Raro antecedentem scelestum
Deseruit pede Poena claudo.
_Horace_.
After prayers the next morning Dr Rowlands spoke to his boarders on the
previous day's discovery, and in a few forcible vivid words, set before
them the enormity of the offence. He ended by announcing that the boys
who were caught would be birched,--"except the elder ones, who will
bring me one hundred lines every hour of the half-holidays till further
notice. There are some," he said. "I am well aware, who, though
present yesterday, were not detected. I am sorry for it for _their_
sakes; they will be more likely to sin again. In cases like this,
punishment is a blessing, and impunity a burden." On leaving the room
he bade Eric follow him into his study. Eric obeyed, and stood before
the head-master with downcast eyes.
"Williams," he said, "I have had a great regard for you, and felt a deep
interest in you from the day I first saw you, and knew your excellent
parents. At one time I had conceived great hopes of your future course,
and your abilities seemed likely to blossom into excellent fruit. But
you fell off greatly, and grew idle and careless. At last an event
happened, in which for a time you acted worthily of yourself; and which
seemed to arouse you from your negligence and indifference. All my
hopes in you revived; but as I continued to watch your course (more
closely perhaps than you supposed), I observed with pain that those
hopes must be again disappointed. It needs but a glance at your
countenance to be sure that you are not so upright or right-minded a boy
as you were two years ago. I can judge only from your outward course;
but I deeply fear, Williams--I deeply fear, that in _other_ respects
also you are going the down-hill road. And what am I to think now,
when, on the _same_ morning, you and your little brother _both_ come
before me for such serious and heavy faults? I cannot free you from
blame even for _his_ misdoings, for you are his natural guardian here; I
am only glad that you were not involved with him in that charge."
"Let _me_ bear the punishment, sir, instead of him," said Eric, by a
sudden impulse; "for I misled him, and was there myself."
Dr Rowlands paced the room in deep sorrow. "You, Williams! on the
verge of the sixth-form. Alas! I fear, from this, that the state of
things among you is even worse than I had supposed."
Eric again hung his head.
"No; you have confessed the sin voluntarily, and therefore at present I
shall not notice it; only, let me entreat you to beware. But I must
turn to the other matter. What excuse have you for your intolerable
conduct to Mr Rose, who, as I know, has shown you from the first the
most unusual and disinterested kindness?"
"I cannot defend myself, sir. I was excited, and could not control my
passion."
"Then you must sit down here, and write an apology, which I shall make
you read aloud before the whole school at twelve to-day."
Eric, with trembling hand, wrote his apology, and Dr Rowlands glanced
at it. "That will do," he said; "I am glad you take a right view of the
matter. Come to me again at twelve."
At twelve all the school were assembled, and Eric, pale and miserable,
followed the Doctor into the great schoolroom. The masters stood at one
end of the room, and among them Mr Rose, who, however, appeared an
indifferent and uninterested spectator of the transaction. Every glance
was fixed on Eric, and every one pitied him.
"We are assembled," said Dr Rowlands, "for an act of justice. One of
your number has insulted a master publicly, and is ashamed of his
conduct, and has himself written the apology which he will read. I had
intended to add a still severer punishment, but Mr Rose has earnestly
begged me not to do so, and I have succumbed to his wishes. Williams,
read your apology."
There was a dead hush, and Eric tried once or twice in vain to utter a
word. At last, by a spasmodic effort, he regained his voice, and read,
but in so low and nervous a tone, that not even those nearest him heard
what he was saying.
Dr Rowlands took the paper from him. "Owing," he said, "to a very
natural and pardonable emotion, the apology has been read in such a way
that you could not have understood it. I will therefore read it myself.
It is to this effect--`I, Eric Williams, beg humbly and sincerely to
apologise for my passionate and ungrateful insult to Mr Rose.'"
"You will understand that he was left quite free to choose his own
expressions; and as he has acknowledged his shame and compunction for
the act, I trust that none of you will be tempted to elevate him into a
hero, for a folly which he himself so much regrets. This affair--as I
should wish all bad deeds to be after they have once been punished--will
now be forgiven, and I hope forgotten."
