_ CHAPTER THIRTY TWO. THE "DOMINICAN" COMES ROUND
The Fifth were a good while coming round on the question of Greenfield senior. But the delay was more on account of pride than because they still considered their old class-fellow a knave. They had taken up such a grand position last term, and talked so magnificently about honour, and morality, and the credit of the school, that it was a sad come-down now to have to admit they had all been wrong, and still more that they had all been fools. And yet, after what had happened, they could no longer retain their suspicions of Oliver Greenfield.
A few of the better sort, like Pembury and Bullinger, had the courage, at whatever cost, to act up to their convictions, and declared at once that they had been wrong, and were ashamed of it.
The next step was to approach Oliver, and that was more difficult, for he was such a queer fellow there was no knowing where to have him. However, Pembury's wit helped him over the difficulty as usual.
He was hobbling down the passage one morning when he suddenly encountered Oliver and Wraysford, arm-in-arm, approaching him. If at any time in his life Pembury did feel uncomfortable and awkward he felt it now. If he let Oliver go by this time without making it up somehow, the chance might never come again; but how to set about it, that was the difficulty, and every half-second brought the two nearer. Twenty different ideas flashed through his mind. He was not the sort of fellow to go to any one and eat humble-pie straight off. That was far too tame a proceeding. No, there was only one way he could think of, and he would chance that.
"Noll, old man," said he, in the old familiar tones, "you've got a spare arm. May I take it?"
Oliver stopped short and looked at him for an instant in astonishment. Next moment, with a hearty "Rather!" he slipped his arm into that of the happy Pembury, and the three went on their way rejoicing, a sight and a moral for all Saint Dominic's.
That was the whole of Anthony Pembury's making up. As for Bullinger, he wrote his man a letter, worded in beautiful English, in the most elegant handwriting and punctuated to a nicety, setting forth his contrition, and his hope that Greenfield would henceforth reckon him among his friends--"Yours very sincerely, H. Bullinger." This literary effort he carefully dispatched by a Guinea-pig to its destination, and awaited a reply with the utmost impatience. The reply was laconic, but highly satisfactory. It was a verbal one, given by Oliver himself in class that afternoon, who volunteered the information to the delighted Bullinger that it was a "jolly day."
It was indeed a jolly day to that contrite youth. He never believed it would all be got over so easily. He had dreaded all sorts of scenes and lectures and humiliations, but here he was, by a single word, passed back straight into friendship, and no questions asked.
The sight of Oliver surrounded by these three friends, of whom it would have been hard to say which was the happiest, made a deep impression on the rest of the Fifth, and certainly did not tend to make them feel more comfortable as to what they ought to do in a similar direction.
"It's all very well," said Ricketts, when the question was being canvassed for the hundredth time among his immediate friends. "I dare say they are all right, but it makes it jolly uncomfortable for us."
"They oughtn't to have given in in this way without letting the rest of us know first," said Braddy. "Just see what a corner it puts us in."
"All I can say is," said Tom Senior, "I'll be better satisfied when I know who _did_ collar that paper if Greenfield didn't."
"Oh, but," said Simon, seeing a chance, "I can assure you I saw him when he took it. I was going--"
"Shut up, you great booby!" cried Ricketts; "who asked _you_ anything about it?"
Simon modestly retired hereupon, and Braddy took up the talk.
"Yes, who did take the paper? that's it. Greenfield must have done it. Why, he as good as admitted it last term."
"Well, then, it's very queer those fellows making up to him," said Ricketts. "It's no use our trying to send the fellow to Coventry when the others don't back us up."
"Wraysford always was daft about Greenfield," said Tom Senior, "but I am astonished at Pembury and Bullinger."
"All I can say is," said Braddy, "Greenfield will have to ask me before I have anything to do with him."
"And do you know," said Ricketts, "I heard to-day he is down to play in the match against the County."
"Is he?" exclaimed Braddy in excitement; "very well, then. _I_ shall not play if he does. That's all about that."
Ricketts laughed.
"Awfully sorry, old man, but you're not in the fifteen this time."
Braddy's face was a picture at this moment--he turned red and blue and white in his astonishment.
"What!" he exclaimed, as soon as he could find words. "I'm not in the team!"
