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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/18863-8.txt b/18863-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..ecfad09 --- /dev/null +++ b/18863-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11952 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Loom of Youth, by Alec Waugh + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Loom of Youth + +Author: Alec Waugh + +Release Date: July 18, 2006 [EBook #18863] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LOOM OF YOUTH *** + + + + +Produced by Kathryn Lybarger, Josephine Paolucci and the +Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + + + + + +THE LOOM OF YOUTH + + + "Well, I mean there's Davenham now and--" + + "Davenham!" came the scornful retort. "What does it matter what + happens to Davenham? He's absolutely useless to the House, + rotten at games and spends his whole time reading about + fossils. Who cares a curse about Davenham!" + + "Oh I suppose you're right, but--" + + "My dear ass, of course I am right. Meredith is a simply + glorious fellow. Do you remember the way he brought down + Freeman in the Two Cock? Why, the House simply couldn't get on + without him." + + To Gordon all this conveyed very little. He had no idea who + Meredith or Davenham were. The only thing he realised was that + for those who wore a blue and gold ribbon laws ceased to exist. + It was apparently rather advantageous to get into the Fifteen. + He had not looked on athletics in that light before. Obviously + his preparatory school had failed singularly to keep level with + the times. He had always been told by the masters there that + games were only important for training the body. But at + Fernhurst they seemed the one thing that mattered. To the + athlete all things are forgiven. There was clearly a lot to + learn. + + + + "To him who desireth much, much is given; and to him who + desireth little, little is given; but to neither according to + the letter of his desire." + +GILBERT CANNAN + + + + +_The Loom of Youth_ + + +ALEC WAUGH + +Methuen + +First published in Great Britain 1917 +Reprinted July 1917, August 1917, September 1917 (twice) +November 1917, January 1918, March 1918, October 1918, +1919, 1921, 1930, 1933, 1945 +Cassell's Pocket Library, 1928 +Penguin Abridged Edition, 1942 +New edition reset and revised 1955 +Reprinted 1972 + +This edition published 1984 +by Methuen London Ltd +11 New Fetter Lane, London EC4P 4EE + +Copyright (c) Alec Waugh 1917 +ISBN 0 413 54970 4 (hardback) +ISBN 0 413 54980 1 (paperback) + +Printed and bound in Great Britain +by Richard Clay (The Chaucer Press) Ltd +Bungay, Suffolk + +This book is available in both a hardcover and paperback edition. The +paperback is solid subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of +trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out, or otherwise circulated +without the Publisher's prior consent in any form of binding or cover +other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition +including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser. + + * * * * * + +Transcriber's Note: Minor typos have been corrected in text. There is +one place where a subscript is used and is designated by an underscore +and curly brackets thus: H_{2}O. + + * * * * * + + + + +_Dedicatory Letter to Arthur Waugh_ + + +My Dear Father, + +This book, which I am bringing you, is a very small return for all you +have given me. In every mood, in every phase of my shifting pilgrimage, +I have found you ever the same--loving, sympathetic, wise. You have been +with me in my success, and in my happiness, in my failures and in my +disappointments, in the hours when I have followed wandering fires. +There has never yet come to me a moment when I did not know that I had +but to stretch out my hand to find you at my side. In return for so +much, this first book of mine is a very small offering. + +But yet I bring it to you, simply because it is my first. For whatever +altars I may have raised by the wayside, whatever ephemeral loyalties +may have swayed me, my one real lodestar has always been your love, and +sympathy, and guidance. And as in life it has always been to you first +that I have brought my troubles, my aims, my hopes, so in the world of +ideas it is to you that I would bring this, the first-born of my dreams. + +Accept it. For it carries with it the very real and very deep love of a +most grateful son. + +A.W. + + + + +CONTENTS + + +Preface _page_ 9 + + +BOOK I: WARP AND WOOF + +I Groping 15 + +II Finding his Feet 21 + +III The New Philosophy 31 + +IV New Faces 44 + +V Emerging 52 + +VI Clarke 62 + +VII When One is in Rome 69 + + +BOOK II: THE TANGLED SKEIN + +I Quantum Mutatus 79 + +II Healthy Philistinism 102 + +III Tin Gods 119 + +IV Through a Glass Darkly 130 + + +BOOK III: UNRAVELLING THE THREADS + +I Common Room Faces 134 + +II Carnival 169 + +III Broadening Outlook 179 + +IV Thirds 185 + +V Dual Personality 196 + +VI The Games Committee 200 + +VII Rebellion 208 + +VIII The Dawning of many Dreams 213 + + +BOOK IV: THE WEAVING + +I The Twilight of the Gods 226 + +II Setting Stars 239 + +III Romance 242 + +IV The Dawn of Nothing 249 + +V The Things that Seem 259 + +VI The Tapestry Completed 277 + + + + +PREFACE TO NEW EDITION + + +Books have their fates and this one's has been curious. I wrote it +between January and March 1916, when I was seventeen and a half years +old and in camp at Berkhamsted with the Inns of Court O.T.C. I loathed +it there, everything about it, the impersonal military machine, the +monotonous routine of drills and musketry, the endless foot-slogging, +the perpetual petty fault-finding. I kept comparing my present life with +that which I had been leading ten, eighteen, thirty months ago at +Sherborne, as a schoolboy. + +My four years there had been very happy. I was the kind of a boy who +gets the most out of a public school. I loved cricket and football and +was reasonably good at them. I was in the first XV and my last summer +headed the batting averages. My father had lit in me a love of poetry +and an interest in history and the classics. More often than not I went +into a class-room looking forward to the hour that lay ahead. I enjoyed +the whole competitive drama of school life--the cups and caps and form +promotions. As I marched as a cadet over Ashridge Park I remembered that +a year ago I had been bicycling down to the football field for a punt +about on Upper. As I listened to a lecture on the establishment of an +infantry brigade, I thought of the sixth form sitting under that fine +scholar and Wordsworthian Nowell Smith to a discussion of Victorian +poetry. In the evenings on my way to night operations, passing +Berkhamsted School and looking at the lighted windows, I would think, +"At Sherborne now they are sitting round the games study fire waiting +for the bell to ring for hall". Day by day, hour by hour, I pictured +myself back at school. + +I was in a nostalgic mood, but I was also in a rebellious mood. +Intensely though I had enjoyed my four years at Sherborne, I had been in +constant conflict with authority. That conflict, so it seemed to me, had +been in the main caused and determined by authority's inability or +refusal to recognise the true nature of school life. The Public School +system was venerated as a pillar of the British Empire and out of that +veneration had grown a myth of the ideal Public School boy--Kipling's +Brushwood Boy. In no sense had I incarnated such a myth and it had been +responsible, I felt, for half my troubles. I wanted to expose it. Those +moods of nostalgia and rebellion fused finally in an imperious need to +relive my school days on paper, to put it all down, term by term, +exactly as it had been, to explain, interpret, justify my point of view. + +I wrote the book in six and a half weeks, getting up at half past four +every morning and returning to my manuscript at night after the day's +parades. I posted it, section by section, to my father who corrected the +spelling and punctuation, interjected an occasional phrase and sent it +to be typed. I never revised it. As the manuscript shows, it was printed +as it was written, paragraph by paragraph. + +The book after two or three refusals was accepted by Grant Richards and +published in July 1917 in the same week that I was posted as a +machine-gun second-lieutenant to the B.E.F. in France. It could not have +come out under luckier auspices. It had an immediate news value. There +was a boom in soldier poets. Robert Graves, Siegfried Sassoon, Robert +Nichols, W.J. Turner had recently made their debuts. Here was a soldier +novelist, the first and in his teens. As always in war-time there was a +demand for books and there was that summer a dearth of novels. A spirit +of challenge and criticism was in the air. The war after three years was +still "bogged down" and public opinion attributed allied failings in the +field to mismanagement in high places. The rebelliousness of _The Loom +of Youth_ was in tune with the temper of the hour. Finally I had the +immense advantage of being the son of Arthur Waugh. My father as a +critic and a publisher was one of the most loved and respected figures +in the world of letters. Many were anxious to give his son a chance. + +The book had a flattering reception. Nothing of any particular interest +was being published at the moment and reviewers welcomed it. J.C. +Squire, Gerald Gould, Ralph Straus, C.K. Scott-Moncrieff, E.B. Osborn, +all made it their book of the week. Nor was it noticed only in the book +sections. Richards had suggested that Thomas Seccombe who was then +history professor at Sandhurst and had introduced the book to him, +should write a preface. That preface discussed the Public School system +in the light of contemporary events. The system, Seccombe wrote, "has +fairly helped, you may say, to get us out of the mess of August 1914. +Yes, but it contributed heavily to get us into it." The preface +encouraged and helped a journalist to use the book as the text for a +general article. Within a month it had received twenty-four columns of +reviews and was in its third impression. Grant Richards told my father +that with any luck he would sell five thousand copies. + +That was at the end of the August. Three weeks later the schools went +back and half the housemasters in the country found their desks littered +with letters from anxious parents demanding an assurance that their +Bobbie was not subject to the temptations described in this alarming +book. In self-defence the schoolmasters hit back and by mid-November the +book had become the centre of violent controversy. In many schools the +book was banned and several boys were caned for reading it. Canon Edward +Lyttleton, the ex-headmaster of Eton, wrote a ten-page article in _The +Contemporary_--then an influential monthly--explaining how biased and +partial a picture the school gave. _The Spectator_ ran for ten weeks and +_The Nation_ for six a correspondence filling three or four pages an +issue in which schoolmaster after schoolmaster asserted that whatever +might be true of "Fernhurst", at his school it was all very different. +Grant Richards adeptly fanned the conflagration. He had initiated that +summer an original style of advertising. He inserted each week in the +_Times Literary Supplement_ a half column of gossip about his books and +authors. It was set in small heavy black type, and caught the eye. +Richards was a good writer and it was very readable. He was, I think, +the first publisher to exploit the publicity value of unfavourable +comment. Richard Hughes, at that time in the sixth form at Charterhouse, +wrote, as his weekly essay, an attack on _The Loom of Youth_. His form +master, Dames Longworth, a fine old Tory, sent it up to _The Spectator_, +as a counterblast to such "pernicious stuff". Next week Grant Richards +quoted him. Mr Dames Longworth called the book "pernicious stuff", but +Clement Shorter prophesied in _The Sphere_ that it would prove "the +Uncle Tom's Cabin of the Public School system". By Christmas the book +was a best seller. + +A modern reader will wonder what all this fuss and indignation was +about. Two points are to be remembered. First that before World War I +Britain's imperial destiny was never questioned, and the Public School +system as a bulwark of Empire was held sacrosanct. Second that no book +before _The Loom of Youth_ had accepted as part of the fabric of School +life the inevitable emotional consequences of a monastic herding +together for eight months of the year of thirteen year old children and +eighteen year old adolescents. On that issue such a complete conspiracy +of silence had been maintained that when fathers were asked by their +wives, and schoolmasters by parents who had not themselves been at +public schools whether "such things really could take place", the only +defence was a grudging admission, "Perhaps in a bad house, in a bad +school, in a bad time." + +I followed the controversy with mixed feelings. I was delighted of +course at the book's success. At the same time I was distressed at being +accused of having libelled the school where I had been so happy, to +which I was so devoted, and to so many of whose masters--in particular +its headmaster--I owed so much. + +Well, that is all a long long time ago, and usually nothing is more dead +and dated than the book which once caused controversy. Yet _The Loom of +Youth_ has continued to sell steadily from one year to the next; in 1928 +it was included in Cassell's Pocket Library; in 1942 it was issued as a +Penguin and now that the original plates are wearing out, Mr Martin +Secker and the directors of The Richards Press feel that it is worth +their while to reset the type and give the book another lease of life. I +hope that their confidence will be justified. If it is, it will be for +reasons very different from those which made _The Loom of Youth_ a best +seller in 1917. The modern reader will find nothing here to shock or +startle him. Several years ago a friend was reading the book in my +company. "When do I reach _the_ scene?" he asked. I looked over his +shoulder. "You've passed it, ten pages back," I told him. At the same +time the book is not presented as a "period piece". Though England +to-day is a different country, socially and economically, from what it +was in 1911 when I went to Sherborne, I do not think that in essentials +the life of the Public School boy has greatly changed. Most schools are +larger than they were, but they have retained the same traditions and +ideals; there is the same atmosphere of rivalry and competing loyalties; +youth has the same basic problems, is fired by the same ambitions, beset +by the same doubts. And if the modern reader, after turning a page or +two finds his attention held and wants to go on reading, it will mean +that this book has become at last what in fact