They left the room and dispersed, and Eric fancied that all shunned and
looked coldly on his degradation. But not so: Montagu came, and taking
his arm in the old friendly way, went a walk with him. It was a
constrained and silent walk, and they were both glad when it was over,
although Montagu did all he could to show that he loved Eric no less
than before. Still it was weeks since they had been much together, and
they had far fewer things in common now than they used to have before.
Eric's sprightliness, once the delight of all his friends, was now
rarely exhibited, except in the company of Wildney and Graham.
"I'm so wretched, Monty," said Eric at last; "do you think Rose despises
me?"
"I am _sure_ of the contrary. Won't you go to him, Eric, and say all
you feel?"
"Heigh ho! I shall never get right again. Oh, to recover the last two
years!"
"You can redeem them, Eric, by a wiser present. Let the same words
comfort you that have often brought hope to me--`I will restore the
years which the locust hath eaten.'"
They reached the school-door, and Eric went straight to the library.
Mr Rose was there alone. He received him kindly, as usual, and Eric
went up to the fireplace where he was standing. They had often stood by
that library fire on far different terms.
"Forgive me, sir," was all Eric could say, as the tears rushed to his
eyes.
"Freely, my boy," said Mr Rose sadly. "I wish you could feel how fully
I forgive you; but," he added, laying his hand for the last time on
Eric's head, "you have far more, Eric, to forgive yourself. I will not
talk to you, Eric; it would be little good, I fear; but you little know
how much I pity and tremble for you."
While these scenes were being enacted with Eric, a large group was
collected round the fireplace in the boarders' room, and many tongues
were loudly discussing the recent events.
Alas for gratitude! There was not a boy in that group to whom Mr Rose
had not done many an act of kindness; and to most of them far more than
they ever knew. Many a weary hour had he toiled for them in private,
when his weak frame was harassed by suffering; many a sleepless night
had he wrestled for them in prayer, when, for their sakes, his own many
troubles were laid aside. Work on, Walter Rose, and He who seeth in
secret will reward you openly! but expect no gratitude from those for
whose salvation you, like the great tender-hearted apostle, would almost
be ready to wish yourself accursed.
Nearly every one in that noisy group was abusing Mr Rose. It had long
been Brigson's cue to do so; he derided him on every opportunity, and
delighted to represent him as hypocritical and insincere. Even his weak
health was the subject of Brigson's coarse ridicule, and the bad boy
paid in deep hatred the natural tribute which vice must ever accord to
excellence.
"You see how he turns on his pets if they offend him," said Brigson;
"why, even that old beast Gordon isn't as bad."
"Yes; while poor Eric was reading, Rose reminded me of Milton's
serpent," observed Ball sententiously--
"Hope elevates, and joy
Brightens his crest."
"He-e-ar! he-e-ar!" said Pietrie; "_vide_ the last fifth-form
Repetition."
"I expect Eric won't see everything so much _couleur de rose_ now, as
the French frog hath it," remarked Graham.
"Turn him out for his bad pun," said Wildney.
"That means you're jealous of it, old fellow," answered Graham.
"I can't say either you or he _rose_ in my estimation in consequence,"
said Wildney, chuckling, as he dodged away to escape Graham's pursuit.
"It was too bad to stand by and triumph, certainly," observed Llewellyn.
"I say, you fellows," remonstrated the sober little Wright, who, with
Vernon, was sitting reading a book at one of the desks, "all that isn't
fair. I'm sure you all saw how really sorry Rose looked about it; and
he said, you know, that it was merely for the sake of school discipline
that he put the matter in Rowlands's hands."
"Discipline be hanged," shouted Brigson; "we'll have our revenge on him
yet, discipline or no."
"I hope you won't though," said Vernon; "I know Eric will be sorry if
you do."
"The more muff he. We shall do as we like."
"Well, I shall tell him; and I'm sure he'll ask you not. You know how
often he tries to stick up for Rose."
"If you say a word more," said Brigson, unaccustomed to being opposed
among his knot of courtiers, "I'll kick you out of the room; you and
that wretched little fool there with you."
