I hate when vice can bolt her arguments,
And virtue have no tongue to check her pride.
Milton's Comus.
Next morning, after second school, Power went to see how Eden and Walter
were getting on. He opened the door softly, and they did not observe
his entrance.
Eden, very pale, and with an expression of pain and terror still
reflected in his face, lay in a broken and restless sleep. Walter was
sitting as still as death at the head of the bed. A book lay on his
knees, but he had not been reading. He was in a "brown study," and the
dreamy far-off look with which his eyes were fixed upon vacancy showed
how his thoughts had wandered. It was the same look which attracted
Power's attention when he first saw Walter in chapel, and which had
shown him that he was no common boy. It often made him watch Walter,
and wonder what _could_ be occupying his thoughts.
It was looking at poor little Eden that had suggested to Walter's mind
the train of thought into which he had fallen. As he saw the child
tossing uneasily about, waking every now and then to half-consciousness
with a violent start, occasionally delirious, and to all appearances
seriously ill--as he thought over Dr Keith's remark, that even when he
was quite well again his nervous system would be probably found to have
received a shock of which the effects would _never_ be obliterated
during life, he could not help fretting very bitterly over the injury
and suffering of his friend. And his own spirits were greatly shaken.
It was of little matter that every time he raised his hand to cool his
forehead, or ease the throbbing of his head, he felt how much he was
bruised, cut, and swollen, or that the looking-glass showed him a face
so hideously disfigured; he knew that this would grow right in a day or
two, and he cared nothing for it. But when Harpour's blow knocked him
down, he had dashed his head with some violence on the floor, and this
had hurt him so much and made him feel so ill, that Dr Keith was not
without secret fears about the possibility of a concussion of the brain.
Yet all the sorrow which Walter now felt was for Eden, and he was not
thinking of himself.
He was mentally staring face to face at the mystery of human cruelty and
malice. The little boy, whose fine qualities so few besides himself had
discovered, was lying before him in pain and nervous prostration, solely
because malignant unkindness seemed to give pleasure to two bad, brutal
fellows. Walter had himself rescued Eden by his consistent kindness
from being bullied, corrupted, tormented--yet apparently to little
purpose. That the poor boy's powers would be decidedly injured by this
last prank, was certain. Dr Keith had dropped mysterious hints, and
Walter had himself heard how wild and incoherent were Eden's murmurs.
If he should become an idiot? O God! that men and boys should have
_such_ hearts!
And then and there Walter, while yet a boy, solemnly and consciously
recorded an unspoken vow that _he_ at least, till death, would do all
that lay in his own power to lighten, not to increase, the sum of human
misery; that he would study all things that were kind, and gentle, and
tender-hearted, in his dealings with others; that he would ever be on
the watch against wounding thoughts, and uncharitable judgments, and
unkind deeds; above all, that he would strive with all his power against
the temptation to cutting and sarcastic words, against calumny, and
misrepresentation, against envy, hatred, malice, and all
uncharitableness. These were the noble thoughts and high resolves which
were passing through the boy's mind when Power's quiet footstep entered
the room.
Power stopped for a minute to look at the somewhat saddening picture in
the darkened room--Walter, still as death, deep in thought, his chin
leaning on his hand, and his face presenting an uncouth mixture of
shapes and colours as he sat by Eden's bedside; and Eden turning and
moaning in an unrefreshing sleep.
Walter started from his reverie and smiled, as Power noiselessly
approached.
"My poor Walter, how marked you are!"
"Oh, never mind, it's nothing. I had a good cause, and it's done good."
"Poor fellow! But how's Arty? He looks wretchedly ill."
"He's in a sad way I'm afraid, Power," said Walter, shaking his head.
"I hope he'll be all right soon."
"Yes, I hope so; but we shall have to take great care of him."
"Poor child, poor child!" said Power, bending over him compassionately.
"Has Flip told Somers of Harpour?" asked Walter.
"I don't know whether you are quite up to hearing school news yet."
"O yes! tell me all about it," said Walter eagerly.
"Well, I've no good news to tell. It's a case of _ponos ponoo ponon
pherei_, as Percival said when I told him about you and Eden. By the
by, he sent all sorts of kind messages, and will come and see you."