it was always meant to +be--a realistic but romantic story of healthy adolescence set against +the background of an average English Public School. + +April, 1954. + +Alec Waugh + + + + +BOOK I: WARP AND WOOF + + "While I lived I sought no wings, + Schemed no heaven, planned no hell; + But, content with little things, + Made an earth and it was well." + + RICHARD MIDDLETON. + + + + +CHAPTER I: GROPING + + +There comes some time an end to all things, to the good and to the bad. +And at last Gordon Caruthers' first day at school, which had so combined +excitement and depression as to make it unforgettable, ended also. +Seldom had he felt such a supreme happiness as when he stepped out at +Fernhurst station, and between his father and mother walked up the +broad, white road that led past the Eversham Hotel to the great grey +Abbey, that watches as a sentinel over the dreamy Wessex town. There are +few schools in England more surrounded with the glamour of mediæval days +than Fernhurst. Founded in the eighth century by a Saxon saint, it was +the abode of monks till the Dissolution of the Monasteries. Then after a +short interregnum Edward VI endowed it and restored the old curriculum. +The buildings are unchanged. It is true that there have sprung up new +class-rooms round the court, and that opposite the cloisters a huge +yellow block of buildings has been erected which provides workshops and +laboratories, but the Abbey and the School House studies stand as they +stood seven hundred years ago. To a boy of any imagination, such a place +could not but waken a wonderful sense of the beautiful. And Gordon +gazing from the school gateway across to the grey ivy-clad studies was +taken for a few moments clean outside himself. The next few hours only +served to deepen this wonder and admiration. For Fernhurst is prodigal +of associations. The School House dining-hall is a magnificent +oak-panelled room, where generations of men have cut their names; and +above the ledge on which repose the silver challenge cups the house has +won, is a large statue of King Edward VI looking down on the row of +tables. When he first entered the hall, Gordon pitied those in other +houses immensely. It seemed to him that though in "the outhouses"--as +they were called at Fernhurst--the eugenic machinery might be more up to +date, and the method of lighting and heating far more satisfactory, yet +it could not be the same there as in the School House; and he never +quite freed himself of the illusion that, if the truth were known, every +outhouse boy rather regretted that he had not chosen otherwise. For +indeed the bloods of other houses are very often found sitting over the +fire in the School House games study. + +Until about six o'clock Gordon could not have been happier, his future +seemed so full of possibilities. But when his father and mother left him +to catch the afternoon train back to town, and the evening train brought +with it a swarm of boys in the most wonderful ties and socks, and all so +engrossed in their own affairs, and so indifferent to his, Gordon began +to feel very lonely. Supper was not till nine and he had three hours to +put in. Very disconsolately he wandered round the green slopes above the +town where was the town football ground and where in the summer term +those members of the Fifteen who despised cricket would enjoy their +quiet pipe and long for the rains of November. But that walk did not +take long, especially as he did not dare to go out of the sight of the +Abbey for fear of getting lost. When he returned to the House the court +was loud with shouts and laughter. Everyone had something to do. There +was the luggage to fetch from the day-room. The town porter, known +generally as Slimy Tim, was waiting to be tipped. Health certificates +had to be produced. There was a sporting chance of finding in Merriman's +second-hand bookshop--out of bounds during term-time--an English version +of Vergil and Xenophon. There were a hundred things to do for everyone +except Gordon. There were several other new boys, doubtless, to be found +among this unending stream of bowler hats. But he saw no way of +discovering them. He did, it is true, make one attempt. Very bravely he +walked up to a rather bored individual who was leaning against the door +that led into the studies and asked him if he was a new boy. His +reception was not friendly. The person in question was Sandham of the +Lower Sixth, who had been made a house prefect and was very conscious of +it, and who was also well aware of the fact that he was not very tall. +His friends called him "The Cockroach"; and Gordon was told politely to +go elsewhere. He did not, however, go where he was told, but sauntered +sadly down to the matron's room, only to find it full of people all with +some complaint. Some had lost their keys, others were furious that their +people should have been charged for biscuits and sultana cake that they +had never had, but the greater part were wanting to know why the old +bathroom had been turned into a study for the Chief's secretary, while +they had been given in exchange a lot of small zinc hip-baths. To the +smaller members of the House this change was rather popular. On the days +when there were only four baths among eighty, it did not matter very +much to them how large they were, if they were always occupied by the +bloods, while however small the new baths might be, there were +sufficient to go round. The bloods did not look on the matter in this +light. + +Gordon walked from room to room utterly miserable. Nobody took the +slightest notice of him, only one person asked his name, and that was a +small person of one term's standing who wanted to show that he was a +power in the land. At last, however, the old cracked bell rang out for +supper, and very thankfully he took his place among the new boys at the +bottom of the day-room table. Evening prayers in the School House had +once been rather a festive occasion, and a hymn chosen by the head of +the House was sung every night. It had been the custom to choose a hymn +with some topical allusion. For instance, on the evening when the House +tutor had given a hundred lines to every member of the day-room for +disturbing a masters' meeting, by playing cricket next door, they chose +_Fierce raged the Tempest o'er the Deep_; and on one occasion when an +unpopular prefect had been unexpectedly expelled the House was soothed +with the strains of _Peace, Perfect Peace_. But those days were over. A +new headmaster had come with an ear for music, and the riot of melody +that surged from the V. A table seemed to him not only blasphemous, but +also inartistic. And so hymn-singing stopped, and only a few prayers +were read instead. + +On this particular evening the Chief was in high spirits. It was +characteristic of his indomitable kindliness and optimism that, though +he ended every term in a state of exhaustion, having strained his energy +and endurance to the breaking-point, he invariably began the new term in +a spirit of geniality and hope. It was not till years later that Gordon +came to understand the depth of unselfish idealism that burned behind +the quiet modesty of the Chief; but even at first sight the least +impressionable boy was conscious of being under the influence of an +unusual personality. There was nothing of the theatrical pedagogue about +him; he surrounded himself with no trappings of a proud authority. His +voice was gentle and