"You may do as you like," answered Wright quietly; "but you won't go on
like this long, I can tell you."
Brigson tried to seize him, but failing, contented himself with flinging
a big coal at him as he ran out of the room, which narrowly missed his
head.
"I have it," said Brigson; "that little donkey's given me an idea.
We'll _crust_ Rose to-night."
"To crust," gentle reader, means to pelt an obnoxious person with
crusts.
"Capital," said some of the worst boys present, "we will."
"Well, who'll take part?"
No one offered. "What! are we all turning sneaks and cowards? Here,
Wildney, won't you? you were abusing Rose just now."
"Yes, I will," said Wildney, but with no great alacrity. "You'll not
have done till you've got us all expelled, I believe."
"Fiddlestick-end! and what if we are? besides, he can't expel half the
school."
First two or three more offered, and then a whole lot, gaining courage
by numbers. So the plot was regularly laid. Pietrie and Graham were to
put out the lights at each end of one table immediately after tea, and
Wildney and Booking at the other, when the study fellows had gone out.
There would then be only Mr Rose's candle burning, and the two middle
candles, which in so large a room would just give enough light for their
purpose. Then all the conspirators were to throng around the door, and
from it aim their crusts at Mr Rose's head. Not nearly so many would
have volunteered to join, but that they fancied Mr Rose was too gentle
to take up the matter with vigour, and they were encouraged in their
project by his quiet leniency towards Eric the night before. It was
agreed that no study-boy should be told of the intention, lest any of
them should interfere.
The hearts of many beat fast at tea that night as they observed that
numbers of boys, instead of eating all their bread, were cutting off the
crusts, and breaking them into good-sized bits.
Tea finished, Mr Rose said grace, and then sat down quietly reading in
his desk. The signal agreed on was the (accidental) dropping of a plate
by Brigson. The study-boys left the room.
Crash!--down fell a plate on the floor, breaking to pieces in the fall.
Instantly the four candles went out, and there was a hurried movement
towards the door, and a murmur of voices.
"Now then," said Brigson, in a loud whisper; "what a wretched set you
are! Here goes!"
The master, surprised at the sudden gloom and confusion, had just looked
up, unable to conjecture what was the matter. Brigson's crust caught
him a sharp rap on the forehead as he moved.
In an instant he started up, and ten or twelve more crusts flew by or
hit him on the head as he strode out of the desk towards the door.
Directly he stirred, there was a rush of boys into the passage, and if
he had once lost his judgment or temper, worse harm might have followed.
But he did not. Going to the door, he said, "Preparation will be in
five minutes; every boy not then in his place will be punished."
During that five minutes the servants had cleared away the tea, full of
wonder; but Mr Rose paced up and down the room, taking no notice of any
one. Immediately after, all the boys were in their places, with their
books open before them, and in the thrilling silence you might have
heard a pin drop. Every one felt that Mr Rose was master of the
occasion, and awaited his next step in terrified suspense.
They all perceived how thoroughly they had mistaken their subject. The
ringleaders would have given all they had to be well out of the scrape.
Mr Rose ruled by kindness, but he never suffered his will to be
disputed for an instant. He governed with such consummate tact, that
they hardly felt it to be government at all, and hence arose their
stupid miscalculation. But he felt that the time was now come to assert
his paramount authority, and determined to do so at once and for ever.
"Some of you have mistaken me," he said, in a voice so strong and stern
that it almost startled them. "The silly display of passion in one boy
yesterday has led you to presume that you may trifle with me. You are
wrong. For Williams's sake, as a boy who has, or at least once _had_,
something noble in him, I left that matter in the Doctor's hands. I
shall _not_ do so to-night. Which of you put out the candles?"
Dead silence. A pause.
"Which of you had the audacity to throw pieces of bread at me?"
Still silence.
"I warn you that I _will_ know, and it will be far worse for all the
guilty if I do not know at once." There was unmistakable decision in
the tone.