"Thanks; but about Harpour?"
"Well, Flip meant to tell Somers, but the whole thing spread over the
school at once, before morning chapel was well over; so, Dimock being
head of Robertson's house, thought it was _his_ place to take it up. He
sent for Harpour in the classroom, and told him he meant to cane him for
his abominable, ruffianly conduct; but before he'd begun, Harpour seized
hold of the cane, and wouldn't let it go. Luckily Dimock didn't fly
into a rage, nor did he let himself down by a fight, which Harpour
wanted to bring on. He simply let go of the cane quite coolly, and
said, `Very well, Harpour, it would have been a good deal the best for
you to have taken quietly the caning you so thoroughly deserve; as you
don't choose to do that, I shall put the matter in Somers' hands. I'm
glad to be rid of the responsibility.'"
"Did it end there?"
"Not a bit of it; the school are in a ferment. You know the present
monitors, and particularly Somers, aren't popular; now Harpour _is_
popular, although he's such a brute, because he's a great swell at
cricket and the games. I'm afraid we shall have a regular monitorial
row. The monitors have convened a meeting this morning to decide about
Harpour; and, to tell you the truth, I shouldn't wonder if the school
got up a counter-meeting."
"Don't any of the masters know about Eden?"
"Not officially, though I should think some rumours must have got to
them."
"But surely it's very odd that the school should side with Jones and
Harpour, after the shameful mischief they've done?"
"Odd, _a priori_; but lots of things always combine to make up a school
opinion, you know the fellows just catch up what they hear first. But
who do you think is foremost champion on the school side--stirring them
up to resist, abusing you, abusing Flip, abusing the monitors, and
making light of Harpour's doings?"
Walter asked "Who?" but he knew beforehand that Power's answer would
be--
"Kenrick!"
After this he said nothing, but put his hand wearily to his head, which
in his weak state, was aching violently with the excitement of the news
which Power had told him.
"Ah, I see, Walter, you're not quite well enough yet to be bothered.
I'll leave you quiet. Good-bye."
"Good-bye. Do come again soon, and tell me how things go on."
Strolling out from the sad sickroom into the court, Power was attracted
into the great schoolroom by the sound of angry voices. Entering, he
found half the school, and all the lower forms, collected round the
large desk at which the headmaster usually sat. A great many were
talking at once, and every tongue was engaged in discussing the
propriety, in this instance, of any monitorial interference.
"Order, order," shouted one or two of the few fifth-form fellows
present; "let's have the thing managed properly. Who'll take the
chair?"
There was a general call for Kenrick, and as he was one of the highest
fellows in the room, he got into the chair, and amid a general silence
delivered his views of the present affair.
"You all know," he said, "that Dimock meant to cane Harpour because he
played off a joke against one of the fellows last night. Harpour
refused to take the caning, and the monitors are holding a meeting this
morning to decide what to do about Harpour. Now _I_ maintain that
they've no right to do anything; and it's very important that we
shouldn't let them have just their own way. The thing was merely a
joke. Who thinks anything of just putting on a mask in fun, to startle
another fellow? One constantly hears of its being done merely to raise
a laugh, and we must all have often seen pictures of it. Of course, in
this case, every one is extremely sorry for the consequences, but it was
impossible to foresee _them_, and nobody has any right to judge of the
act because it has turned out so unluckily. I vote that we put the
question--`Have the monitors any right to interfere?'"
Loud applause greeted the end of Kenrick's speech, and the little bit at
the end about separating an act from its consequences told wonderfully
among the boys. They raised an almost unanimous cry of "Well done,
Ken", "Quite right", "Harpour shan't be caned."
Henderson had been watching Kenrick with an expression of intense anger
and disdain. At the end of his remarks, he sprang, rather than rose, up
and immediately began to pour out an impetuous answer. His first words,
before the fellows had observed that he meant to speak, were drowned in
the general uproar; and when they had all caught sight of him, an
expression of decided disapprobation ran round the throng of listeners.