"You'll see the list on the notice board; you'd better go and look."
Off went the wretched Braddy to be convinced of his fate.
"You're in the team, Ricketts, I see," said Tom Senior. "Shall _you_ play if Greenfield does?"
"Don't know," said Ricketts. "A fellow doesn't get a chance to play against the County every day. It's precious awkward."
"So it is; that's just where we began, too," said Tom, philosophically. And, as a matter of fact, whenever these young gentlemen of the Fifth started the subject of Greenfield senior among themselves, they always found themselves in the end at the identical place from which they had set out.
Nor were they the only boys at Saint Dominic's in this dilemma. The Guinea-pigs and Tadpoles were equally taken aback by the new aspect of affairs. These young gentlemen had looked upon Oliver's "row" with his class as a peculiar mercy designed specially for their benefit. They had hardly known such a happy time as that during which the row had lasted. Did they want a pretext for a battle? Greenfield senior was a glorious bone of contention. Did they want an object for an indignation meeting? What better object could they have than Greenfield senior? Did they want an excuse generally for laziness, disobedience, and tumult? Greenfield senior served for this too. Indeed, the name of the Fifth Form Martyr had passed into a household word among the lower school, either of glory or reproach, and round it the small fry rallied, as round an old flag of battle.
But now, both friend and foe were aghast. To the Guinea-pigs half the charm of their position had been that they were Greenfield senior's sole champions in all Saint Dominic's. While every one else avoided him, they stuck to him, week-days and Sundays. Now, however, they discovered, with something like consternation, that they no longer had the field to themselves.
The sight of Greenfield senior walking down the passage one day, arm-in-arm with Wraysford, and the next day with one arm in Wraysford's and the other in Pembury's, and the day after between Pembury and Bullinger, with Wraysford and Stephen in the rear, struck bewilderment and bitter jealousy to their hearts.
They had come out into the passage to cheer, but they went away silently and sadly, feeling that their very occupation was departed.
Bramble, always quick to see a chance, took advantage as usual of this panic.
"Hullo, I say, Guinea-pigs, you can shut up shop now, you know. We're going to let off Greenfield senior this time, ain't we, Padger? Jolly fellow, Greenfield senior."
This was abominable! To have their hero and idol thus calmly taken out of their hands and appropriated by a set of sneaking Tadpoles was more than human patience could endure!
"Bah! A lot he'll care for _your_ letting him off!" exclaimed Paul, in dire contempt. "He wouldn't touch you with a shovel."
"Oh, yes, he would, though, wouldn't he, Padger? And what do you think, Guinea-pigs? _we're going to get Greenfield senior to take the chair at one of our meetings_!"
Bramble came out with the last triumphant announcement with a positive shout, which made the hearts of his adversaries turn cold. In vain they laughed the idea to scorn; in vain they argued that if for the last six months he had never said a word even to the Guinea-pigs, he would hardly now come and take up with the Tadpoles. Bramble and Padger insisted on their story.
"Now, you fellows," concluded Bramble, at the end of another oration; "those who say three cheers for Greenfield senior hold up--"
The infuriated Paul here hurled the cap of a brother Guinea-pig, who was standing near him, full at the face of the speaker, who thereupon, altering the current of his observations, descended from his form and "went for" his opponent.
From that day a keener war raged round the head of Greenfield senior than ever. Not of attack and defence of his character, but of rivalry as to whom should be accounted his foremost champions.
It was at this critical period in the history of Saint Dominic's that a new number of the _Dominican_ came out. Pembury had been compelled to write it nearly all himself, for, in the present state of divided feeling in the Fifth, he found it harder than ever to get contributions.
Even those of his own way of thinking, Oliver, Wraysford, and Bullinger, begged to be let off, and, indeed, the two former ingeniously pleaded that, as they were now really Sixth Form fellows (though remaining in their old class till the Doctor came home), they had no right to have a hand in the Fifth Form magazine. And their conscientious scruples on this ground were so strong that no persuasions of Anthony's could shake them. So the unlucky editor had finally, as on a previous occasion, to retire into private life for a season, and get the whole thing out himself, with only the aid of a few inches of "Sonits" from Simon.
But "what man has done man can do," and this time the editor's efforts were crowned with no less success than on the former occasion.