persuasive; his smile as winning almost as a +child's. The little speech with which he welcomed the House back, and a +passing allusion, half humorous, half appealing, to the changes in the +bath-rooms were perhaps too homely to impress the imagination of the +average inhuman boy. But they were the sincere expression of the man--an +idealist, with an unfailing faith in human nature, founded in an even +deeper faith in Christianity. + +When he had gone, Gordon ventured to look round at the sea of faces. On +a raised dais was the Sixth Form table. In the middle, haughty, +self-conscious, with sleepy-looking but watchful eyes, sat the captain +of the House, Lovelace major, in many ways the finest athlete Fernhurst +ever produced, who had already got his County cap and played "Rugger" +for Richmond. Gordon had seen him bat at Lord's for the Public Schools +_v._ M.C.C., and before he had come to Fernhurst, Lovelace had been the +hero of his imagination; ambition could hardly attain a higher pedestal. + +There were about twelve in all at the Sixth Form table, of whom the +majority were prefects; and no one could leave the hall till one of them +went out. After a few minutes' conversation, in which no one ate +anything, although plates of hot soup were busily provided, someone got +up and went out. Immediately there was a rush towards the door, and +Gordon was borne down the long winding passage to the foot of the +stairs that led to the dormitories. Here, however, for some reason, +everyone stopped and began to talk at the top of their voices. Gordon +saw no reason for the delay, but thought it better to follow the throng, +and waited. As a matter of fact, the last train up from town had just +come in. There are some who always demand the last ounce of flesh; there +are always those who return by the last possible train, although it +stops at every station on the way. Suddenly, however, the House tutor +shouted from the top of the stairs, "Lights out in the upper dormitories +by nine-thirty," and the procession moved upstairs. + +The upper dormitories in the School House were, like most other school +dormitories, a dismal spectacle. There was a long passage running down +from the House tutor's room, and on the left were doors leading into +long, bare rooms, with the usual red-quilted beds and the usual +wash-hand basins. On the right-hand side was the bathroom. The upper +dormitories were occupied by the smaller boys of the House. Once a +prefect had been put in charge over each room, but the system did not +work very well, and soon came to an abrupt end, so that there was only +the House tutor to keep them in order till the prefects went to bed in +the lower dormitories an hour later; and then any sound was promptly +dealt with. Gordon had been placed in the largest room, which was known +as "the nursery." It contained ten beds, and only four of its +inhabitants were of more than one term's standing. Among other less +enviable claims to fame, it had the reputation of being the finest +football-playing dormitory, and every night its members would race up +from supper to play their game before the House tutor came to put out +lights at nine-fifteen. The new boys took it in turns to keep "cave," +and it must be owned that for the first few weeks the sentinel rather +preferred the rôle of onlooker to that of player, and found it hard to +sympathise with those who were continually flinging abuse at the huge +football crowds at Stamford Bridge. This night there was, of course, +hardly any ragging. There was so much to talk about, and some faint +interest was even taken in the new boys, for two very important-looking +young people, Turner and Roberts, swaggered into the dormitories "just +to have a squint at the new kids," but after a casual inspection Turner +said in a lordly manner, "Good lord! what a crew," and the pair sought +better things elsewhere. Turner and Roberts were very insignificant +people during the daytime: they were little use at games, and even a +year's spasmodic cribbing had only managed to secure them a promotion +from the Second Form to the Third. But when the evening came they were +indeed great men, and ruled over a small dormitory that contained, +besides themselves, only four new boys who looked up to them as gods and +hung on their every word. + +But very soon the wanderings of these two gentlemen ceased, and at the +sound of the House tutor's tread down the passage they fled very +ingloriously to their own abode. Mr Parkinson, the House tutor, was one +of the most popular masters in the school. He had only just missed his +blue at Oxford, and since he had gone down had devoted all his energies +to training on the junior members of the House at football and cricket. +He was in rather a hurry this particular evening, as he had to make out +the list of studies, but he shook hands with everyone, and asked all the +new boys their names before turning out the lights, with instructions +not to kick up too much row. + +At last Gordon was at rest. For ten hours at least he would not have to +worry about anything. He lay back in bed contentedly and listened to the +conversation. As was natural, the talk was at first only about the +holidays, but it soon drifted round to school politics, and one Bradford +began to hold forth on the composition of the Fifteen, as if he was the +captain's bosom friend. To Gordon, of course, most of the names +mentioned signified nothing. He gathered that the great Lovelace was +going to be captain and was sure to have rows with Buller the games +master, but besides this he picked up very little. Gradually the +conversation turned on individuals, and especially on a certain +Meredith, who was apparently a double-first, with a reputation that did +not end on the cricket pitch. + +"You know I think Meredith goes a bit too far at times," came a voice +from the middle of the room. + +Bradford rose at once. "What the hell do you mean? Meredith go too far? +Why, he is a splendid wicket-keeper, and far and away the finest +half-back in the school. You must allow a good deal to a blood like +him." + +"Oh, I know he is a magnificent athlete and all that, but don't you +think he does rather a lot of harm in the House?" + +"Harm? Who to?" + +"Well, I mean there's Davenham now and----" + +"Davenham!" came the scornful retort. "What does it matter what happens +to Davenham? He's absolutely useless to the House, rotten at games and +spends his whole time reading about fossils. Who cares a curse about +Davenham!" + +"Oh, I suppose you are right, but----" + +"My dear ass, of course I am right. Meredith is a simply glorious +fellow. Do you remember the way he brought down Freeman in the Two Cock? +Why, the House simply couldn't get on without him." + +To Gordon all this conveyed very little. He had no idea who Meredith or +Davenham were. The only thing he realised was that for those who wore a +blue and gold ribbon laws ceased to exist. It was apparently rather +advantageous to get into the Fifteen. He had not looked on athletics in +that light before. Obviously his preparatory school had failed +singularly to keep level with the times. He had always been told by the +masters there that games were only important for training the body. But +at Fernhurst they seemed the one thing that mattered. To the athlete all +things are forgiven. There was clearly a lot to learn. + + + + +CHAPTER II: FINDING HIS FEET + + +The new boy's first week at a Public School is probably