"Very well. I know many boys who were _not_ guilty, because I saw them
in parts of the room where to throw was impossible. I shall now _ask_
all the rest, one by one, if they took any part in this. And beware of
telling me a lie."
There was an uneasy sensation in the room, and several boys began to
whisper aloud, "Brigson! Brigson!" The whisper grew louder, and Mr
Rose heard it. He turned on Brigson indignantly, and said--
"They call your name; stand out!"
The awkward, big, ungainly boy, with his repulsive countenance, shambled
out of his place into the middle of the room. Mr Rose swept him with
one flashing glance. "_That_ is the boy," thought he to himself, "who
has been like an ulcer to this school. These boys shall have a good
look at their hero." It was but recently that Mr Rose knew all the
harm which Brigson had been doing, though he had discovered, almost from
the first, what _sort_ of character he had.
So Brigson stood out in the room, and as they looked at him, many a boy
cursed him in their hearts. And it was _that_ fellow, that stupid,
clumsy, base compound of meanness and malice, that had ruled like a king
among them. Faugh!
"They call your name! Do you know anything of this?"
"No!" said Brigson: "I'll swear I'd nothing to do with it."
"Oh-h-h-h!"--the long, intense, deep-drawn expression of disgust and
contempt ran round the room.
"You have told me a lie!" said Mr Rose slowly, and with strong
contempt. "No words can express my loathing for your false and
dishonourable conduct. Nor shall your lie save you, as you shall find
immediately. Still you shall escape if you can or dare to deny it
again. I repeat my question--Were you engaged in this?"
He fixed his full, piercing eye on the culprit, whom it seemed to scorch
and wither. Brigson winced back, and said nothing. "As I thought,"
said Mr Rose.
"Not one boy only, but many were engaged. I shall call you up one by
one to answer me. Wildney, come here."
The boy walked in front of the desk.
"Were you one of those who threw?"
Wildney, full as he was of dangerous and deadly faults, was no coward,
and not a liar. He knew, or at least feared, that this new scrape might
be fatal to him, but raising his dark and glistening eyes to Mr Rose,
he said penitently--
"I didn't throw, sir, but I _did_ put out one of the candles that it
might be done."
The contrast with Brigson was very great; the dark cloud hung a little
less darkly on Mr Rose's forehead, and there was a very faint murmur of
applause.
"Good stand back. Pietrie, come up."
Pietrie, too, confessed, and indeed all the rest of the plotters except
Booking. Mr Rose's lip curled with scorn as he heard the exclamation
which his denial caused; but he suffered him to sit down.
When Wright's turn came to be asked, Mr Rose said--"No! I shall not
even ask you, Wright. I know well that your character is too good to be
involved in such an attempt."
The boy bowed humbly, and sat down. Among the last questioned was
Vernon Williams, and Mr Rose seemed anxious for his answer.
"No," he said at once,--and seemed to wish to add something.
"Go on," said Mr Rose encouragingly.
"Oh, sir! I only wanted to say that I hope you won't think Eric knew of
this. He would have hated it, sir, more even than I do."
"Good," said Mr Rose; "I am sure of it. And now," turning to the
offenders, "I shall teach you never to dare again to be guilty of such
presumption and wickedness as to-night. I shall punish you according to
my notion of your degrees of guilt. Brigson, bring me a cane from that
desk."
He brought it.
"Hold out your hand."
The cane fell, and instantly split up from top to bottom. Mr Rose
looked at it, for it was new that morning.
"Ha! I see; more mischief; there is a hair in it."
The boys were too much frightened to smile at the complete success of
the trick.
"Who did this? I must be told at once."
"I did, sir," said Wildney, stepping forward.
"Ha! very well," said Mr Rose, while, in spite of his anger, a smile
hovered at the corner of his lips. "Go and borrow me a cane from Mr
Harley."
While he went there was unbroken silence.
"Now, sir," said he to Brigson, "I shall flog you." Corporal punishment
was avoided with the bigger boys, and Brigson had never undergone it
before. At the first stroke he writhed and yelled; at the second he
retreated, twisting like a serpent, and blubbering like a baby; at the
third he flung himself on his knees, and as the strokes fell fast,
clasped Mr Rose's arm, and implored and besought for mercy.
