Part 2 (1/2)
”Foul blow!” ventured Rawson, a lean lad who liked to twist the arms of very little boys till they shrieked for mercy. The full inwardness of the incident had not penetrated to his brain; he saw without believing, in the manner of the materialist who denies the marvellous even when it is before his eyes.
”Foul blow, young Meyrick!”
The quiet student had gone back to his place and was again handling his dictionary. It was a hard, compact volume, rebound in strong boards, and the edge of these boards caught the unfortunate Rawson full across the eyes with extraordinary force. He put his face in his hands and blubbered quietly and dismally, rocking to and fro in his seat, hardly hearing the fluent stream of curses with which the quiet student inquired whether the blow he had just had was good enough for him.
Meyrick picked up his dictionary with a volley of remarks which would have done credit to an old-fas.h.i.+oned stage-manager at the last dress rehearsal before production.
”Hark at him,” said Pelly feebly, almost reverently. ”Hark at him.” But poor Rawson, rocking to and fro, his head between his hands, went on blubbering softly and spoke no word.
Meyrick had never been an un.o.bservant lad; he had simply made a discovery that evening that in Rome certain Roman customs must be adopted. The wise Bates went on doing his copy of Latin verse, chuckling gently to himself. Bates was a cynic. He despised all the customs and manners of the place most heartily and took the most curious care to observe them. He might have been the inventor and patentee of rocker, if one judged him by the fervour with which he played it. He entered his name for every possible event at the sports, and jumped the jumps and threw the hammer and ran the races as if his life depended on it. Once Mr. Horbury had accidentally over-head Bates saying something about ”the honour of the House” which went to his heart. As for cricket, Bates played as if his sole ambition was to become a first-cla.s.s professional.
And he chuckled as he did his Latin verses, which he wrote (to the awe of other boys) ”as if he were writing a letter”--that is, without making a rough copy. For Bates had got the ”hang” of the whole system from rocker to Latin verse, and his copies were much admired. He grinned that evening, partly at the trans.m.u.tation of Meyrick and partly at the line he was jotting down:
”_Mira loquor, coelo resonans vox funditur alto._”
In after life he jotted down a couple of novels which sold, as the journalists said, ”like hot cakes.” Meyrick went to see him soon after the first novel had gone into its thirtieth thousand, and Bates was reading ”appreciations” and fingering a cheque and chuckling.
”Mira loquor, populo, resonans, _cheque_ funditur alto,” he said. ”I know what schoolmasters and boys and the public want, and I take care they get it--_sale espece de sacres cochons de N. de D._!”
The rest of prep. went off quite quietly. Pelly was slowly recovering from the shock that he had received and began to meditate revenge.
Meyrick had got him unawares, he reflected. It was merely an accident, and he resolved to challenge Meyrick to fight and give him back the worst licking he had ever had in his life. He was beefy, but a bold fellow. Rawson, who was really a cruel coward and a sneak, had made up his mind that he wanted no more, and from time to time cast meek and propitiatory glances in Meyrick's direction.
At half-past nine they all went into their dining-room for bread and cheese and beer. At a quarter to ten Mr. Horbury appeared in cap and gown and read a chapter from St. Paul's Epistle to the Romans, with one or two singularly maundering and unhappy prayers. He stopped the boys as they were going up to their rooms.
”What's this, Pelly?” he said. ”Your nose is all swollen. It's been bleeding, too, I see. What have you been doing to yourself? And you, Rawson, how do you account for your eyes being black? What's the meaning of all this?”
”Please, Sir, there was a very stiff bully down at rocker this afternoon, and Rawson and I got tokered badly.”
”Were you in the bully, Bates?”
”No, Sir; I've been outside since the beginning of the term. But all the fellows were playing up tremendously, and I saw Rawson and Pelly had been touched when we were changing.”
”Ah! I see. I'm very glad to find the House plays up so well. As for you, Bates, I hear you're the best outside for your age that we've ever had. Good night.”
The three said ”Thank you, Sir,” as if their dearest wish had been gratified, and the master could have sworn that Bates flushed with pleasure at his word of praise. But the fact was that Bates had ”suggested” the flush by a cunning arrangement of his features.
The boys vanished and Mr. Horbury returned to his desk. He was editing a selection called ”English Literature for Lower Forms.” He began to read from the slips that he had prepared:
”_So all day long the noise of battle roll'd Among the mountains by the winter sea; Until King Arthur's table, man by man, Had fallen in Lyonnesse----_”
He stopped and set a figure by the last word, and then, on a blank slip, with a corresponding letter, he repeated the figure and wrote the note:
Lyonnesse--the Sicilly Isles.
Then he took a third slip and wrote the question:
Give the ancient name of the Sicilly Isles.
