave as he said this that George was bound to take it in
the earnest way in which it was meant. A long argument ensued. George
pleaded, Jim bullied, and at last my master was obliged to promise to
give over work at twelve every night for the next fortnight. But more
he would not promise. No persuasions could tempt him out of doors for
more than a hurried five minutes' walk, or induce him to yield to the
fascinations of the organ. As the days went on, too, he grew more and
more despondent about his own chances, and implored more than once to be
released from his promise. But Jim was inflexible, and held him grimly
to his engagement.
"You're certain to be among the first three," he said, over and over
again, "and if you'll only give yourself two days' rest you may be
first."
"Yes, of the third class," mournfully replied my master. "I tell you
what, Jim, it isn't fair to bind me down to a promise I made almost
under compulsion, and for fear of making you angry."
"It's quite fair, and you would make me angry if you didn't stick to it.
Why, my dear fellow, has it ever occurred to you I'm in for the same
Tripos as you, and I'm not behaving as ridiculously as you?"
"You are safe to be in the second class," said George.
"I wish I were as safe of a second as you are of a first; but I wouldn't
kill myself to be senior classic."
"You forget how important it is for me to take a good place."
"It is far more important to retain your health."
"Think what a difference it would make at home if I got a fellowship."
"What a difference it would make if you had to go to a hospital."
"What a pity, when I have the chance, not to use it."
"What a pity, when you have the chance, to throw it away by knocking
yourself up."
"Surely four days can't make any difference."
"Then why not stop work now and take a rest?"
It was plain to see these two would never agree, and so the time went on
until the date of the examination arrived.
The night before the two friends met in George's room. George was in
low spirits, nervous and fretful. It was plain to see his friend's
protest had come too late to be of much use, for he had grown more and
more worn every day; and the additional hours spent in bed had only been
a source of worry and vexation. Jim, on the other hand, was doing his
best to keep up, not his own spirits only, but those of his friend. His
chances of a second class were as momentous to him (though he would not
admit it) as his friend's of a first, and he too was experiencing,
though in a less degree, that heart-sinking which so often characterises
the eve of an examination.
"You are not going to work to-night?" said he to my master.
"I think I must," said George, wearily, and putting his hand to his
forehead.
"It can't be any earthly good now," said Jim, "so let's forget all about
it for a bit and talk of something else."
Forget all about it! George smiled in a melancholy way at the words;
but nevertheless he was not well enough to contest the point. "And by
the way," added Jim, cheerily, "I've got a letter from Newcome (you
remember Newcome, George, the man who played for Sandhurst against us
two years ago) I think you'll like to hear."
There was one in the room, whether George liked it or not, who was dying
to hear it!
"He's just gone out to India, you know, to join his regiment."
"Here's his letter," he said, producing it and nervously glancing at
George to see if he appeared interested. "Shall I read it?"
"Yes, please," said George, slowly.
"It's not a long one. `Dear Jim,' he says, `I wish you were out here
with all my heart. I should at least have one fellow to talk to among
all these strangers. I had a decent enough passage. Father Ocean was
on his good behaviour, and the vessel was a snug one. We came in for
rough weather in the Persian Gulf, but it didn't afflict me much, and I
landed here two days ago, safe and sound. I reported myself to our
colonel yesterday and was introduced to my fellow-officers. Some of
them are decent fellows, though perhaps hardly in your and my line. I
had been told the officers of our regiment were a rackety lot, but I
don't see much sign of that yet. It's awfully dull here, and I would
give a lot to be up in your rooms at George's, sprawling in your easy-
chair and talking over Randlebury days. I suppose you will soon be in
for your final. Good luck be with you, my boy! Remember me in your
will if you get made a Fellow. I suppose the man I met in your rooms
once--Read I believe his name was--will be first. Talking of that day,
have you heard lately of Tom Drift? I shall always be glad I went up to
town that night and found him out, though I lost him again so soon. I
inquired everywhere when I was last in town, but nothing was known of
him, except that he was supposed to have been engaged in some--' But
that's all about an old schoolfellow and won't interest you. `We expect
to be ordered up-country pretty soon now, and meanwhile have liberty to
amuse ourselves pretty much as we like, but, as far as I can see, cards
unfortunately seem the only recreation in which the officers indulge.
