Duncan turned up his nose, and chucked the note into the fire.
"I'd give them that answer, and no other."
"Why?"
"Because, Eric," said Duncan, with more seriousness than was usual with
him, "I can't help thinking things have gone too far lately."
"How do you mean?"
"Well, I'm no saint myself, Heaven knows; but I do think that the
fellows are worse now than I have ever known them--far worse. Your
friend Brigson reigns supreme out of the studies; he has laid down a law
that _no work_ is to be done down stairs ever under any pretence, and
it's only by getting into one of the studies that good little chaps like
Wright can get on at all. Even in the classrooms there's so much row
and confusion that the mere thought of work is ridiculous."
"Well, there's no great harm in a little noise, if that's all."
"But it isn't all. The talk of nearly the whole school is getting most
blackguardly; shamelessly so. Only yesterday Wildney was chatting with
Vernon up here (you were out, or Vernon would not have been here) while
I was reading; they didn't seem to mind me, and I'm sure you'd have been
vexed to the heart if you'd heard how they talked to each other. At
last I couldn't stand it any longer, and bouncing up, I boxed both their
ears smartly, and kicked them down stairs."
As Eric said nothing, Duncan continued, "And I wish it ended in talk,
but--"
"But I believe you're turning Owenite. Why, bless me, we're only
schoolboys; it'll be lots of time to turn saint some other day."
Eric was talking at random, and in the spirit of opposition. "You don't
want to make the whole school such a muffish set as the Rosebuds, do
you?"
There was something of assumed bravado in Eric's whole manner which
jarred on Duncan exceedingly. "Do as you like," he said curtly, and
went into another study.
Immediately after came a rap at the door, and in walked Wildney, as he
often did after the rest were gone to bed, merely slipping his trousers
over his night-shirt, and running up to the studies.
"Well, you'll come to the Anti-muffs, won't you?" he said.
"To that pestilential place again?--not I."
Wildney looked offended. "Not after we've all asked you? The fellows
won't half like your refusing."
He had touched Eric's weak point.
"Do come," he said, looking up in Eric's face.
"Confound it all," answered Eric, hastily. "Yes, I've no friends, I'll
come, Charlie. Anything to please you, boy."
"That's a brick. Then I shall cut down and tell the fellows. They'll
be no end glad. No friends! what bosh! why, all the school like you."
And he scampered off, leaving Eric ill at ease.
Duncan didn't re-enter the study that evening.
The next day, about half-past four, Eric found himself on the way to
Ellan. As he was starting, Ball caught him up and said--
"Are you going to the Anti-muffs?"
"Yes; why? are you going too?"
"Yes; do you mind our going together?"
"Not at all."
In fact, Eric was very glad of some one--no matter who--to keep him in
countenance, for he felt considerably more than half ashamed of himself.
They went to "The Jolly Herring," as the pot-house was called, and
passed through the dingy beery taproom into the back parlour, to which
Eric had already been introduced by Wildney. About a dozen boys were
assembled, and there was a great clapping as the two newcomers entered.
A long table was laid down the room, which was regularly spread for
dinner.
"Now then, Billy; make haste with the goose," called Brigson. "I vote,
boys, that Eric Williams takes the chair."
"Hear! hear!" said half a dozen; and Eric, rather against his will,
found himself ensconced at the end of the table, with Brigson and Ball
on either hand. The villainous low-foreheaded man, whom they called
Billy, soon brought in a tough goose at one end of the table, and some
fowls at the other; and they fell to, doing ample justice to the _dais
eise_, while Billy waited on them. There was immense uproar during the
dinner, every one eating as fast, and talking as loud, as he could.
The birds soon vanished, and were succeeded by long roly-poly puddings,
which the boys called Goliahs; and they, too, rapidly disappeared.
Meanwhile beer was circling only too plentifully.
"Now for the dessert, Billy," called several voices; and that worthy
proceeded to put on the table some figs, cakes, oranges, and four black
bottles of wine. There was a general grab for these dainties, and one
boy shouted, "I say, I've had no wine."
"Well, it's all gone. We must get some brandy--it's cheaper," said
Brigson; and accordingly some brandy was brought in, which the boys
diluted with hot water, and soon despatched.
"Here! before you're all done swilling," said Brigson, "I've got a
health: `Confound muffs and masters, and success to the antis.'"
"And their chairman," suggested Wildney.
"And their chairman, the best fellow in the school," added Brigson.
The health was drunk with due clamour, and Eric (ridiculous and
meaningless as he thought the toast) got up to thank them.
"I'm not going to spout," he said; "but boys must be boys, and there's
no harm in a bit of fun, I for one have enjoyed it, and am much obliged
to you for asking me; and now I call for a song."
"Wildney! Wildney's song," called several.