These serious labours employed him till twelve o'clock. He put the materials of his book away as the clock struck, and solemnly mixed himself his nightly gla.s.s of whisky and soda--in the daytime he never touched spirits--and bit the one cigar which he smoked in the twenty-four hours. The stings of the Head's sherry and of his conversation no longer burned within him; time and work and the bite of the cane in Meyrick's flesh had soothed his soul, and he set himself to dream, leaning back in his arm-chair, watching the cheerful fire.
He was thinking of what he would do when he succeeded to the Headmasters.h.i.+p. Already there were rumours that Chesson had refused the Bishopric of St. Dubric's in order that he might be free to accept Dorchester, which, in the nature of things, must soon be vacant. Horbury had no doubt that the Headmasters.h.i.+p would be his; he had influential friends who a.s.sured him that the trustees would not hesitate for an instant. Then he would show the world what an English Public School could be made. In five years, he calculated, he would double the numbers. He saw the coming importance of the modern side, and especially of science. Personally, he detested ”stinks,” but he knew what an effect he would produce with a great laboratory fitted with the very best appliances and directed by a highly qualified master. Then, again, an elaborate gymnasium must be built; there must be an engineer's shop, too, and a carpenter's as well. And people were beginning to complain that a Public School Education was of no use in the City. There must be a business master, an expert from the Stock Exchange who would see that this reproach was removed. Then he considered that a large number of the boys belonged to the land-owning cla.s.s. Why should a country gentleman be at the mercy of his agent, forced for lack of technical knowledge to accept statements which he could not check? It was clear that the management of land and great estates must have its part in the scheme; and, again, the best-known of the Crammers must be bought on his own terms, so that the boys who wished to get into the Army or the Civil Service would be practically compelled to come to Lupton. Already he saw paragraphs in the _Guardian_ and _The Times_--in all the papers--paragraphs which mentioned the fact that ninety-five per cent of the successful candidates for the Indian Civil Service had received their education at the foundation of ”stout old Martin Rolle.”
Meanwhile, in all this flood of novelty, the old traditions should be maintained with more vigour than ever. The cla.s.sics should be taught as they never had been taught. Every one of the masters on this side should be in the highest honours and, if possible, he would get famous men for the work--they should not merely be good, but also notorious scholars.
Gee, the famous explorer in Crete, who had made an enormous mark in regions widely removed from the scholastic world by his wonderful book, _Daedalus; or, The Secret of the Labyrinth_, must come to Lupton at any price; and Maynard, who had discovered some most important Greek ma.n.u.scripts in Egypt, he must have a form, too. Then there was Rendell, who had done so well with his _Thucydides_, and Davies, author of _The Olive of Athene_, a daring but most brilliant book which promised to upset the whole established theory of mythology--he would have such a staff as no school had ever dreamed of. ”We shall have no difficulty about paying them,” thought Horbury; ”our numbers will go up by leaps and bounds, and the fees shall be five hundred pounds a year--and such terms will do us more good than anything.”
He went into minute detail. He must take expert advice as to the advisability of the school farming on its own account, and so supplying the boys with meat, milk, bread, b.u.t.ter and vegetables at first cost. He believed it could be done; he would get a Scotch farmer from the Lowlands and make him superintendent at a handsome salary and with a share in the profits. There would be the splendid advertis.e.m.e.nt of ”the whole dietary of the school supplied from the School Farms, under the supervision of Mr. David Anderson, formerly of Haddanneuk, the largest tenancy in the Duke of Ayr's estates.” The food would be better and cheaper, too; but there would be no luxury. The ”Spartan” card was always worth playing; one must strike the note of plain living in a luxurious age; there must be no losing of the old Public School severity. On the other hand, the boy's hands should be free to go into their own pockets; there should be no restraint here. If a boy chose to bring in _Dindonneau aux truffes_ or _Pieds de mouton a la Ste Menehould_ to help out his tea, that was his look-out. Why should not the school grant a concession to some big London firm, who would pay handsomely for the privilege of supplying the hungry lads with every kind of expensive dainty? The sum could be justly made a large one, as any competing shop could be promptly put out of bounds with reason or without it. On one side, _confiserie_; at the other counter, _charcuterie_; enormous prices could be charged to the wealthy boys of whom the school would be composed. Yet, on the other hand, the distinguished visitor--judge, bishop, peer or what not--would lunch at the Headmaster's house and eat the boys' dinner and go away saying it was quite the plainest and very many times the best meal he had ever tasted. There would be well-hung saddle of mutton, roasted and not baked; floury potatoes and cauliflower; apple pudding with real English cheese, with an excellent gla.s.s of the school beer, an honest and delicious beverage made of malt and hops in the well-found school brewery. Horbury knew enough of modern eating and drinking to understand that such a meal would be a choice rarity to nine rich people out of ten; and yet it was ”Spartan,” utterly devoid of luxury and ostentation.