"How do you get on with the young Evson, Ra?" asked Mackworth of Wilton,
with a sneer.
"Not at all," said Wilton. "He's awfully particular and strait-laced,
just like that brother of his. No more fun while he's in the house."
"Confound him," said Mackworth, frowning darkly; "if he doesn't like
what he sees, he must lump it. He's not worth any more trouble."
"So, Mack, _you_ too have discovered what he's like."
"Yes, I have," answered Mackworth savagely. For all his polish, his
courtesies, and civilities had not succeeded in making Charlie conceal
how much he feared and disliked him. The young horse rears the first
time it hears the adder's hiss, and the dove's eye trembles
instinctively when the hawk is near. Charlie half knew and half guessed
the kind of character he had to deal with, and made Mackworth hate him
with deadly hatred by the way in which, without one particle of rudeness
or conceit, he managed to keep him at a distance, and check every
approach to intimacy.
With Kenrick the case was different. Charlie thought that he looked one
of the nicest and best fellows in the house, but he could not get over
the fact that Wilton was his favourite. It was Wilton's constant and
daily boast that Ken would do anything for him; and Charlie felt that
Wilton was not a boy whom Walter or Power at any rate would even have
tolerated, much less liked. It was this that made him receive Kenrick's
advances with shyness and coldness; and when Kenrick observed this, he
at once concluded that Charlie had been set against him by Walter, and
that he would report to Walter all he did and said. This belief was
galling to him as wormwood. Suddenly, and with most insulting
publicity, he turned Charlie off from being one of his fags, and from
that time never spoke of him without a sneer, and never spoke to him at
all.
Meanwhile, as the term advanced, Saint Winifred's gradually revealed
itself to Charlie in a more and more unfavourable light. The discipline
of the school was in a most impaired state; the evening work grew more
and more disorderly; few of the monitors did their duty with any vigour,
and the big idle fellows in the fifth set the example of insolence
towards them and rudeness to the masters. All rules were set at
defiance with impunity, and in the chaos which ensued, every one did
what was right in his own eyes.
One evening, during evening work, Charlie was trying hard to do the
verses which had been set to his form. He found it very difficult in
the noise that was going on. Not half a dozen fellows in the room were
working or attempting to work; they were talking, laughing, rattling the
desks, playing tricks on each other, and throwing books about the room.
The one bewildered new master, who nominally kept order among the two
hundred boys in the room, walked up and down in despair, speaking in
vain first to one, then to another, and almost giving up the farce of
attempting to maintain silence. But seeing Charlie seriously at work he
came up and asked if he could give him any assistance.
Charlie gratefully thanked him, and the master sat down to try and
smooth some of his difficulties. His doing so was the sign for an
audible titter, which there was no attempt to suppress; and when he had
passed on, Wilton, whose conduct had been more impertinent than that of
any one else, said to Charlie--
"I say, young Evson, how you are grinding."
"I have these verses to do," said Charlie simply.
"Ha! ha! ha!" laughed Wilton, as though he had made some good joke.
"Here, shall I give you a wrinkle?"
"Yes, if it's allowed."
The answer was greeted with another laugh, and Wilton said, "I'll save
you all further trouble, young 'un. Observe the dodge; we're all up to
it."
He put up a white handkerchief to his nose, and walking to the master
said, "Please, sir, my nose is bleeding. May I go out for a minute?"
"Your nose bleeding? That's the third time your nose has bled this
week, and other boys have also come with their noses bleeding."
"Do you doubt my word, sir?" asked Wilton, his handkerchief still held
up, and assuming an injured air.
"I should be sorry to do so until you give me reason," answered the
master, courteously. "It seems a strange circumstance, but you may go."
It would have been very easy to see whether his nose was bleeding or
not, but the master was trying, very unsuccessfully at present, whether
implicit confidence would produce a sense of honour among the boys.