The _Dominican_ certainly did not seem to have lost its novelty, to judge by the crowd which once more assembled outside the classic portals of the Fifth, to peruse the contents of the now familiar big oak frame.
"School News" was the first item of Tony's bill of fare.
After announcing in appropriate terms the Doctor's illness, and "universal hope of seeing him back in all his former vigour" (one or two boys whistled low as they read this, and thought the editor might at least have been content to "speak for himself"), Anthony went on to announce the various school events which had happened since the publication of the last number. Christmas prize-day of course came in for a good share of the description, and contained a touch-off for everybody.
"The Guinea-pigs and Tadpoles," said the _Dominican_, "looked quite unearthly in their cleanliness. It was commonly reported that one or two of them had washed their faces twice in one week. But this is hardly credible. It is, however, a fact that Bramble was shut up in his study for half an hour with his grandmother and a basin of hot water, and that the conclusion come to from the yells and shrieks which proceeded from the torture-chamber that evening, and the appearance of the dear child next day, is that he undoubtedly underwent one scrubbing this term."
Bramble's face turned so purple at the reading of this that it was impossible to say whether or not any traces of the scouring still remained. He favoured Paul, who stood in front of him, with a furious kick, which that young gentleman, always punctual in his obligations, promptly repaid, and the two combatants somehow managed to miss a good deal of what immediately followed.
After describing the other incidents of prize-day, the _Dominican_ went on as follows:
"But the event of the day was the presentation of the Nightingale Scholarship, which will be sufficiently fresh in our readers' memories to need no comment here, save this one word--that the only Dominican who behaved himself like a gentleman during that remarkable scene was the winner of the scholarship himself!"
This was coming round with a vengeance! The Fifth had half expected it, and now they felt more uncomfortable than ever.
Nor did the succeeding paragraphs leave them much chance of recovery.
"The Waterston Exhibition, our readers will be glad to hear, has been won--and won brilliantly--by Oliver Greenfield, now of the Sixth. No fellow in Saint Dominic's deserves the honour better."
Then, as if his penitence were not yet complete, Pembury went on boldly farther on:
"Speaking of Greenfield senior, it is time some of us who have been doing him injustice for a whole term did what little we could to make amends now. So here goes. Take notice, all of you, that we, the undersigned, are heartily ashamed of our conduct to Greenfield senior, and desire all Saint Dominic's to know it. Signed, A. Pembury, H. Wraysford, T. Bullinger."
The effect of this manifesto was curious. Pembury himself had been unable to prophesy how it would be taken. The boys in front of the board, as they heard it read out, couldn't tell exactly whether to laugh or be serious over the paragraph. Most, however, did the latter, and hurried on to the next sentence:
"The following are also ashamed of themselves, but don't like to say so. The _Dominican_ means to give them a leg up:--Tom Senior, G. Ricketts, R. Braddy, and the rest of the Fifth, except Simon, who never was or could be ashamed of himself while he lived to write such pathetic, soul-stirring lines as the following 'Sonits:'"
[It was a great relief to one or two who stood by that Pembury had thus cunningly gone on from grave to gay, and left no pause after the very awkward paragraph about the Fifth.]
Sonit A.
To the _Dominican_.
I cannot write as I would like all in a noisy room
There's such a noise of mortal boys who sometimes go and come
Oh I will to the woods away all in the lonely shade
Where I no more of being disturbed need not to be afraid.
Sonit B.
To Dr Senior.
Dear Doctor I am very grieved to hear that you are not well
Oh cruel fate and yet methinks one cannot always tell
Things are so catching nowadays I wonder if I ever
Shall like unto the Doctor be by catching a low fever.
Sonit C.
To O-- G--.
Oh Greenfield melancholy wite hear me once before I go
'Tis sad to see the blossoms all in autumn time fall low
Canst thou recall that night in September when in the passage fair
I met you all so unexpectedly and you didn't seem to care
Oh may my hair turn white and me become a soreing lark
Before the memory of that day shines out in life's last spark.
[Wite, possibly wight.] This was beautiful. Saint Dominic's was beginning to appreciate poetry at last! Simon was positively delirious with triumph when, after the burst of laughter (he called it applause) which greeted the reading of this gem, some one cried out--
"Oh, I say! read that last one again, some one!" And then, amid redoubled hilarity, the whole effusion was encored.
