Part 29 (1/2)

Digby had shaken himself clear of the bully, whose face was livid with anger, and stood facing him.

Scarcely were the words out of Digby's mouth, than he received several tremendous boxes on the ears. He felt a choking sensation in the throat; he had never before been struck unjustly. All the pugnacity in his disposition rose at once into his well-rounded knuckles, and springing forward before the bully had a conception of what he was about to do, he had planted two such heavy blows in his two eyes, that they flashed fire in such a way, that he could scarcely see what had become of his small opponent, while he himself absolutely reeled back with pain. When he did open his eyes, there stood Digby, his feet firmly planted on the ground, his fists clenched, his teeth firmly set, undaunted and ready to do battle, yet well knowing that he must inevitably get the worst in an encounter with so big an antagonist. He had not provoked the quarrel; he had justice on his side, and he was encouraged by the shouts of a number of boys, and cries of ”Bravo, little c.o.c.k!” ”Well done, new boy!” ”Give it the bully!” ”Stand to your colours!” Digby felt like a martyr to a great cause. If Scarborough had been angry when merely spoken to, he now became furious at being thus unexpectedly bearded by so small an antagonist. If the new boy escaped without a severe punishment, he might become a most troublesome opponent in the school. He rushed at him, uttering terrific threats of vengeance, intending to seize him by the collar and to throw him down, and to bite his ears and kick him at the same time, _more tyranni_. Digby leaped nimbly aside, and hit his right arm a blow which made it tingle from the shoulder to the tips of the fingers. This, however, only put off the chastis.e.m.e.nt which was sure to be inflicted, where his antagonist was so vastly superior in strength.

It is not necessary to repeat the abusive epithets and oaths which flew from Scarborough's mouth. Hitting Digby a terrific blow with his left hand, which knocked off his cap, and kicking at his legs, he brought him to the ground, when seizing him by the hair, he began to knock him about most unmercifully on the head and shoulders.

”Shame! shame!” cried many of the boys together; ”a new fellow, and down on the ground. Shame, bully! shame!”

”Why don't some of you come and help me?” cried Digby, in the interval of the blows, and trying to get on his legs.

”I will,” cried little Paul Newland, who had only just come into the playground, and had run up to see what was happening; ”who'll follow me?

Farnham, you will, I'm sure.”

”That I will,” cried Farnham, all the generous emotions in his heart rising up; ”he stood up bravely for us younger fellows. He is a gallant little c.o.c.k. To the rescue! to the rescue!”

Farnham was a good-sized fellow, though young. A number of other boys, inspired by his address, joined him; and, without further concert, they made a bold dash at Scarborough, who little thought that they would really attack him. Some clung to his legs, others seized his arms, and clung round his neck and pulled him backwards, so that Digby had time to jump to his feet, and to shake himself to ascertain that no bones were broken.

”Thank you, thank you,” he exclaimed: ”I am not much the worse for the way that big coward behaved; but take care, he will be hurting some of you; I don't mind if he was to set on me again; I dare say I can stand his knocking about as well as anybody.”

The boys who had so gallantly come to Digby's rescue had not thought of that, and Scarborough, struggling desperately to free himself, had thrown some of them off, and was in his fury striking, right and left, blows heavy enough to have maimed any of them for life; but at the same time he had his eye on Digby, on whom he was evidently longing to wreak his vengeance.

By this time most of the boys, big and little, were drawn round the scene of the contest. Scarborough had his friends, who urged him to annihilate his small opponents, but did not think it necessary themselves to interfere. Bad as were many of them, Digby's gallantry had been remarked by one of the elder boys in the first cla.s.s, who, though not so big or so old as Scarborough, was a person not to be trifled with. His figure was light, active, well-knit, and his countenance had a mild expression, at the same time that it possessed signs of peculiar firmness and decision.

Scarborough had freed himself from all those who surrounded him, except from Farnham and Newland, who were in vain trying to prevent him from once more seizing Digby, when Henry Bouverie, the boy spoken of, stepped up, and placing himself between Scarborough and Digby, exclaimed:--

”You shall not touch him; while I remain at this place, I will not, if I can help it, allow so thoroughly un-English and cowardly acts to be committed. That young fellow only came yesterday, and you must needs run foul of him and half kill him with your brutality to-day. Whatever others may think, I know that the sooner you leave the school the better it will be for all of us.”

Scarborough was still advancing. Bouverie lifted up his fists.

”You shall light me and thrash me before you again touch that young fellow,” he exclaimed, in a voice which made the bully draw back.

”Remember, Heathcote, if he strikes you, you are to come and tell me; and any of you fellows who came to Heathcote's help are to do the same.”

The bully stood irresolute. Should he at once fly at Bouverie and attack him. He was certainly stronger; he might thrash him; and if so, he should not only keep him in check, but be able to tyrannise over all the other boys as much as he liked; but then he looked at Bouverie, and observed the calm, firm att.i.tude he had a.s.sumed. The reverse would be the case if he failed. His prestige, already having suffered a severe blow from Digby, would be for ever gone.

When Bouverie had first spoken, Farnham and Newland had let him go, and though he struck at them as they did so, they escaped without much injury. Some of the bigger boys, who did not like Bouverie, shouted out:--

”Knock him over; down with the radical!”

But still louder rose a shout of approbation from Farnham, Newland, and the boys with more generous feelings who had sided with them, in which Digby heartily joined.

”Bravo, Bouverie, gallant fellow! we'll stick by you.”

”Thanks to all those who so express themselves,” said Bouverie; ”recollect, however, it is only by being kindly affectioned one to another, and by supporting each other in everything that is right, that you can hope to resist tyranny and oppression. Mark me, also, Scarborough; I have no wish to set the fellows on against you, but I detest bullying, and if you continue the system you have been pursuing, I shall do my very utmost to help the younger fellows, and to oppose you. No more shouting, pray. I'm for a game at Prisoners' Base. Here, Farnham, you lead one side, I'll take the other. Any fellows who will oppose bullying may join; no others, remember.”

Digby was surprised at the rapid and systematic way in which the arrangements were made. Farnham was evidently pleased at being chosen by a big fellow like Bouverie to play against him. Of the mysteries of the game he himself knew nothing; still he longed to join in it in spite of his sores and aching bones. Bouverie at last looked towards him and invited him to join.

”All right; I thought he would,” said Paul Newland, who was standing near.

”But I have never played at it before,” said Digby.