Wilton went out hardly concealing his laughter, and in ten minutes
returned with the verses, finished and written out. "There," he said,
"Ken did those for me; he knocked them off in five minutes. Ken's an
awfully clever fellow, though he never opens a book. Don't bore
yourself with verses any more; I'll get them done for you."
Charlie glanced at the paper, and saw at once that the verses were
perfectly done. "Do you mean to show up that copy as your own, Wilton?"
"Of course I do."
"But we are marked for them."
"Hear! hear! thanks for the information. So much the better. I shall
get a jolly good mark."
"Shut up, young innocence, and don't be a muff," said another Noelite.
"We all do the same thing. Take what heaven sends you and be glad to
get it."
"Thank you," said Charlie, looking round; "you may, but I'd rather not.
It isn't fair."
"Oh, how good we are! how sweet we are! what an angel we are!" said
Wilton, turning up the whites of his eyes, while the rest applauded him.
But if they meant their jeers to tell on Charlie's resolution, they
were mistaken. He looked quietly round at them all with his clear eyes,
gravely handed the paper back to Wilton, and quietly resumed his work.
They were angry to be so foiled, and determined that, if he would not
copy the verses, he should at least do them in no other way. One of
them took his paper and tore it, another split his quill pens by dashing
them on the desk, while a third seized his dictionary. The master,
observing that something was going on at that desk, came and stood by;
and as long as he was there, Charlie managed to write out what he had
done, while the others, cunningly inserting an occasional mistake, or
altering a few epithets, copied out the verses which Kenrick had done
for Wilton. But directly the master turned away again, a boy on the
opposite side of the table, with the utmost deliberation, took hold of
Charlie's fair copy, and emptied the inkstand over it in three or four
separate streams.
Vexed as he was--for until this time he had never known unkindness--he
took it quietly and good-humouredly. Next morning, before the rest of
the boys in his dormitory, who were mainly in his own form, were aware
of what he meant to do, he got up early and went to Walter's study,
hoping to write out the verses there from memory. But he found the
study in the possession of the housemaid; chapel-bell rang, and after
chapel he went into morning school with the exercise unfinished. For
this, he, the only boy in the form who had attempted to do his duty,
received a punishment, while the rest looked on unabashed, and got marks
for their stolen work. Wilton received nearly full marks for his. The
master, Mr Paton's successor, thought it odd that Wilton could do his
verses so much better than any of his other work, but he could not
detect the cheating, and Wilton always assured him that the verses were
entirely his own composition.
It was about time now, Wilton thought, to hoist his true colours; but,
as he had abundance of brass, he followed Charlie out of the schoolroom,
talked to him familiarly, as if nothing had happened, and finally took
his arm. But this was too much; for the boy, who was as open as the day
in all his dealings, at once withdrew his arm, and standing still,
looked him full in the face.
"So!" said Wilton, "now take your choice--friends or enemies--which
shall it be?"
"If you want me to cheat, and tell lies, and be mean--not _friends_."
"So! enemies then, mind. Look out for squalls, young Evson. One
question, though," said Wilton, as Charlie turned away.
"Well?"
"Are you going to sneak about this to your brother?"
Charlie was silent. Without any intention of procuring Walter's
interference, he _had_ meant to talk to him about his difficulties, and
to ask his advice. But if this was to be stigmatised as sneaking he
felt that he had rather not do it, for there is no action a boy fears
more, and considers more mean than this.
"Oh, I see," said Wilton; "you _do_ mean to peach, blab, tell tales, do
you? Well, it don't matter much; you'll find he can do precious little;
and it will be all the worse for you in the long-run."
"I shan't tell him," said Charlie, shortly; and those words sealed his
lips, as with a heavy heart he entered the breakfast-room, and meditated
on troubles to come.
