_Parolles_.--I find my tongue is too foolhardy.
All's Well that Ends Well, Act four, scene 1.
The Famulus--"familiar"--as the boys called him, directed Walter across
the court to the rooms of his housekeeper, who informed him about the
places where his clothes and his play-boxes would be kept, and the
dormitory where he was to sleep. She also gave him a key of the desk in
the great schoolroom, in which he might, if he chose, keep his portable
property. She moreover announced, with some significance, that she
should be glad to do anything for him which lay in her humble power, and
that the day after to-morrow was her birthday. Walter was a little
puzzled as to the relevancy of the latter piece of information. He
learnt it at a subsequent period, when he also discovered that Mrs
Higgins found it to her interest to have periodical birthdays, recurring
two or three times at least every half-year. The years which must have
passed over that good lady's head during Walter's stay at Saint
Winifred's--the premature rapidity with which old age must have
subsequently overtaken her, and the vigour which she displayed at so
advanced a period of life--were something quite extraordinary of their
kind.
Towards the great schoolroom Walter accordingly directed his steps. The
key turned out to be quite superfluous, for the hasp of the lock had
been broken by Walter's predecessor, who had also left the trace of his
name, his likeness, and many interesting though inexplicable designs and
hieroglyphics, with a red-hot poker, on the lid. The same gentleman, to
judge by appearances, must have had a curious entomological collection
of spiders and earwigs under his protection, and had bequeathed to
Walter a highly miscellaneous legacy of rubbish. Walter contemplated
his bequest with some dismay, and began busily to dust the interior of
the desk, and make it as fit a receptacle as he could for his writing
materials and other personal possessions.
While thus engaged he could not help being secretly tickled by the
proceedings of a group of boys standing round the large unlighted stove,
and amusing themselves, harmlessly for the most part, with the
inexperience and idiosyncrasies of various newcomers. After tiring
themselves with the freaks of a mad Irish boy who had entered into the
spirit of his own cross-examination with a high sense of buffoonery
which refused to grow ill-tempered, they were now playing on the extreme
gullibility of a heavy, open-mouthed, bullet-headed fellow, named
Plumber, from whom the most astounding information could extract no
greater evidence of sensation than a little wider stare of the eyes, and
an unexcited drawl of "Really though?" One of the group, named
Henderson, a merry-looking boy with a ceaseless pleasant twinkle of the
eyes, had been taxing his own invention to the uttermost without in the
least exciting Plumber's credulity.
"You saw the fellow who let you in at the school gates, Plumber?" said
Henderson. "Yes; I saw someone or other."
"But did you notice him particularly?"
"No, I didn't notice him."
"Well, you should have done. That man's called `the Familiar.' Ask
anyone if he isn't? But do you know why?"
"No," said Plumber.
"It's because he's got a familiar spirit which waits on him," said
Henderson mysteriously.
"Really though," said Plumber, and this time he looked so frightened
that it was impossible for the rest to avoid bursting into a fit of
laughter, during which Plumber, vaguely comprehending that he was
considered a very good joke, retired with discomfiture.
"You fools," said Henderson; "if you'd only given me a little more time
I'd have made him believe that Lane had a tail, and wore his gown to
conceal it, except when he used it to flog with; and that before being
entered he would have to sing a song standing on his head. You've quite
spoilt my game by bursting out laughing."
"There's another new fellow," said Kenrick, one of the group. "Come
here, you new fellow!" called two or three of them.
Walter looked up, thinking that he was addressed, but found that the
summons was meant for a boy, rather good-looking but very slender, whose
self-important attitude and supercilious look betrayed no slight amount
of vanity, and who, to the apparent astonishment of the rest, was
surveying the room and its appurtenances with a look of great
affectation and disdain.
"So you don't much seem to like the look of Saint Winifred's," said
Kenrick to him, as the boy walked up with a delicate air. "Not much,"
lisped the new boy; "everything looks so very common."
"Common and unclean to the last degree," said Henderson, imitating his
manner.
"And is this the only place you have to sit in?"
