Part 19 (1/2)

And bit by bit he told his tale, beginning with Beetle's usury, and ending with the house-prefects' appeal.

”Beetle in the _ro'le_ of Shylock is new to me,” said King, with twitching lips. ”I heard rumors of it--”

”Before?” said Prout.

”No, after you had dealt with them; but I was careful not to inquire. I never interfere with--”

”I myself,” said Hartopp, ”would cheerfully give him five s.h.i.+llings if he could work out one simple sum in compound interest without three gross errors.”

”Why--why--why!” Mason, the mathematical master, stuttered, a fierce joy on his face, ”you've been had--precisely the same as me!”

”And so you held an inquiry?” Little Hartopp's voice drowned Mason's ere Prout caught the import of the sentence.

”The boy himself hinted at the existence of a deal of it in the house,”

said Prout.

”He is past master in that line,” said the chaplain. ”But, as regards the honor of the house--”

”They lowered it in a week. I have striven to build it up for years.

My own house-prefects--and boys do not willingly complain of each other--besought me to get rid of them. You say you have their confidence, Gillett: they may tell you another tale. As far as I am concerned, they may go to the devil in their own way. I'm sick and tired of them,” said Prout bitterly.

But it was the Reverend John, with a smiling countenance, who went to the devil just after Number Five had cleared away a very pleasant little brew (it cost them two and fourpence) and was settling down to prep.

”Come in, Padre, come in,” said Stalky, thrusting forward the best chair. ”We've only met you official-like these last ten days.”

”You were under sentence,” said the Reverend John. ”I do not consort with malefactors.”

”Ah, but we're restored again,” said McTurk. ”Mr. Prout has relented.”

”Without a stain on our characters,” said Beetle. ”It was a painful episode, Padre, most painful.”

”Now, consider for a while, and perpend, _mes enfants_. It is about your characters that I've called to-night. In the language of the schools, what the dooce _have_ you been up to in Mr. Prout's house? It isn't anything to laugh over. He says that you so lowered the tone of the house he had to pack you back to your studies. Is that true?”

”Every word of it, Padre.”

”Don't be flippant, Turkey. Listen to me. I've told you very often that no boys in the school have a greater influence for good or evil than you have. You know I don't talk about ethics and moral codes, because I don't believe that the young of the human animal realizes what they mean for some years to come. All the same, I don't want to think you've been perverting the juniors. Don't interrupt, Beetle. Listen to me. Mr. Prout has a notion that you have been corrupting your a.s.sociates somehow or other.”

”Mr. Prout has so many notions, Padre,” said Beetle wearily. ”Which one is this?”

”Well, he tells me that he heard you telling a story in the twilight in the form-room, in a whisper. And Orrin said, just as he opened the door, 'Shut up, Beetle; it's too beastly.' Now then?”

”You remember Mrs. Oliphant's 'Beleaguered City' that you lent me last term?” said. Beetle.

The Padre nodded.

”I got the notion out of that. Only, instead of a city, I made it the Coll. in a fog--besieged by ghosts of dead boys, who hauled chaps out of their beds in the dormitory. All the names are quite real. You tell it in a whisper, you know with the names. Orrin didn't like it one little bit. None of 'em have ever let me finish it. It gets just awful at the end part.”

”But why in the world didn't you explain to Mr. Prout, instead of leaving him under the impression--?”

”Padre Sahib,” said McTurk, ”it isn't the least good explainin' to Mr.