Which troubles came quite fast enough--very fast indeed. For the house,
or rather the leading spirits in it, thought that they had wasted quite
enough time, and with quite sufficient success in angling for the new
boys, and determined to resume without any further delay their ordinary
courses. If Charlie was fool enough to resist them, they said, so much
the worse for him. During the day, indeed, he was saved from many of
the annoyances which Walter had been obliged to endure, by escaping from
the Great Schoolroom to the happy and quiet refuge of Walter's, or
Power's or Eden's study. There he could always be unmolested, and enjoy
the kindness with which he was treated, and the cheerful, healthy
atmosphere which contrasted so strangely in its moral sweetness with the
turbid and polluted air of Noelite society. But in the evening at
Preparation, and afterwards in the dormitories, he was wholly at the
mercy of that bad confederacy which had tried to mould him to its own
will. He was in a large dormitory of ten boys, and as this was the
principal room in Mr Noel's house, it formed the regular refuge every
night for the idle and the mischievously inclined. When the candles
were put out at bed-time it was seldom long before they were relit in
this room--which was somewhat remote from the others, at the end of a
long corridor, and of which the window opened on a secluded part of Dr
Lane's garden. If a scout were placed at the end of the corridor he
could give timely warning of any danger, so that the chance of detection
was very small. Had the candles been relit only for a game of play,
Charlie would have been the first to join in the fun. But the Noelites
were far too vitiated in taste to be long content with mere bolstering
or harmless games. It seemed to Charlie that the candles were relit
chiefly for the purpose of eating and drinking forbidden things, of
playing cards, or of bullying and tormenting those boys who were least
advanced in general wickedness.
"I say, young Evson," said Wilton to him one night soon after the fracas
above narrated, "we're going to have some fun to-night. Stone, like a
brick as he is, has stood a couple of bottles of wine, and Hanley some
cards. We shall have a smoke too."
All this was said in a tone of braggadocio, meant to be exceedingly
telling, but it only made Charlie feel that he loathed this swaggering
little boy with his premature _savoir vivre_, more and more. He
understood, too, the hint that two of the new fellows had contributed to
the house carousal, and fully expected that he would be asked next. He
secretly, however, determined to refuse, because he knew well that a
mere harmless feast was not intended, but rather a smoking and drinking
bout. He had subscribed liberally to all the legitimate funds--the
football, the racquet court, the gymnasium; but he saw no reason why he
should be taxed for things which he disliked and disapproved. The
result of that evening confirmed him in his resolution. It was a scene
of drinking, gluttony, secret fear, endless squabbling, and joyless
excitement.
"Of course you'll play, and put into the pool?" said Wilton.
"No, thank you."
"No, _thank you_," said Wilton, scornfully mimicking his tone. "Of
course not; you'll do nothing except set yourself up for a saint, and
make yourself disagreeable."
During the evening Stone brought him some wine, which Charlie again
declined, with "No, thank you, Stone." Wilton again echoed the refusal,
which was chorused by a dozen others; and from that time Charlie was
duly dubbed with the nickname of "No-thank-you." He was forcibly
christened by this new name, by being held in bed while half a
wine-glass of port was thrown in his face. The wine poured down and
stained his night-shirt, and then they all began to dread that it would
lead to their being discovered, and threatened Charlie with endless
penalties if he dared to tell. There was, however, little danger, as
the Noelites had bribed the servants who waited on them and cleaned
their rooms.
The same scene, with slight variations, was constantly repeated, and
every fresh refusal was accompanied by a kick or a cuff from the bigger
boys, a sneer or an insult from the younger; for Charlie himself was one
of the youngest of them all. One night it was, "I say, you fellow--you,
No-thank-you--will you fork out for some wine to-night? No? Well then,
take that and that, and be hung to you for a little muff." Another time
it would be, "Hi there, No-thank-you--we want sixpence for a pack of
cards. Oh, you won't be so sinful as to part with sixpence for cards?