"O, by no means," said Henderson; "each of us has a private apartment
furnished in crimson and gold, according to the simple yet elegant taste
of the owner. Our meals are there served to us by kneeling domestics on
little dishes of silver."
"I suppose you intend that for wit," said the new boy languidly.
"Yes; to do you, to wit," answered Henderson; "but seriously though,
that would be a great deal more like what you have been accustomed to,
wouldn't it, my friend?"
"Very much more," said the boy.
"And would you politely favour this company," said Henderson, with
obsequious courtesy, "by revealing to us your name?"
"My name is Howard Tracy."
"Oh, indeed!" said Henderson, with an air of great satisfaction, and
making a low bow.
"I am called Howard Tracy because I am descended lineally from both
those noble families."
"My goodness! are you really!" said Henderson, clasping his hands in
mock transport. "My dear sir, you are an honour to your race and
country! you are an honour to this school. By Jove, we are proud, sir,
to have you among us!"
"Perhaps you may not know that my uncle is the Viscount Saint George,"
said Tracy patronisingly.
"Is he, though, by George!" said Henderson yawning. "Is that Saint
George who--
"`Swinged the dragon, and e'er since
Sits on his horseback at mine hostess' door?'"
But finding that the boy's vanity was too obtuse to be amusing any
longer, he was about to leave him to the rest, when Jones caught sight
of Walter, and called out:--
"Halloa, here's a new fellow grinning at the follies of his kind. Come
here, you dark-haired chap. What's your name?"
"Evson," said Walter, quietly approaching them. Before getting any fun
out of him it was necessary to see what kind of boy he was; and as Jones
hardly knew what line to take, he began on the commonest and most vulgar
tack of catechising him about his family and relations. "What's your
father?"
"My father is a gentleman," said Walter, rather surprised at the
rudeness of the question.
"And where do you live?"
"At Semlyn."
"And how old are you?"
"Just thirteen."
"And how many sisters have you?"
Walter rather thought of asking, "What's that to you?" but as he saw no
particular harm in answering the question, and did not want to seem too
stiff-backed, he answered, "Three."
"And are they very beautiful?"
"I don't know; I never asked them. Are yours?" This last question was
so perfectly quiet and unexpected, and Jones was so evidently
discomfited by it, that the rest burst into a roar of laughter, and
Henderson said, "You've caught a tartar, Jones. You can't drop salt on
this bird's tail. You had better return to Plumber, or Saint George and
the dragon. Here, my noble Viscount, what do you think of your coeval?
Is he as common as the rest of us?"
"I don't think anything about him, if you mean me by Viscount," said
Tracy peevishly, beginning at last to understand that they had been
making a fool of him.
"Quite right, Saint George; he's beneath your notice." Tracy ran his
hand through his scented hair, as if he rather Implied that he was; and
being mortified at the contrast between his own credulous vanity and
Walter's manly simplicity, and anxious if possible to regain his
position, he said angrily to Walter, "What are you looking at me for?"
Not wishing to be rude, Walter turned away, while someone observed, "A
cat may look at a king."
"Ay, a cat at a king, I grant you," answered Henderson; "but not a mere
son of Eve at any Howard Tracy."
"You are laughing at me," said Tracy to Walter again, in a still angrier
tone, seeing Walter smile at Henderson's remark.
"I've not the slightest wish to laugh at you," said Walter.
"Yes he has. Shy this at him," said Jones, putting a great bit of
orange peel into Tracy's hand.
Tracy threw it at Walter, and he without hesitation picked it up, and
flung it back in Tracy's face.
"A fight! a fight!" shouted the mischief-making group, as Tracy made a
blind blow at Walter, which his antagonist easily parried.
"Make him fight you. Challenge him," said Jones. "Invite him to the
milling-ground behind the chapel after first school to-morrow morning."
"Pistols for _two_, coffee for four, at eight to-morrow," said
Henderson. "Trample on the Dragon's tail, someone, and rouse him to the
occasion. What! he won't come to the scratch? Alack! alack!
"`What can ennoble fools or cowards
Not all the blood of all the Tracys, Dragons, and Howards!'"