However, I shall be kept busy with drill, and being junior officer
expect I shall be for some time fag of the regiment. Mind you write as
soon as ever you get this, and a regular yarn. I have had to write this
in a hurry, and in a room where a noise is going on. By next mail you
shall get a full, true, and particular account of all the doings,
sayings, and adventures of yours as ever, C.N.'
"I'm afraid," said Jim, as he folded up the letter, "it will be rather
dull out there, for--hullo!"
This ejaculation was caused by seeing that George was sitting motionless
with his elbows on the table and his face buried in his hands.
"What's the matter?" he said, getting up and laying his hand on his
friend's arm.
George looked up suddenly with a scared face, which frightened Jim.
"Old man, aren't you well?" said the latter anxiously.
"Eh?--oh, yes! I'm all right. Why--why do you ask? But I say, Jim,
this room is close. Let's go out and take a turn in the big court."
Jim, in sore perplexity, complied, and for an hour those two paced the
flags round the great quadrangle. George was himself again, much to
Jim's relief, and suffered himself to be sent uncomplainingly to bed at
ten. To bed, but not to sleep. All night long I heard him toss to and
fro, vainly endeavouring to recall Greek and Latin lines or some other
fragment of his studies. At about six he dozed fitfully for an hour,
and then came the knock at the door which summoned him from his bed to
the first day of his ordeal.
I would rather not dwell on those examination days, for I could tell, if
no one else could, that my master was really ill, and was only prevented
by sheer excitement from succumbing at any moment. As day by day passed
I could see the effort becoming more and more difficult. The nights
were worse than the days--sleepless, feverish, distracted. It was
evident this could not go on for long.
The last day of the examination arrived, and my master was in his usual
place in the Senate House. His pen flew swiftly all the morning along
the paper, and one by one, a triumphant tick was set against the printed
questions before him. I could see no one as well employed as he. Jim,
at a distant desk, was biting the end of his pen and looking up at the
ceiling; other men sat back in their seats and stared with knitted brows
at the paper before them; others buried their fingers in their hair and
looked the picture of despair. But still my master wrote on. It wanted
half an hour to the time of closing when he reached the last question on
the paper. I saw his lips curl into a smile as he dashed his pen into
the ink and began to write. Then suddenly it dropped from his fingers,
and his hands were clasped to his forehead. He made no motion and
uttered no cry; men went on with their work on each side of him, and
professors at their desks never turned his way. I looked wildly towards
Jim; he sat there, biting the end of his pen and scowling at the
question before him, but for a long time never looked our way. At last
his head turned, and in an instant he was at his friend's side. Others
came round too and offered help. Among them my poor master was borne
from the hall and carried to his rooms, and that evening it was known
all over the University that Reader, of George's, had been taken ill
during the Tripos examination, and now lay delirious in his rooms in
college.
Every one believed the attack was but a slight one, but I feared the
worst; I knew how systematically and fatally my master's constitution
had been undermined by the work of the last three years, and felt sure
it could never rally from the fierce fever which had laid him low. And
it never did. The fever left him in due time, and his mind ceased to
wander, but every hour his strength failed him. His parents and Jim,
and sometimes his old friend the rector, would constantly be about his
bed, and to all of them it soon became evident what little hope there
was of his recovery. Indeed, he must have guessed it too!
One day, as Jim sat with him, a faint shout was heard below in the
quadrangle.
"What's that?" inquired George.
"I'll see," said Jim, and he went lightly from the room.
Presently he returned with a face almost beaming.
"It's good news," he said; "they were reading the result of the Tripos."
"And where are you?" asked George.
"_You_ are first!" said Jim, proudly.
"Where are you?" repeated George.
"I am twelfth."
"In the first class?"
"Yes."
"That is good news, old fellow!"
"That shout was in your honour, you know; our college is as proud as
anything to have the first man."
George smiled feebly, and for a long time both were silent.