Confounded little miser;" "Niggard," said another; "Skinflint," shouted
a third. And a general cry of "Saint," which expressed the climax of
villainy, ended the verbal portion of the contest. And then, some one
would slap him on the cheek, with "take that", "and that," from another,
"and that," from a third--the last being a boot or a piece of soap shied
at his head.
It cannot be more wearisome to the reader than it is to me to linger in
these coarse scenes; but, for Charlie, it was a long martyrdom most
heroically borne. He was almost literally alone and single-handed
against the rest of the house; yet he would not give way. Walter, and
Power, and Henderson, all knew that he was bullied, sorely bullied; this
they learnt far more from Eden, and from other sources, than from
Charlie himself, for he, poor child, held himself bound by his promise
to Wilton, and kept his lips resolutely sealed. But these friends knew
that he was suffering for conscience sake; and Walter helped him with
tender, brotherly affection, and Power with brave words and kindly
sympathy, as well as by noble example, and Henderson by his cheering and
playful manner; and this caused him much happiness all day long, until
he felt that, with that short but heart-uttered prayer which he breathed
so earnestly from "the altar of his own bedside," he had strength
sufficient to meet and to conquer the trials which night brought.
In the house one boy and one only helped him. That boy _ought_ to have
been Kenrick; his monitorial authority and many responsible privileges
were entrusted to him, as he well knew, for the main express purpose of
putting down all immorality, and all cruelty, with a strong and
remorseless hand. It required very little courage to do this; the
sympathies of the majority of boys, unless they be suffered to grow
corrupted with an evil leaven, are naturally and strongly on the side of
right. In Mr Robertson's house, for instance, where Walter and
Henderson were monitors, such wrong-doings could not have gone on with
impunity, or rather could not have gone on at all. There, a little boy,
treated with gross severity or injustice, would not have hesitated for
an instant to invoke the assistance of the monitors, whom he looked upon
as his natural guardians, and who would be eager to extend to him a
generous and efficient protection.
The same was the case in Mr Edwardes's house, of which Power was the
head. Power, indeed, had no coadjutor on whom he could at all rely.
One of the monitors associated with him was Legrange, who rather
followed Kenrick's lead, and the other was Brown, who, though
well-intentioned, was a boy of no authority. Yet these two houses were
in a better condition than any others in the school, because the heads
of them did their duty; and it was no slight credit to Walter and
Henderson that their house stood higher in character than any other,
although it contained both Harpour and Jones. This could not have been
the case had not those two worthies found a powerful counterpoise in two
other fifth-form fellows, Franklin and Cradock, whose excellence was
almost solely due to Walter's influence. Kenrick, on the other hand,
never interfered in the house, and let things go on exactly as they
liked, although they were going to rack and ruin.
Charlie's sole friend and helper in the house then was, not Kenrick, but
Bliss. Poor Bliss quite belied his name, for his school work, in which
he never could by any effort succeed, kept him in a state of lugubrious
disappointment. Bliss lived a dim kind of life, seeing all sorts of
young boys get above him and beat him in the race, and vaguely groping
in thick mental darkness. Do what he could the stream of knowledge fled
from his tantalised lip whenever he stooped to drink; and the fruits,
which others plucked easily, sprang up out of his reach when he tried to
touch the bough. He was constantly crushed by a desolating sense of his
own stupidity; and yet his good temper was charming under all his
trials, and he loved with a grateful humility all who tolerated his
shortcomings. For this reason he had a sincere affection for Henderson,
who plagued him, indeed, incessantly, but never in an unkind or
insulting way; and who more than made up for the teasing by patient and
constant help, without which Bliss would not have succeeded even as well
as he did. Bliss was a strong active fellow, and good at the games, so
that with most of the school he got on very well; but, nevertheless, he
was generally set down as nearly half-witted--a mere dolt. Dolt or not,
he did Charlie inestimable service; and if any boy is in like case with
Bliss, let him take courage, for even the merest dolt has immense power
for good as well as for harm, and Bliss extended to Charlie a gentle and
manly sympathy which many a clever boy might have envied. He knew that
Charlie was ill-used. Not being in the same dormitory, and joining very
little in the house concerns, he was not able to interfere very directly
in his aid; but he never failed to encourage him to resist iniquity of
every kind. "Hold out, young Evson," he would often say to him; "you're
a good, brave little chap, and don't give in; you're in the right and
they in the wrong; and right is might, be sure of that."
