RICHARD IS DETERMINED, AND SOME ALLUSION IS MADE TO "WATERMELONS."
There had been a time when Richard Grant would have desired no better
fun than to engage in such a mutiny as that proposed by Nevers and
Redman; and he was not yet so far removed from his evil propensities as
to be able to decline the proposition. The boys of the Institute
believed they had a real grievance, for it seemed harsh and needless to
deprive them of some of their best hours for amusement. It looked just
as though the principal was angry because he could not ascertain who
had broken the rules of the school, and spitefully intended to punish
the innocent with the guilty.
Probably none of them intended to carry their opposition any farther
than to express their disapprobation of the new regulation. The colonel
was a universal favorite, and they had full confidence in his judgment
and his justice. Perhaps the desire to have a little fun and excitement
was the strongest motive that actuated them.
During the afternoon, the plan to redress their grievance was whispered
among the boys. "All the fellows were going to join the mutiny" was the
strongest inducement that could be used to obtain the consent of the
timid ones; and if "all were going to join," it would require a great
deal of moral courage to stand aloof from the scheme.
Richard was sorely perplexed. With the others, he felt that the new
regulation was arbitrary and unnecessary; and such a scrape as the boys
proposed was exactly in accordance with his antecedents. He wanted to
join for the fun of the thing, and because the rest of the boys were
going to do so. He did not like to be singular. Besides, he might
injure his popularity, and lose some of the influence he possessed, if
he refused to join.
The temptation was so strong that he could not at first resist it; and
though he did not positively promise to meet the others under the big
oak, he gave them some encouragement that he would do so. The little
time he had to think of the matter during the study and recreation
hours did not enable him to arrive at a conclusion; and at five
o'clock, when school was dismissed, he was still halting between two
opinions.
When he left the school room, he fixed his mind upon the question, and
began to discuss it in the most vigorous manner. He knew that any
resistance to the authorities of the school was wrong. Colonel
Brockridge had made the rule, and it was his duty to observe it. What
would Bertha say, after he had given her such a glowing account of his
success in overcoming temptation, when she was informed that he had
joined a mutiny?
"I'll keep my resolution!" said he, stamping his foot upon the ground
to emphasize his determination. "I'll stand out against the whole of
them."
Half past five came, and nearly every boy in the school had gone to the
appointed place. Richard sat on the bench at the foot of the flagstaff
on the parade ground, thinking whether his duty required him to do any
thing more than simply refuse to join the mutiny. Somehow, it entered
into his head that it was his duty to prevent the rebellion if he
could. It even occurred to him that he ought to inform Colonel
Brockridge of the intention of the students, and thus place himself on
the side of law and order; but he rejected this suggestion, it was so
utterly repugnant to his nature. He could not "tell tales out of
school." If any body's life, property, or happiness had been at stake,
he might have felt differently. Richard was a novice in advocating the
claims of law and order, of truth and justice; and he was more easily
satisfied than some would have been in a similar situation.
"While he was debating this matter with himself, Nevers, Bailey, and
Redman approached, and interrupted his meditations. They appeared to be
a committee appointed to wait upon him, and ascertain his views upon
the momentous question.
"You didn't come down," said Nevers.
"No; I have concluded not to join in the scrape," replied Richard,
gravely.
"Why not?"
"Because I don't think it is right; and I think if we speak to the
colonel about the matter, he will make it all right."
"I tell you, Grant, he has no right to make such a regulation," added
Nevers, with energy; "and I, for one, am not going to beg him not to do
that which he has no right to do."
"Come, Grant, you are almost the only fellow in the school who won't
join the mutiny," said Redman.
"The fellows are all in for it, and you had better come," added Bailey.
"No; I won't join," replied Richard, decidedly.
"Come down to the grove, whether you join or not," suggested Nevers.
"I am willing to go down to the grove, but I shall not go in for this
scrape."
"Come along, then."
The boys walked over to the grove, the committee using all their
eloquence and logic to induce Richard to change his mind; but thus far
he remained firm and loyal to his good resolution. His arrival at the
grove created a sensation, for it seemed to be evidence that he was to
form one of the party.
The position of Richard Grant on the present occasion was so novel that
he could hardly believe in his own identity. Like the old woman with
the little pig, it did not seem to be he that was refusing an
invitation to join in a scrape so harmless as the one proposed; and he
almost needed an introduction to himself.
But Richard was himself, truly himself--himself in the highest and
noblest sense. His determination to keep his resolution seemed to
create around him an atmosphere of purity, and the more he breathed it,
the firmer and the stronger he became. The boys exhorted him singly, in
couples, and by squads, to join the foolish enterprise, but without
effect.
"Better come with us, Grant," said Nevers. "We have got a first-rate
plan, and we shall have a tip-top time."
"I have fully made up my mind not to go," replied Richard.
"I shall not go, if Grant doesn't," added Bailey.
"Nor I," said another.
"Back out--will you?" sneered Nevers, his face darkening with an
expression of anger.
"I said I would join if Grant did," replied Bailey, stung by the
reproach.