The poet promptly sought out his enthusiastic admirer.
"Oh! I say," said he, "would you like a copy of it?"
"Eh--oh, rather!" was the reply.
"Very good. You won't mind if I put a few more verses in, will you? Pembury had to cut some out."
"My dear fellow, I shan't be happy unless I get at least twenty pages."
So off went the delighted Simon to work at this self-imposed task, and caring little about the rest of the _Dominican_.
But some of that was worth reading, too. Tony's leading article, for instance, was an important document. It was headed "Gone Up," and began, "Alas! our occupation's gone! No longer will the _Dominican_ be able to bring its sledge-hammer down on high places and walk into the Sixth. For two of our men, O Fifth!--Greenfield and Wraysford--have joined the classic ranks of those who eat toffee in the top form, and play 'odds and evens' under the highest desks of Saint Dominic's. We must be careful now, or we shall catch it. And yet we ought to congratulate the Sixth! At last they have got intelligence and high principle, and two good men behind a scrimmage among them; and more are coming! There's some hope for the Sixth yet, and we would not grudge even our two best men for such a good object as regenerating the top form of Saint Dominic's," and so on--not very flattering to the Sixth, or very comfortable for its two newest members, who, however, had prudently retired from the scene long ago, as soon as the first references to Oliver had been read out.
Then came "Notes from Coventry, continued," which were very brief. "Since our last, the population of Coventry has undergone a change. The former inhabitant has walked out with flying colours, and the place is empty. Who wants to go?"
Then came one or two odd paragraphs; one of them was:--
"By the way, the _Dominican_ wants to know why Loman is no longer a monitor? Do his engagements with friends in Maltby prevent his giving the necessary time to this duty? or are the Sixth beginning to see that if they want order in the school they must have fellows who have at least a little influence to do it? They have done well in appointing Wraysford. But why is Loman resigned? Who can tell? It's a riddle. A prize for the best answer in our next."
The finishing stroke, however, was Pembury's "Notes and Queries from Down Below," supposed to be of special interest to the Fourth Junior. The first was as follows:--
"Lessons.--Padger the Tadpole writes to ask, 'How do you do lessons?' The answer is a simple one, Padger. If you are a member of the Fourth Junior, as we have a vague idea you are, the way of 'doing' lessons there is as follows: Sit at a desk full of old cherry-stones, orange-peel, and dusty sherbet, and put your elbows on it. Then with your pen scatter as much ink as you conveniently can over your own collar and face, and everybody else, without unduly exerting yourself. After that kick your right and left neighbours; then carefully rub your hands in the dust and pass them several times over your countenance, all the while making the most hideous and abominable howls and shrieks you can invent. And then your lessons are 'done.'"
This paragraph so grievously incensed the honourable community at which it was directed, that for the first time for some months Guinea-pigs and Tadpoles made common cause to protest against the base insinuations it contained.
The "meeting" in the Fourth Junior that afternoon lasted, on and off, from half-past four to half-past eight. Among the speakers were Bramble, Paul, and Stephen; while Padger, Walker, and Rook did very good execution with their fists. About half-past seven the dust was so dense that it was impossible to see across the room; but those who knew reported that there was another row on about Greenfield senior, and that Paul and Padger were having their twenty-seventh round! Anyhow, the Guinea-pigs and Tadpoles missed the rest of the _Dominican_, which, however, only contained one other paragraph of special interest:
"To-morrow week the football match of the season, School against County, will be played in the Saint Dominic's meadow. We are glad to say the School team will be a crack one, including this time Greenfield senior, and excluding one or two of the 'incompetents' of last term. The following is the school fifteen:--Stansfield (football captain), Brown, Winter, Callonby, Duncan, Ricketts, T. Senior, Henderson, Carter, and Watkins, forwards; Wren (school captain) and Forrester (iv.), quarter-back; Greenfield and Bullinger, half-back; and Wraysford, back. With a team like this the school ought to give a good account of itself against our visitors."
This announcement was interesting in more than one respect. Greenfield _was_ in the team, Loman was _not_. _