the most +wretched he will ever pass in his life. It is not that he is bullied. +Boots are not shied at him when he says his prayers; he is not tossed in +a blanket; it is merely that he is utterly lonely, is in constant fear +of making mistakes, is never certain of what may happen next, and so +makes for himself troubles that do not exist. And when Gordon wrote +home to his people at the end of his second day it did not need a very +clever mother to read between the lines and see that her son was +hopelessly miserable. + +His worries began at once. On the first day of term discipline is, of +course, very slack. There is only an hour's work, which is, for the most +part, spent in finding out what books are needed. There is no +preparation set for the evening, breakfast is at eight-thirty instead of +seven-forty-five, and it does not matter how late anyone comes in. And +so when, at eight o'clock, the School House butler, who had watched many +generations pass by with the same imperturbable smile, walked down the +dormitories ringing a horribly cracked bell, no one paid any attention. +There was tons of time. Ordinarily no one ever got up till the quarter, +and to-day--well, twenty past would be ample. A voice from the end of +the room muttered drowsily: "Damn that bell." But besides that nothing +happened. Gordon was fearfully perplexed. He had expected everyone to +leap out of bed, seize a towel and rush to the shower-bath, but no one +had moved. Could it be possible that they were still asleep and had not +heard the bell? It seemed incredible, but it might be so. And if it +were, ought he to wake them up? It seemed rather cheek for a new boy, +but then, supposing the whole dormitory were late. + +Greatly daring, he stretched out a hand and touched the arm of the boy +sleeping next him. The individual in question merely turned over +subconsciously and said something fierce. Gordon relapsed into a state +of terror. During the next quarter of an hour he passed through all the +miseries of an unknown fear. Only twenty-four hours ago he had been at +breakfast with his father and mother in his home at Hampstead. It seemed +years ago. Here he was face to face with horrible, unexplained things. +The suspense grew unbearable. He was sure he heard someone moving next +door; the others were getting up; he would be late his first day. What a +start! But just as he was visioning the most dire punishments, James, an +insignificant person of one term's standing, slowly pushed back the +bed-clothes, picked up a towel and lethargically moved towards the door. +Gordon jumped up, happy at last, and made for the huge new bathroom. It +had an iron floor, sloped so as to allow water to drain off easily, and +contained six small baths and showers fixed above them. The room was +practically empty. He was glad of this; he did not want to have a shower +with a lot of people looking on. The water was very cold--he was used to +a tepid bath; but by the time he had begun to dry, the place was full of +boys all shouting at once. No one is more loud or insistent than he who +has just ceased to be labelled new. He likes everyone to know how +important he is, how free and how unfettered by rules, and the best way +to this end is to shout and curse everything. The room was filled with +shouts of "Good God! are we expected to get clean in babies' tubs?" +"What a fool the Chief is." "Oh, damn your eyes, that's my towel." "No, +there's yours, you blasted idiot." Gordon was immensely shocked at the +language. He had come from a preparatory school run by a master with +strong views on swearing, and for that matter on everything. He had been +kept thoroughly in order. He got out of the bathroom as quickly as +possible and made for his dormitory. It did not take long to dress. +There was indeed very little time, and as the half-hour struck, he was +carried down in the throng to the dining-hall. + +Breakfast is always rather a scramble, and nowhere more so than at a +Public School. The usual Fernhurst breakfast lasted about ten minutes. +Hardly anyone spoke, only the ring of forks on plates was heard and an +occasional shout of "Tea" from the Sixth Form table. They alone could +shout at meals, the others had to catch the servant's eye. To-day, +however, there was a good deal of conversation. Those who had come by +the last train had not seen all their friends the night before. There +was much shaking of hands. In the middle a loud voice from the head of +the Sixth Form table shouted out: "Silence! I want to see all new boys +in my study at nine o'clock." It was Clarke, the head of the House, who +spoke. He was tall, with pince-nez, one of those brilliant scholars who +are too brilliant to get scholarships. He was a fanatic in many ways, a +militarist essentially, a firebrand always. There was bound to be +trouble during his reign. He could never let anything alone. He was a +great fighter. + +Gordon looked up with immense awe. Clarke looked so powerful, so +tremendous; even Lovelace himself was not much greater. He wondered +vaguely what would be said to them. + +And indeed Clarke was even more imposing in his own study. The back of +the room sloped down into a low alcove in which hung strange Egyptian +curtains. The walls were decorated with a few Pre-Raphaelite +photogravures. Behind the door was a pile of cases. Clarke sat with his +back to the window. + +"Now you are all quite new to school life," he began, "entirely ignorant +of its perils and dangers, and you are now making the only beginning you +can ever make. You start with clean, fresh reputations. I don't know how +long you will remain so, but you must remember that you are members of +the finest house in Fernhurst. Last year we had the two finest athletes, +Wincheston and Lovelace, who played cricket for Leicestershire, and is +now captain of the House. We had also the two finest scholars, Scott and +Pembroke, both of whom won scholarships. Now we can't all be county +cricketers, we can't all win scholarships, but we can all work to one +end with an unfailing energy. You will find prefects here who will beat +you if you play the ass. Well, I don't mind ragging much and it is no +disgrace to be caned for that. But it is a disgrace to be beaten for +slacking either at games or work. It shows that you are an unworthy +member of the House. Now I want all of you to try. Some of you will +perhaps never rise above playing on House games, or get higher than the +Upper Fifth. But if you can manage to set an example of keenness you +will have proved yourselves worthy of the School House, which is beyond +doubt _the_ House at Fernhurst. That's all I have got to say." + +That scene was in many ways the most vivid in Gordon's career. From that +moment he felt that he was no longer an individual, but a member of a +great community. And afterwards when old boys would run down Clarke, and +say how he had stirred up faction and rebellion, Gordon kept silent; he +knew that whatever mistakes the head of the House might have made, he +had the welfare of the House at heart and loved it with a blind, +unreasoning love that was completely misunderstood. + +It is inevitable that a new boy's first few days should be largely taken +up in making mistakes, and though it is easy to laugh about them +afterwards, at the time they are very real miseries. At Fernhurst, +things are not made easy for the new boy. Gordon found himself placed in +the Upper Fourth, under Fleming, a benevolent