It did not make him swerve in the slightest degree. Looking round
scornfully and steadily, he said--
"I know why some of you hiss. You think I told Dimock of Harpour. As
it happens I _didn't_; but I'm neither afraid nor ashamed to tell you
all, as I told Harpour to his face, that I had fully intended to do it--
or rather I meant to tell, not Dimock, but Somers. _Will_ you let me
speak?" he asked, angrily, as his last sentence was interrupted by a
burst of groans, commenced by a few of those whose interests were most
at stake, and taken up by the mass of ignorant boys.
Power plucked Henderson by the sleeve, and whispered, "Hush, Flip; go
on, but keep your temper."
"I've as much right to speak--if this is meant for a school meeting--as
Kenrick or any one else; and what I have to say is this: Kenrick has
been merely throwing dust into your eyes, misleading you altogether
about the true state of the case. It's all very fine, and very easy for
him to talk so lightly of its being `a joke,' and `a bit of fun,' and so
on; but I should like to ask him whether he believes that? and whether
he's not just hunting for popularity, and mixing up with it a few
private spites? and whether he's not thoroughly ashamed of himself at
this moment? There! you may see that he is," continued Henderson,
pointing at him; "see how he is blushing scarlet, and looking the very
picture of degradation."
Here Kenrick started up and most irascibly informed Henderson that he
wasn't going to sit there and be slanged by him, and that as he was in
the chair, he would not let Henderson go on any more unless he cut short
his abuse; and while Kenrick was saying this, in which he entirely
carried the meeting with him, Power again whispered, "You're getting too
personal, Flip; but go on, only say no more about Kenrick--though I'm
afraid it's all true."
"Well, at any rate, I will say this," continued Henderson, whose flow of
words was rather stopped by his having been pulled up so often--"and I
ought to know, for I was in the room at the time, and I appeal to
Anthony and Franklin, and all the rest of the dormitory, to say if it
isn't true. It _wasn't_ a joke. It wasn't _meant_ for a joke. It was
a piece of deliberate, diabolical--"
"Oh! oh! oh!" began a few of Harpour's claqueurs, and the chorus was
again swelled by a score of others.
"I repeat it--of deliberate, diabolical cruelty, chosen just because
there was nothing more cruel they dared to do. And," he said, speaking
at the top of his voice, to make himself heard over the clamour, "the
fellows who did it are a disgrace to Saint Winifred's, and they deserve
to be caned by the monitors, if any fellows ever did."
He sat down amid a storm of disapprobation, but his look never quailed
for an instant, as he glanced steadily round, and noticed how Kenrick,
though in favour with the multitude, and so much higher in the school,
did not venture to meet his eye. And he was more than compensated for
the general disfavour, by feeling Power's hand rest on his shoulder, and
hearing him whisper, "That's _famous_, Flip; you're a dear plucky
fellow. Walter himself couldn't have done it more firmly."
Then Belial-like, rose Mackworth, perfectly at his ease, intending as
much general mischief as lay in his power, and bent on saying as many
unpleasant things as he could. In this, however, his benevolent views
were materially frustrated by Henderson, who made his contemptuous
comments in a tone sufficiently loud to be heard by many, and quite
distinctly enough to disconcert Mackworth's oratory.
"As the gentleman who has just sat down has poured so many bottles of
wrath--"
"Bottles of French varnish," suggested Henderson--"on our heads
generally, I must be allowed to make a few remarks in reply. His speech
consisted of nothing but rabid abuse; without a shred of
argument."--"Rabid fact without a shred of fudge," interpolated
Henderson.
"If for every trifling freak fellows were to be telling the monitors, we
had better inaugurate at once the era of sneaks and cowards."
"Era of sham polish and fiddlestick ends," echoed Henderson; and
Mackworth, who had every intention of making a very flourishing speech,
was so disconcerted by this unwonted pruning of his periods, that he
somewhat abruptly sat down, muttering anathemas on Henderson, and
flustered quite out of his usual bland manner.
"Something has been said about cowardice and sneaking," said Whalley,
getting up. "I should like to know whether you think it more cowardly
to fight a fellow twice one's size, and to mark him pretty considerably
too" (a remark which Whalley unceremoniously emphasised by pointing at
Harpour's black eye), "or to lay a plot to frighten in the dark a mere
child, very nervous and very timid, who has never harmed any one in his
life."
