Part 27 (1/2)
Paul had begun to undress. Presently one of them, directly opposite Digby's bed, put up his head, and said--
”Ah, Master Digby Heathcote, son of Squire Heathcote, of Bloxholme Hall, how are you?”
”That's me,” answered Digby, firmly; ”I'm very well, I thank you, in very good condition, and not bad training; and I am strong, though not very big. And now I'll tell you what I am going to do: I am going to make my bed, to see that it is comfortable, and then I am going to say my prayers, as I always do; and I beg that you fellows will not make a row till I have done. I shall not be long; then I intend to undress, and get into bed. After the candle is put out, if anything is s.h.i.+ed at me, or any other trick is played, I'll tell you what I intend to do. I have fixed upon one of the beds, with a fellow in it, and, big or little, as he may be, I'll pay him off in such a way that he will be glad to help me another night in keeping order. I am not a greenhorn; I just want you to understand that.”
There was something in Digby's well-knit figure, sunburnt, honest countenance, and firm voice, which, as the boys, one after the other, popped up their heads to look at him, inspired them, if not with respect for him, at all events with a dislike to bring down on their heads the chastis.e.m.e.nt he threatened. The bigger boys, though they might have thrashed him in open daylight, could not tell what means he might have for attacking them; and those of his own size saw that he was very likely to thrash them, even on fair terms, if they attempted to try their strength together. No answer was made; so, whistling a merry tune, he set to work: first, he carefully and systematically undid his bed, which had been made into an apple-pie, and smoothing down the sheets, and tucking in the feet, he said--”Ah, now that will do.” Then he knelt down by the side of the bed, and most earnestly and sincerely repeated the prayers he had been accustomed to use. Several attempts were made to disturb him.
”Shame, shame!” cried Paul Newland from beneath the bedclothes.
Another voice said, ”Shame! Let him at least say his prayers.”
Digby very soon rose from his knees.
”I am much obliged to those who cried shame,” he said, firmly. ”It is a shame. It is an insult, not to me, but to Him to whom I was trying to pray. To morrow night I shall know most of the voices of our fellows, and I am resolved not to be interrupted. Now, make as much row as you like; I can sleep through it all; but you remember what I said.”
Digby began undressing, and stowing his clothes away at the head of his bed, so that they could not be removed, jumped into bed.
Just then an usher entered, to put out the light. It was the French master, Digby concluded, for one or two of the boys exchanged salutations with him, calling him Monsieur Guillaume. ”Bon nuit, bon nuit--va dormir, mes enfants.” There was a great deal of chattering and noise as he went out.
”Remember,” said Digby, in a firm voice; and then put his head on the pillow.
”Oh, he's a crowing little c.o.c.k,” cried some one. ”A regular bantam,”
observed another. ”I wonder if there are more like him at Bloxholme Hall?” exclaimed a third.
But Digby made no answer. Similar remarks were made for some minutes, but he kept silence, till his persecutors began to grow sleepy. One after the other they dropped off, and so did he, at last; and never slept more soundly in his life.
If all right-thinking boys would exercise the same firmness and resolution as Digby did on this occasion, the better disposed would soon gain the upper hand, and there would be much less bullying and general bad conduct than is too often to be found even at the best-regulated schools.
CHAPTER TWELVE.
DIGBY'S TRIALS AND TRIUMPH--THE BULLY AND THE SPONGE--A DINNER AT GRANGEWOOD--DIGBY'S FIGHT WITH BULLY SCARBOROUGH--A FRIEND IN NEED.
Digby had gained a great triumph--more important, probably, than he was aware of. That first night of his arrival at Grangewood had been the turning-point of his school life. Had he yielded in the first instance, been terrified by threats, lost his temper, shown the white feather in any way, he would, insensibly, have become like one of the rest-- leavened with their leaven, addicted to their bad habits, a thoughtless, idle little tyrant; too likely, on entering the world, to become a useless profligate. As it was, in consequence of his conduct, he had inspired some of his new companions with admiration, and others with respect; while even those of baser nature felt that he was likely to prove a person with whom it would be disagreeable and inconvenient to contend; and so it became impressed on their minds, that it would be better to let him alone. Of course, these feelings were only shared among the boys of his room. He had still to make his way in the school.
Like a knight-errant of old, there were many giants for him to overcome; many castles, surrounded by enchantments, to enter, before he could hope to establish himself on a proper footing in the school. Of course he did not think all this; he only felt that he had altogether acted in a perfectly satisfactory way, and was contented, and pretty happy. He slept soundly, but was the first to awake in the room. He jumped up, put on some of his clothes, said his prayers, and then went to the wash-hand basin, and began sousing his face away in the cold water, as was his custom.
Slowly the cold, grey light of a February morning drew on. A bell now sounded loudly through the house, to rouse the inmates from their slumbers. The other boys awoke, and lifted up their heads to see how the new boy looked by daylight. They saw him standing in his trousers and s.h.i.+rt, with his sleeves tucked up, his face glowing with the cold water, his hair brushed back, and scrubbing away at his hands in a basin full of lather, with an energy which showed that cold water had no terrors for him. His well-knit frame, broad chest, and muscular little arms, appeared to considerable advantage. Some of the boys, who were unable to appreciate higher qualifications, could not fail to feel respect for these; though Digby had not thought about them, nor was he aware of the strength which he possessed, which, for his size, was considerable. He brushed his hair with the same sort of energy with which he had washed his hands, and then went to the drawer which had been awarded to him, to put away his things. He was rather disgusted than amused at seeing the dawdling way in which the boys put on their clothes, and the mode in which they dabbed their faces over with the cold water, and hurriedly dipped their hands in, though some only half dried them, after all. Paul and Farnham were an exception to the rule.
”Well, Heathcote, I hope that you have slept soundly in this, to you, strange place,” said Paul, in his usual brisk tone.
”As sound as a top. It is all the same to me, when I have my head on a comfortable pillow. It takes a good deal to keep me awake,” answered Digby, in the same tone. ”I sleep fast, and get it over the sooner. I hate to be long about what can be well done quickly.”
”So do I,” answered Newland. ”Slow coaches are apt to break down as often as fast ones.”
Another bell now rang loudly, and the boys all hurried away downstairs to the schoolroom. Digby accompanied Paul. He felt several fellows push against his back, to throw him downstairs, but he was on his guard; and one of them, to the fellow's surprise, he lifted up on his shoulders, and, without difficulty, carried him down to the next landing-place, where he b.u.mped him pretty hard against the wall.
Another, not seeing what had occurred, tried the same trick. Digby, putting his hands suddenly behind his back, seized him, and had carried him down, holding the boy's arms tight, and was beginning to b.u.mp him, when he felt his own ears pulled, and a voice exclaiming--
”Vat you do dat for? Is dat de way you new boy is going to behave here?”
Digby guessed that it was Monsieur Guillaume, the French master, who was thus addressing him.