Most of the boys were silent for a time, for the decided and unexpected
stand taken by Richard, the favorite of the school, altered the
complexion of the whole affair. This silence was succeeded by a more
unequivocal demonstration. One after another followed the example of
Bailey, and deserted the bad cause, till Richard found himself no
longer alone, but supported by at least thirty of the best fellows in
the Institute; and then they began to come over in squads.
"You are the meanest set of cowards I ever saw in my life," exclaimed
Nevers, bitterly, when the enterprise appeared to be fully nipped in
the bud.
"Grant is right," several of the boys replied.
"Grant!" sneered Nevers, angrily. "He wasn't always so nice as he is
now."
"That's so," said Redman, as he placed himself by the side of the
bully. "We know a thing or two about Grant, before he became pious."
"What do you mean by pious?" demanded Richard, stepping up to the
speaker; and as he did so, his fists were involuntarily clinched.
"Watermelons!" replied Redman, vindictively.
"Watermelons!" added Nevers.
"Watermelons!" responded a dozen or more of the large boys, who had
gathered around Redman.
"Do you walk in your sleep any now, Grant?" said Redman, with a mocking
laugh. "You wasn't pious _then_."
Richard was so mortified and confused by these taunts that he wished
the earth might open and hide him from the exulting gaze of his
assailants. His blood boiled with shame and indignation, and more than
ever before he realized that "the way of the transgressor is hard." His
first impulse was to rush upon his dastardly foes, and crush them
beneath the weight of his strong arm.
Most of the boys looked at each other with astonishment, wondering what
could be meant by "watermelons," and walking in his sleep. It was
evident to Richard that only a few of his companions understood the
reflections cast upon him. There he stood, trembling, as it were, in
the balance, and ready to be carried up or down by this new and most
terrible trial--up into a higher sphere of virtue, or down into a
deeper degradation than any he had yet fathomed.
"I will be true to myself!" said he to himself, after he had stood
silent for a moment, blushing with shame, and assailed by the foe
without and the foe within.
His clinched fist unclosed, the muscles relaxed, and though his face
was still red, a smile of triumph played upon his lips.
"Will you go, Watermelons?" sneered Redman.
"I will not," replied Richard.
"Shut up, Redman," interposed Nevers, who entirely mistook the singular
change which had come over Richard's countenance. "Come, Grant, you and
I will talk it over alone;" and he took his arm, and led him away from
the crowd.
"You see we know all about these things," continued Nevers, "but we
don't want to be hard upon you. Only about a dozen of us know any thing
about those scrapes."
"Who told you about them?" asked Richard.
"That's nothing to the purpose. You are a good fellow, Grant, and I
advise you to join us; if you do, not a fellow shall ever say a word
about watermelons or sleep-walking."
"I will not join you, whatever you say and whatever you do."
"Then you won't hear any thing but watermelons while you stay here. I
called you out as a friend, and I think you had better go with us."
"I will not."
"Then we will tell all the fellows."
"I will save you the trouble by telling them myself."
"Come, Grant."
"I will not."
"Go it, then, Watermelons!" said Nevers, as he ran back to the others,
and told them of the result of the interview.
Richard wondered who could have informed them of his scrapes, but he
could form no idea. Lest our readers should be equally in the dark, we
will tell them, confidentially, that Sandy Brimblecom had done the
mischief. A cousin of his, on his way to Tunbrook, had stopped a day in
Whitestone. This relative was, unfortunately, one of the Nevers'
faction, and the information he brought was carefully preserved for an
emergency.
"All who join, come under the big tree!" shouted Redman. "If you walk
in your sleep, Grant, perhaps you will pay us a visit."
"Asleep or awake," replied Richard, calmly, but forcibly, "I shall know
enough to keep out of bad company."
"Do you mean me by that?" demanded Redman, rushing up to Richard, and
shaking his fist in his face.
"I do."
"Then take that;" and Redman struck Richard in the face.
The latter did take that, but the next instant his assailant lay upon
the ground, where Richard with a single blow had thrown him.
"None of that, Redman," interposed Nevers. "The colonel will be down
upon us."
"Let's lick him," said another.
"I am ready," coolly replied Richard, throwing off his coat.
But prudence carried the day, and the mutineers retired to the big oak.
Only about fifty, or one fourth of the students, responded to the call
of Redman, and the rest retired from the ground.
"What did they mean by 'watermelons'?" asked Bailey, as they walked up
to the Institute.
"I'll tell you all about it;" replied Richard. "I got into some scrapes
before I came here;" and he told his companions the whole story. "But,
fellows, I have turned over a new leaf."
"Good!" said Bailey. "I am glad you told us; and I'm sure no decent
fellow in the Institute will ever fling it at you."
Richard felt better when he had told the whole truth. He confided in
his friends, and feared not his enemies. When they reached the parade
ground they saw that the mutineers had taken possession of every one of
the boats, and were sailing up the lake towards Green Island. They
dared not return to the Institute, fearing that their plan might be
discovered.
Richard was informed that arrangements had been made before he joined
them; that they intended to take all the boats, so that the instructors
could not reach them, and encamp on the island.
When the rolls were called, the absence of about fifty of the boys was
discovered by the teachers. The truth came out, and the sharp eye of
Colonel Brockridge seemed to glow with unwonted lustre.