He continued mischievously, as he saw that Tracy, on taking note of
Walter's compact figure, showed signs of declining the combat.
"Hush, Henderson," said Kenrick, one of the group who had taken no part
in the talk; "it's a shame to be setting two new fellows fighting their
first evening."
But Henderson's last remark had been too much for Tracy. "Will you
fight?" he said, walking up to Walter with reddening cheeks. For Tracy
had been to school before, and was no novice in the ways of boys.
"Certainly not," said Walter coolly, to everybody's great surprise.
"What! the other chap showing the white feather, too. _All_ the new
fellows are cowards it seems this time," said Jones. "This'll never do.
Pitch into him, Tracy."
"Stop," said Kenrick; "let's hear first why he won't fight?"
"Because I see no occasion to," said Walter; "and because, in the second
place, I never could fight in cold blood; and because, in the third
place--"
"Well, what in the third place?" said Kenrick, interested to observe
Walter's hesitation.
"In the third place," said Walter, "I don't say it from conceit--but
that boy's no match for me."
To anyone who glanced at the figures of the two boys this was obvious
enough, although Walter was a year the younger of the two. The rest
began to respect Walter accordingly as a sensible little man, but Tracy
was greatly offended by the last remark, and Jones, who was a bully and
had a grudge against Walter for baffling his impertinence, exclaimed,
"Don't you be afraid, Tracy. I'll back you. Give him something to heat
his cold blood."
Fired at once by taunts and encouragements, Tracy did as he was bid, and
struck Walter on the face. The boy started angrily, and at first seemed
as if he meant to return the blow with compound interest, but suddenly
changing his intention, he seized Tracy round the waist, and in spite of
all kicking and struggling, fairly carried the humiliated descendant of
the Howards and Tracys to a far corner of the room, where, amid a shout
of laughter, he deposited him with the laconic suggestion, "Don't you be
a fool."
Walter's blood was now up, and thinking that he might as well show, from
the very first, that he was not to be bullied, or made a butt with
impunity, he walked straight to the stove, and looking full at Jones
(who had inspired him already with strong disgust), he said, "You called
me a coward just now; I'm not a coward, though I don't like fighting for
nothing. I'm not a bit afraid of _you_, though you forced that fellow
to hit me just now."
"Aren't you? Saucy young cub! Then take that," said Jones, enforcing
the remark with a box on the ear.
"And you take that," said Walter, returning the compliment with as much
energy as if he had been playing at the game of _Gif es wetter_.
Jones, astonished beyond measure, sprang forward, clenched his two
fists, squared, and blustered with great demonstrativeness. He was much
Walter's senior, and was utterly taken by surprise at his audacity; but
he seemed in no hurry to avenge the insult.
"Well," said Walter, heaving with indignation, "why don't you hit me
again?"
Jones looked at his firm and determined little assailant with some
alarm, slowly tucked up the sleeves of his coat, turned white and red,
and--didn't return the blow. The tea-bell beginning to ring at that
moment gave him a convenient excuse for breaking off the altercation.
He told his friends that he was on the point of thrashing Walter when
the bell rang, but that he thought it a shame to fight a new
fellow--"and in cold blood, too," he added, adopting Walter's language,
but not his sincerity.
"Don't call me a coward again then," said Walter to him as he turned
away.
"I say, Evson, you're a regular brick, a regular stunner," said young
Kenrick, delighted, as he showed Walter the way to the Hall where the
boys had tea. "That fellow Jones is no end of a bully, and he won't be
quite so big in future. You've taken him down a great many pegs."
"I say, Kenrick," shouted Henderson after them, "I bet you five to one I
know what you're saying to the new fellow."
"I bet you don't," said Kenrick, laughing.
"You're saying--it's a quotation, you know, but never mind--you're
saying to him, `A sudden thought strikes me: let's swear an eternal
friendship.'"
"Then you're quite out," answered Kenrick. "I was saying come and sit
next me at tea."
"And go shares in jam," added Henderson: "exactly what I said, only in
other words."