Next, Howard Tracy, addressing the meeting, running his hand
occasionally through his hair, "would put the question on a different
footing altogether. As to what had been done to Eden, he stood on
neutral ground, and gave no opinion. But who, he asked, were these
monitors that they should thrash _any one at all_? He had never heard
that they were of particularly good families, or that they had anything
whatever which gave them a claim to interfere with other fellows. The
question was, whether a parcel of monitors were to domineer over the
school?"
"The question was nothing of the kind!" said Franklin very bluntly; "it
was, whether big bullies, like Harpour, were to be at perfect liberty to
frighten fellows into idiots or beat them into mummies, at their own
will and pleasure? That was the only question. Harpour or Somers--
bullies or monitors--which will you have, boys?"
And after this arose a perfect hubbub of voices. Some got up and
ridiculed the monitors; others extolled Harpour, and tried to make out
that he was misused for being called to account for a mere frolic;
others taunted Evson and Henderson with a conspiracy against their
private enemies. On the whole, they were nearly unanimous in agreeing
that the school should prevent the monitors from any exercise of their
authority.
And then, in the midst of the hubbub, Power rose, "in act more
graceful," and there was an immediate and general call for silence. To
the great majority of the boys, Power was hardly known except by name
and by sight; but his school successes, his rare ability, his stainless
character, and many personal advantages, commanded for him the highest
admiration. His numerous slight acquaintances in the school all liked
his pleasant and playful courtesy, and were proud to know him; his few
friends entertained for him an almost extravagant affection. His
ancient name, his good family, and the respect due to his high position
in the school, would alone have been sufficient to gain him a favourable
hearing; but, besides this, he had hitherto come forward so little, that
there was a strong curiosity to see what line he would take, and how he
would be able to speak. There were indeed a few who were most anxious
to silence him as quickly as possible, knowing what effect his words
would be likely to produce; and when he began, they raised several noisy
interruptions; but Kenrick, for very shame, was obliged at first to
demand for him the attention which, after the first sentence or two, his
quiet, conciliatory, and persuasive manner effectually secured.
Reviewing the whole tumultuary discussion, he began by answering
Kenrick. After alluding to the long course of bullying which had been
ended in this manner, he appealed to the common sense of the meeting
whether the thing could be regarded as a mere joke, when they remembered
Eden's tender age and highly susceptible nature? Was it not certain,
and must it not have been obvious to the bullies, that serious, if not
desperately dangerous results _must_ follow? What those results had
been was well-known, and in describing what he had seen of them in the
sickroom only half an hour before, Power made a warm appeal to their
feelings of pity and indignation--an appeal which every one felt to be
manly, and which could not fail of being deeply touching, because it was
both simple and natural.
"Then," said Power, "the next speaker talked about sneaking and
cowardice. Well, those charges had been sufficiently answered by
Whalley, and, indeed, on behalf of his friends Evson and Henderson, he
perhaps need hardly condescend to answer them at all. His friend
Henderson had been long enough among them to need no defence, and if he
_did_, it would be sufficiently supplied by the high courage, of which
they had just seen a specimen. As for Evson, any boy who had given as
many proofs of honour and manliness as _he_ had done during his two
terms at Saint Winifred's, certainly required no one's shield to be
thrown over _him_. Would any of them show their courage by walking
across the Razor on some dark foggy winter's night? and would they find
in the school any other fellow of Evson's age who would not shrink from
standing up in a regular fair fight with another of twice his own
strength and size? Those charges he thought he might throw to the
winds; he was sure that no one believed them; but there was, he
admitted, one cowardice of which his two friends had often been guilty,
and it was a cowardice for which they need not blush; he meant the
cowardice, the arrant, the noble cowardice of being afraid _not_ to do
what they thought right, and of being afraid to do what they _knew_ to
be base and wrong."
