BRIGGS was the gayest dog in Balliol. If there was a bonfire
in the quad, and if the dons found their favourite chairs smouldering
in the ashes, BRIGGS was at the bottom of it. If the bulldogs
were led a five-mile chase at one o'clock in the morning, the gownless
figure that lured them on was BRIGGS. If the supper at
VINNIE'S became so uproarious that the Proctor thought it
necessary to interfere, the gentleman that dropped him from the
first-floor window was BRIGGS. Anyone else would have been
sent down over and over again, but--BRIGGS stroked the Balliol
boat: BRIGGS had his cricket blue; BRIGGS was a dead
certainty against Cambridge for the quarter and the hundred: in short,
BRIGGS was indispensable to the College and the 'Varsity, and
therefore he was allowed to stay.
But what is this? A change has come over BRIGGS. He is another
man. Can it be----? Impossible--and yet? Yes, it began that very
night. Everyone has heard of Miss O'GRESS, the Pioneer. She
came up to Oxford to lecture; her subject was "Man: his Position and
_Raison d'être_." BRIGGS and I went to hear; went in light
laughing mood with little fear of any consequences. We listened to
the O'GRESS. "There is no doubt," she said, "that Man was
intended by Nature to be the Father. For this high calling he should
endeavour to fit himself by every means in his power. He should
cultivate his body so as to render himself attractive to Woman. He
should be tall,"--her eye fell on BRIGGS--"he should be
handsome,"--still on BRIGGS--"he should be graceful, he
should be athletic."--At this point her eye seemed fairly to feast on
BRIGGS, and a curious lurid light lowered in it. She paused a
moment. I was sitting next to BRIGGS, and I felt a shiver run
through him. I looked at his face, and it was ghastly pale. I asked him
in a whisper if he felt faint? He impatiently motioned me to be silent,
and remained, as I thought, like a bird paralysed beneath the gaze of a
serpent. I heard no more, so anxious was I on my friend's account; nor
could I breathe with any freedom until the audience rose and we were
once again in the fresh air.
The following day there was a garden-party at Trinity. BRIGGS
said he was playing for the 'Varsity against Lancashire, and therefore
could not go. Imagine my surprise then, when, as I was doing the polite
among the strawberries and cream, I caught sight of him slinking down
the lime grove at the heels of the O'GRESS. I rubbed my eyes
and looked again. Yes, it was BRIGGS indeed. The face was his;
the features were his; the figure was his; the clothes were his--but,
the buoyant step? the merry laugh? where, where, eh! where were they?
* * *
The Long Vac. passed, and we were all up again for Michaelmas Term.
There was a blank in our circle. "Where's BRIGGS?" asked
BROWN. "Where's BRIGGS?" asked TROTTER of
Trinity. We looked at one another. What! Nobody seen BRIGGS?
Not up yet?--Better go and see. We went to his rooms. No
BRIGGS there, and not a sign of his coming. We went to
JONES. JONES knew no more than we; to SMITH,
GREEN, ROBERTS--all equally ignorant. At last we
tried the Porter. What! hadn't we heard the news? News? No! What
news? The Porter's face grew long. Why, Mr. BRIGGS, 'e
weren't comin' up no more. Not coming up? Not coming up? Nonsense!
Impossible!--Fact, gentlemen, fact. The Master,'e'd 'ad a note from Mr.
BRIGGS, sayin' as 'ow 'e wouldn't be back agin. No one knew
nothink more than that. No one could explain it.
There was despair in Balliol. What would become of us? Without
BRIGGS we could never catch B. N. C. Magdalen would bump
us to a certainty, and we could hardly hope to escape the House.
In football it would be just as bad. Keble and Exeter would simply
jump on us, and not a single Balliol man would have his blue. The
position was appalling; ruin stared us in the face; the College was in
consternation, for BRIGGS had disappeared.
* * * * *