"_Miserable_ coward," said Mr Rose, throwing into the word such ringing
scorn that no one who heard it ever forgot it. He indignantly shook the
boy off, and caned him till he rolled on the floor, losing every
particle of self-control, and calling out, "The devil--the devil--the
devil!" ("invoking his patron saint," as Wildney maliciously observed).
"There! cease to blaspheme, and get up," said the master, blowing out a
cloud of fiery indignation. "There, sir. Retribution comes at last,
leaden-footed but iron-handed. A long catalogue of sins is visited on
you to-day, and not only on your shrinking body, but on your conscience
too, if you have one left. Let those red marks betoken that your reign
is ended. Liar and tempter, you have led boys into the sins which you
then meanly deny! And now, you boys, _there_ in that coward, who cannot
even endure his richly-merited punishment, see the boy whom you have
suffered to be your _leader_ for well-nigh six months!"
"Now, sir,"--again he turned upon Brigson--"that flogging shall be
repeated with interest on your next offence. At present you will take
each boy on your back while I cane him. It is fit that they should see
where _you_ lead them to."
Trembling violently, and cowed beyond description, he did as he was bid.
No other boy cried, or even winced; a few sharp cuts was all which Mr
Rose gave them, and even they grew fewer each time, for he was tired,
and displeased to be an executioner.
"And now," he said, "since that disgusting but necessary scene is over,
_never_ let me have to repeat it again." But his authority was
established like a rock from that night forward. No one ever ventured
to dispute it again, or forgot that evening. Mr Rose's noble moral
influence gained tenfold strength from the respect and wholesome fear
that he then inspired.
But, as he said, Brigson's reign was over. Looks of the most
unmitigated disgust and contempt were darted at him, as he sat alone and
shunned at the end of the table; and the boys seemed now to loathe and
nauseate the golden calf they had been worshipping. He had not done
blubbering even yet, when the prayer-bell rang. No sooner had Mr Rose
left the room than Wildney, his dark eyes sparkling with rage, leaped on
the table, and shouted--
"Three groans, hoots, and hisses for a liar and a coward," a sign of
execration which he was the first to lead off; and which the boys echoed
like a storm.
Astonished at the tumult, Mr Rose reappeared at the door.
"Oh, we're not hissing you, sir," said Wildney excitedly; "we're all
hissing at lying and cowardice."
Mr Rose thought the revulsion of feeling might do good, and he was
striding out again without a word when--
"Three times three for Mr Rose," sang out Wildney.
Never did a more hearty or spontaneous cheer burst from the lips and
lungs of fifty boys than that. The news had spread like wildfire to the
studies, and the other boys came flocking in during the uproar, to join
in it heartily. Cheer after cheer rang out like a sound of silver
clarions from the clear boy-voices; and in the midst of the excited
throng stood Eric and Montagu, side by side, hurrahing more lustily than
all the rest.
But Mr Rose, in the library, was on his knees, with moving lips and
lifted hands. He coveted the popular applause as little as he had
dreaded the popular opposition; and the evening's painful experiences
had taught him anew the bitter lesson to expect no gratitude, and hope
for no reward, but simply, and contentedly, and unmurmuringly, to work
on in God's vineyard so long as life and health should last.
Brigson's brazen forehead bore him through the disgrace which would have
crushed another. But still he felt that his position at Roslyn could
never be what it had been before, and he therefore determined to leave
at once. By grossly calumniating the school, he got his father to
remove him, and announced, to every one's great delight, that he was
going in a fortnight. On his last day, by way of bravado, he smashed
and damaged as much of the school property as he could, a proceeding
which failed to gain him any admiration, and merely put his father to
ruinous expense.
The day after his exposure Eric had cut him dead, without the least
pretence of concealment; an example pretty generally followed throughout
the school.
In the evening Brigson went up to Eric and hissed in his ear, "You cut
me, curse you; but, _never fear, I'll be revenged on you yet_."
"Do your worst," answered Eric contemptuously; "and never speak to me
again."