despot who was a master of +sarcasm and was so delighted at making a brilliant attack on some +stammering idiot that he quite forgot to punish him. "Young man, young +man," he would say, "people who forget their books are a confounded +nuisance, and I don't want confounded nuisances with me." Gordon got on +with him very well on the whole, as he had a sense of humour and always +laughed at his master's jokes. But he only did Latin and English in the +Fourth room, for the whole school was split up into sets, regardless of +forms, for sharing such less arduous labours as science, maths, French +and Greek. So that Gordon found himself suddenly appointed to Mr +Williams' Greek set No. V. with no idea of where to go. After much +wandering, he eventually found the Sixth Form room. He entered; someone +outside had told him to go in there. A long row of giants in stick-up +collars confronted him. The Chief sat on a chair reading a lecture on +the Maccabees. All eyes seemed turned on him. + +"Please, sir," he quavered out in trembling tones, "is this Mr Williams' +Greek set, middle school No. V?" + +There was a roar of laughter. Gordon fled. After about five more +minutes' ineffectual searching he ran into a certain Robertson in the +cloisters. Now Robertson played back for the Fifteen. + +"I say, are you one of the new boys for Williams' set?" + +"Yes." + +"Well, look here, he's setting us a paper, and I don't know much about +it, and I rather want to delay matters. So look here, hide yourself for +a few minutes. I am just going to find Meredith and have a chat." + +For ten minutes Gordon wandered disconsolately about the courts. When at +last Robertson returned with his protégé the hour was well advanced, and +there would be no need for Robertson to have to waste his preparation +doing an imposition. + +On another occasion one of the elder members of his form told him to go +to "Bogus" for French. Now "Bogus" was short for the Bogus officer, and +was the unkind appellation of one Rogers. Tall, ascetic and superior, +with the air of a great philosopher, he had, like Richard Feverel's +uncle, Adrian Harley, "attained that felicitous point of wisdom from +which one sees all mankind to be fools." He was one of the happy few who +are really content; for in the corps as Officer Commanding he could +indulge continuously in his favourite pastime of hearing his own voice, +and as a clerk in orders the pulpit presented admirable opportunities +for long talks that brooked no interruptions. In the common room his +prolix anecdotes were not encouraged. But in the pulpit there was no +gainsaying him. His dual personality embodied the spirit of "the Church +Militant," a situation the humour of which the School did not fail to +grasp. But of all this Gordon, of course, knew nothing. After a long +search for this eminent divine, in perfect innocence he went up to a +master he saw crossing the courts. + +"Please, sir, can you tell me where Mr Bogus' class-room is?" He did not +understand till weeks afterwards why the master took such a long time to +answer, and seemed so hard put to it not to laugh. + +The story provided amusement in the common room for many days. Rogers +was not popular. + +It was in this atmosphere of utter loneliness and inability to do +anything right that Gordon's first week passed. Of the other new boys +none of them seemed to him very much in his line. There was Foster, +good-looking and attractive, but plausible and insincere. There was +Rudd, a scholar who had passed into the Fifth, spectacled, of sallow +appearance, and with a strange way of walking. Collins was not so bad, +but his mind ran on nothing but football and billiard championships. The +rest were nonentities, the set who drift through their six years, making +no mark, hurting no one, doing little good. Finally they pass out into +the world to swell the rout of civilised barbarians whom it "hurts to +think" and who write to the papers, talk a lot about nothing and then +die and are forgotten. The Public School system turns out many of these. +For it loves mediocrity, it likes to be accepted unquestioningly as was +the Old Testament. But times change. The Old Testament and the Public +School system are now both of them in the melting-pot of criticism. + +For the most part Gordon kept to himself. No one took any notice of him, +for he did nothing worthy of notice. He had rather looked forward to his +first game of football, for he had been quite a decent half-back at his +preparatory school. He might perhaps do something brilliant. But for his +first two days he wasn't allowed even to play a game. With the other new +boys he shivered in the autumn wind while Meredith, who rather +surprisingly seemed quite an ordinary sort of person, instructed them in +how to pack down. They were then told to watch the Upper game and see +how football should be played. It was here that Gordon first saw Buller, +the games master. He was indeed a splendid person. He wore a +double-breasted coat, that on anyone else would have looked ridiculous, +and even so was strikingly original. He had the strong face of one who +had fought every inch of his way. It was a great sight to see "the +Bull," as he was called, take a game; he rushed up and down the field +cursing and swearing. His voice thundered over the ground. It was the +first game after the summer holidays, and everyone felt rather flabby. +At half-time the great man burst out: "I have played football for +twenty-five years, I coached Oxford teams and Gloucestershire teams, led +an English scrum, and for fifteen years I have taught footer here, but +never saw I such a display! Shirking, the whole lot of you! Get your +shoulders down and shove. Never saw anything like it. Awful!" The Bull +said this to every team at least three times every season, but he was +every bit as generous with his praise as with his blame when things went +well, and he was a great man, a personality. Even a desultory Pick-Up +woke into excitement when the shrill, piping voice of a full-back came +in with, "'The Bull's' coming." There was only one man in Fernhurst who +was not afraid of him, and that was Lovelace, who was indeed afraid of +nothing, and who towered over his contemporaries by the splendour of his +athletic achievements, and the strength of an all-mastering +personality. + +On the next day Gordon had to watch another Upper game. This time "the +Bull" was more or less quiet. Lovelace was at the top of his form, and +Meredith twice cut through brilliantly and scored between the posts. +Then life seemed to Buller very good. After the game he rolled up to his +house perfectly satisfied, whistling to himself. It was not until the +Saturday that Gordon actually played in a game. He was originally +performing on the Pick-Up; but after a few minutes he was fetched to +fill a gap in a House game. He was shoved into the scrum, was perfectly +useless, and spent his whole time trying to escape notice. Only once he +got really near the ball. Just before half-time the ball was rolling +slowly towards him, the opposing full-back had failed to reach touch. +Gordon, steadying himself as at soccer, took a tremendous kick at the +ball, which screwed off his foot, and landed in the hands of the outside +three-quarter, who easily outpaced the defence and scored. + +"You bloody little fool," said someone. "For God's sake, no soccer +tricks here." + +Gordon did not attempt to repeat the performance. He was supremely +wretched, and merely longed for the day to end. No one understood him, +or even wanted to. His home became a very heaven to him during these +days. + +But sooner or later pain grows into a custom. The agonies of Prometheus +and Ixion must after a little while have ceased to cause anything more +than boredom. As soon as the mind is accustomed to what is before it, +there is an end of grief. It is the series of unexpected blows that +hurts. And so, Gordon after his first week found that life was not so +hard after all. He knew where his various class-rooms were: his +time-table was complete; he had slipped into the routine, and found that +there was a good deal of merriment for anyone with a sense of humour. + +Fleming was a constant source of amusement. One day Mansell, a member of +the School House Fifteen, had forgotten his book. The usual penalty for +forgetting a book was a hundred lines. Mansell had been posted on the +Lower ground. If he did well, he might be tried for the Second Fifteen. +The book must be got at all costs. + +"Please, sir, may I go and get a handkerchief?" + +"Yes, young man, and hurry up about it." + +After five minutes Mansell returns, blowing his nose vigorously in his +silk handkerchief of many colours, for Mansell is by way of being a nut. +The book is under his coat. He sits down. + +Fleming fixes him with a stony glare--a long pause. + +"Mansell, take that book from under your coat." + +Reluctantly the miscreant does so. The dream of a Second's cap vanishes. + +"Conjurer!" + +The roar of laughter was sufficient to make Fleming forget all about +impositions. But Mansell did not perform very well on the Lower ground, +and Gordon overheard Lovelace remarking to Meredith that Mansell was +really rather a come-down for a School House cap. + +But, whatever his football performances, Mansell was a continual source +of laughter. He and Gordon were in the same Greek set and studied under +Mr Claremont, a dry humorist, who had adopted schoolmastering for want +of something better to do, had apparently regretted it afterwards, and +developed into a cynic. + +Mansell was easily the most popular man and the worst scholar in the +set, in which there were nineteen in all. Each week Claremont read out +the order. Gordon was usually about half-way up. Mansell fluctuated; one +week he "bagged" the translation Clarke was using for scholarship work. +He was second that week. But Clarke discovered the theft. There was a +fall. Many names were read in the weekly order, but Mansell's was not of +them. At last Claremont reached him. + +"Greek Prose, Mansell 19th; Greek Translation, Mansell 19th; Combined +Order, Mansell 19th." A roar of laughter. "Well, Mansell, I don't think +that a titter from your companions is a sufficient reward for a week's +bad work." + +The immediate result of this was that Mansell, realising that without +some assistance, printed or otherwise, his chances of a good report were +small, got leave from Clarke to fetch Gordon from the day-room to his +study in hall to prepare the work together. Gordon at once thought +himself a tremendous blood. There were advantages, after all, in being +moderately clever. + +About this time another incident helped to bring Gordon a little more +before the public eye. There had been a match in the afternoon _v._ +Milton A. Lovelace, as happens to all athletes at times, had an off day. +He missed an easy drop, fumbled two passes, and when the School were +leading by one point just before time, failed to collar his man, and +Milton A won by two points. "The Bull" raged furiously. Lovelace took +hall that night. He sat at the top of the table in the day-room and +gazed about, seeking someone on whom to vent his wrath. There was a dead +silence. Gordon was writing hard at a Latin prose. He looked up for a +second while thinking of a word. + +"Caruthers, are you working?" Lovelace snapped out. + +"Yes." + +"You liar, you were looking out of the window, weren't you?" + +"Yes, but----" + +"I'll teach you to tell lies to me. Come and see me at nine o'clock." + +Very miserably Gordon continued his work. After about a quarter of an +hour: + +"Caruthers, will you take six, or a hundred lines?" + +Gordon thought it was not the thing to take lines: + +"Six." + +"Will you have it now or afterwards?" + +"Now." + +"Hunter, go and get a cane from my study." + +Trembling with fear, Gordon heard Hunter's feet ring down the stone +passage, saw him running across to the studies by the old wall. There +was silence again; then the sound of feet; Hunter returned. + +"Come out here, Caruthers." + +It hurt tremendously; he went back wishing he had taken the hundred +lines. But the others thought it amazingly brave of him. Lovelace minor, +handsome, debonair, a swashbuckler in the teeth of authority, came up +afterwards and said: + +"Damned plucky of you. My brother's a bit of an ass at times." + +It was not really plucky, it was merely the fear of doing the wrong +thing. But the House thought that, after all, there might be something +in at least one of those wretched new kids. One or two people looked at +him almost with interest that night in hall. + +That was Gordon's first step. Afterwards things were not so hard. +Mansell began to think him rather a sport, as well as an indispensable +aid to classical studies, and Mansell counted for something. Meredith +smiled at him one day.... A public School was not such a bad hole after +all. And his cup of happiness seemed almost running over when one +afternoon after a game of rugger he overheard Lovelace minor say to +Hunter: + +"That kid Caruthers wasn't half bad." + +For he saw that the sure way to popularity lay in success on the field; +and because it was the weak as the strong point of his character that he +longed with a wild longing for power and popularity, it was already his +ambition to be some day captain of the House, and to lead his side to +glorious victories. + + + + +CHAPTER III: THE NEW PHILOSOPHY + + +"Of course 'the Bull' may be a jolly fine fellow and all that, but he +does exceed the limit at times." + +Lovelace minor was speaking; it was the evening after the Dulbridge +Match. The school had been beaten by twenty-seven points to three, by a +much faster and heavier side. Meredith had been ill and could not play. +Lovelace major had sprained his ankle in the first half, and though he +had gone on playing was very little use. The match had all along been a +foregone conclusion. But "the Bull" had lost his temper entirely. + +Hunter, Mansell and Jeffries, a Colt, who ran a good chance of getting +his House cap the next term, were discussing the matter. Gordon, who had +come in to do Thucydides, was sitting in the background, a little shy +and very interested. + +"Is it true," said Jeffries, "that your brother threatened to resign the +captaincy if he did not keep quiet?" + +"Yes. By Jove, my brother let him have it. That's what 'the Bull' wants; +he wants a fellow who's not afraid of him to stand up against him. +Fernhurst has been run by him long enough. He is a splendid fellow; and +when he's sane I almost love him. But he has become an absolute tyrant. +Thank God, he can't ride roughshod over my brother." + +Mansell here broke in. Mansell was rather fond of summing up. + +"It's like this. 