It was something in those days to meet with approbation for well-doing
among the Noelites; and Charlie, with genuine gratitude, never forgot
Bliss's kind support; till Bliss left Saint Winifred's they continued
firm friends and fast.
"Have you made any friends in the house?" asked Mr Noel of Charlie on
one occasion; for he often seized an opportunity of talking to his
younger boys, for whom he felt a sincere interest, and whom he would
gladly have shielded from temptation to the very utmost of his power,
had he but known that of which he was unhappily so ignorant--the bad
state of things among the boys under his care.
"Not many, sir," said Charlie.
"Haven't you? I'm sorry to hear that. I like to see boys forming
friendships for future life; and there are some very nice fellows in the
house. Wilton, for instance, don't you like him? He's very idle and
volatile, I know, but still he seems to me a pleasant boy."
Charlie could hardly suppress a smile, but said nothing; and Mr Noel
continued, "Who is your chief friend, Evson, among my boys?"
"Bliss, sir," said Charlie, with alacrity.
"Bliss!" answered Mr Noel in surprise. "What makes you like him so
much? Is he not very backward and stupid?"
But Charlie would not hear a word against Bliss, and speaking with all
the open trustfulness of a new boy, he exclaimed, "O sir, Bliss is an
excellent fellow; I wish there were many more like him; he's a capital
fellow, sir, I like him very much; he's the best fellow in the house,
and the only one who stands by me when I am in trouble."
"Well, I'm glad you've found _one_ friend, Evson," said Mr Noel; "no
matter who he is."
One way in which Bliss showed his friendship was by going privately to
Kenrick, and complaining of the way in which Charlie was bullied. "Why
don't you interfere, Kenrick?" he asked.
"Interfere, pooh! It will do the young cub good; he's too conceited, by
half."
"I never saw a little fellow _less_ conceited, anyhow."
Kenrick stared at him. "What business is it of yours, I should like to
know?"
"It _is_ business of mine; he is a good little fellow, and he's only
kicked because the others can't make him as bad a lot as they are
themselves; there's that Wilton--"
"Shut up about Wilton, he's a friend of mine."
"Then more shame for you," said Bliss.
"He's worth fifty such chickens as little Evson, any day."
"Chickens!" said Bliss, with a tone as nearly like contempt as he had
ever assumed; "it's clear you don't know much about him; I wish,
Kenrick, you'd do your duty more, and then the house would not be so bad
as it is."
Kenrick opened his eyes wide; he had never heard Bliss speak like this
before. "I don't want the learned, the clever, the profound Bliss to
teach _me my_ duty," he said, with a proud sneer; "what business have
you to abuse the house, because it is not full of young ninnies like
Evson? You're no monitor of mine, let me tell you."
"You may sneer, Kenrick, at my being stupid, if you like; but, for all
your cleverness, I wouldn't be you for something; and if you won't
interfere, as you ought, _I will_, if I can." And as Bliss said this,
with clear flaming anger, and fixed on Kenrick his eyes, which were
lighted up with honest purpose, Kenrick thought he had never seen him
look so handsome, or so fine a fellow. "Yes, even _he_ is superior to
me now," he thought, with a sigh, as Bliss left the room. Poor Ken--
there was no unhappier boy at Saint Winifred's; as he ate and ate of
those ashy fruits of sin, they grew more and more dusty and bitter to
his parched taste; as he drank of that napthaline river of wayward
pride, it scorched his heart and did _not_ quench his thirst.