In these remarks Power quite carried his audience away with him; the
strain was of a higher mood than boys had often heard from boys, and it
was delivered with an eloquence and earnestness that raised a continuous
applause. This, however, Power checked by going on speaking until he
was obliged to stop and take breath; but _then_ it burst out in the most
unmistakable and enthusiastic manner, and entirely drowned the few and
timid counter-demonstrations of the Jones and Mackworth school.
"Now I have detained you too long," said Power, "and I apologise for it
(Go on! go on! shouted the boys); but as so _many_ have spoken on the
other side, and so few on this, perhaps you will excuse me (Yes, yes!)
Well, then, Tracy has asked, `Who are the monitors? and what right have
they to interfere?' I answer, that the monitors are our schoolfellows,
and are simply representatives of the most mature form of public school
opinion. They have all been lower boys; they have all worked their way
up to the foremost place; they are, in short, the oldest, the cleverest,
the strongest, and the wisest among us; And their right depends on an
authority voluntarily delegated to them by the masters, by our parents,
and by ourselves--a right originally founded on justice and common
sense, and venerable by very many years of prestige and of success. At
any rate, a fellow who behaves as Harpour has done, has the _least_
right to complain of this exercise of a higher authority. If he had a
right--and he has no right except brute strength, if that be a right--to
bully, beat, torment, and perhaps injure for life a poor little
inoffensive child, and by doing so to render the name of the school
infamous, I maintain that the monitors, who have the interest of the
school most at heart, who are ranged _ex officio_ on the side of truth,
of justice, and of honour, have infinitely more right to thrash him for
it. Supposing that there were no monitors, what would the state of the
school be? above all, what would be the condition of the younger and
weaker boys? they would be the absolutely defenceless prey of a most
odious tyranny. Let me say then, that I most distinctly and
emphatically approve of the manner in which my friends have acted; that
I envy and admire the moral courage which helped them to behave as they
did; and that if the school attempts on this occasion to resist the
legitimate and most wholesome exercise of the monitors' power, it will
suffer a deep disgrace and serious loss. I oppose Kenrick's motion with
every feeling of my heart, and with every sentiment of my mind. I think
it dangerous, I think it useless, and I think it _most unjust_."
A second burst of applause followed Power's energetic words, and
continued for several minutes. He had utterly changed the opinions of
many who were present, and Kenrick felt his entire sympathy and
admiration enlisted on behalf of his former friend. He would at the
moment have given anything to get up and retract his previous remarks
and beg pardon for them. But his pride and passion were too strong for
him, and coldly rising, he put it to the meeting, "whether they decided
that the monitors had the right to interfere or not."
Jones, Mackworth, Harpour, and others, were eagerly canvassing for
votes, and when Kenrick demanded a show of hands, a good many were
raised on their side. When the opposite question was put, at first only
Power, Henderson, Whalley, and Franklin held up their hands; but they
were soon followed by Bliss, then by Anthony and Cradock, and then by a
great many more who took courage when they saw what champions were on
their side. The hands were counted, and there was found to be an equal
number on both sides. The announcement was received with dead silence.
"The chairman of course has a casting vote," said Mackworth.
Kenrick sat still for a moment, not without an inward conflict; and
then, afraid to risk his popularity with those whom he had now adopted
as his own set, he said, rising--
"And I give it _against_ the right of the monitors."
A scene of eager partisanship and loud triumph ensued, during which
Power once more stood forward, and observed--
"You must allow me to remind you that the present meeting in no way
represents the sense of the school. I do not see a dozen boys present
who are above the lowest fifth-form; and I do earnestly entreat those
who have gained this vote not to disturb the peace and comfort of the
school by attempting a collision between themselves and the monitors,
who will certainly be supported by the nearly unanimous opinion of the
upper fifth forms."
"We shall see about that," answered Kenrick in a confident tone. "At
any rate, the vote is carried." He left the chair, and the boys broke
up into various groups, still eagerly discussing the rights and wrongs
of the question which had been stirred.
"_So_, Power," said Kenrick, with a sneer, which he assumed to hide his
real feelings, "all your fine eloquence is thrown away, you see. We've
carried the day after all, in spite of you."
"Yes, Ken," said Power, gently; "you've carried it _quocunque modo_.
How comes Kenrick to be on the same side as Jones, Mackworth, and
Harpour?"