'The Bull's' a gorgeous fellow, he loves Fernhurst, he +wants to love everyone in it. But he does not understand our House. We +are not going to sweat ourselves to win some rotten Gym Cup or House +Fives; we haven't time for that. We are amateurs. We play the hardest +footer and the keenest cricket of all the houses, and that's where we +stop. He wants us to train every minute, go for runs in the afternoon, +do physical exercises before breakfast so as to become strong, +clean-living Englishmen, who love their bodies and have some respect for +their mind." (A roar of laughter. It was as though 'the Bull' were +speaking.) "Well, I don't care a damn myself for my body or mind. All I +know is that the House is going to get the Two Cock somehow, and that +for six weeks we'll train like Hades, and then, when we've got the cup, +we'll have a blind. We aren't pros who train the whole year round; we're +amateurs!" + +And Mansell was perhaps not far wrong. + +"I say, you know," says Hunter, who had a cheerful way of suddenly +flying off at a tangent, "talking of 'the Bull,' have you heard of the +row in his house?" + +Intense enthusiasm. Buller's was supposed to be "above suspicion." + +"Oh, well, old Bull came round the dormitories last night and heard +Peters and Fischer and some other lads talking the most arrant filth. He +gave them all six in pyjamas on the spot, and Fischer is not going to be +allowed to be house captain next year. Rather a jest, you know. Old Bull +thought because his house was always in wonderful training that the +spirit of innocence ruled over the place." + +"Well, he must be an ass then," said Mansell. "Why, look at Richmore, +and Parry; and even old Johnson has little respect for a bourgeois +morality." + +Mansell was rather pleased with the last phrase; he was not quite +certain what it meant. G.K. Chesterton used it somewhere, probably in +his apology for George IV. It sounded rather nice. + +"Well, it's obvious that a blood must be a bit of a rip; and Buller's is +merely an asylum for bloods!" + +This rather perplexed Gordon. He ventured a question rather timidly: +"But is it impossible for a blood to be a decent fellow?" + +"Decent fellow?" cried Jeffries. "Who on earth has said they were +anything else? Johnson's a simply glorious man. Only a bit fast; and +that doesn't matter much." + +In a farewell lecture, Gordon's preparatory school master had given him +to believe that it mattered a good deal, but he was doubtless +old-fashioned. Times were changed; Gordon had ceased to be shocked at +what he heard; he was learning what life was, and how strange and +beautiful and ugly it was. + +As the winter term drew to a close, Gordon grew more and more sure of +himself. He had passed by nearly all the other new boys. Foster, it is +true, had got on well according to his lights, and was on more than +friendly terms with Evans, the school slow bowler. But he was not much +liked by his equals. Rudd was looked on quite rightly as an absolute +buffoon; Collins got on fairly well, but was generally admitted to be a +bit eccentric. Gordon was, without doubt, the pick of the crew. His +position in form was a great help. Mansell's friends thought him a +cheerful, amusing and respectable-looking person, and were quite pleased +to have him about the place. Next term he was going to have a study with +Jeffries. The Chief thought he had got on rather too quick. But he was +usually among the first three in his form, and there was nothing +definite to find fault with, and, after all, his friends were excellent +fellows. There was nothing against them. Jeffries was genially selfish, +always ready for a rag, a keen footballer, and had, like most other +Public School boys, adopted a convenient broadmindedness with regard to +cribbing and other matters. + +"If the master is such an arrant ass as to let you crib, it is his own +lookout; and, after all, we take the sporting chance." + +Lovelace minor was rather a different sort of person. Very excitable, he +despised and deceived most of the masters; among his friends he was +unimpeachably loyal. He loved games, but never took them sufficiently +seriously to please "the Bull." He played for his own pleasure, not "the +Bull's." He was a splendid companion. + +Hunter was rather a nonentity; his chief attraction was that he usually +had the last bit of scandal at his finger-tips; he was safe to be +consulted on any point of school politics. It was his boast that he had +sufficient evidence to expel half the Fifteen and the whole Eleven. + +At this time Gordon found school life inexpressibly joyful. There were +minor troubles, but they were few. The only thing that really worried +him was Corps Parade. This infliction occurred once every week, and for +two hours Gordon passed through hell. He was in a recruits' section +under a man from Rogers' house, who was a typical product of his house. +He was oily, yellow and unpleasant to look upon. He also loathed Gordon. +There was a feud between the men from Rogers' and the School House. + +Rogers was the captain in command of the corps. To Gordon he seemed +exactly like what Cicero must have been, loud, contentious, smashing +down pasteboard castles with a terrific din. He was amazingly arrogant +and conceited. In the pulpit and on the parade ground he was in his +element. The School House had for years been notorious for their +slackness on parade. In drill and musketry competitions they had +invariably come out bottom, and Rogers hated them for it. It was indeed +a great sight to see the School House half company at work. Everyone was +fed to death, and took no pains to hide the fact. Once Rogers had said +to the House colour-sergeant: + +"Phillips, form up your men facing right." + +Phillips looked round at them, thought for a second or two and then +drawled: "Look here, you fellows, shove round there." And the subsequent +sarcastic comment was quite lost on him. He was a good forward, but not +too clever. He was proof against epigram. + +It was truly a noble sight to see Lovelace minor come on parade. Every +week exactly two seconds late, in the dead silence that followed the +sergeant-major's thundered "Parade!" he would dash through the school +gate, puffing and blowing, his drum knocking against his equipment, his +hat crooked, half his buttons undone. He would barge through two +sections, rush to the School House half-company, bang his rifle on the +ground, and say to his companion in a stage whisper: "I wasn't noticed, +was I?" + +But these were only incidents. As a whole everything connected with the +corps was "a hell upon earth." Field days consisted of a long march, a +sublime mix-up, a speech from Rogers, a bad tea, then a long march home. +No one knew what was happening; no one cared. It was a sheer waste of +time. Only Rogers really enjoyed himself. + +Then suddenly it occurred to Clarke that such a state of affairs was a +disgrace to the House. He had just been made a colour-sergeant, and +determined to wake things up. He made a long speech to the House, +pointing out the necessity for National Service, the importance of +militarism, and its effect on citizenship. He finished by a patriotic +outburst, telling them that they were wearing the King's uniform, and +that it must be kept clean, with the brass badges polished. The House +was mildly interested; its attitude was summed up in Turner's remark: + +"The King's uniform will have to go buttonless as far as I am concerned. +Damned if I'll waste twopence to buy a rotten bone button." + +On the next parade, however, Clarke inspected the company. Half the +House had to call him the next morning, dressed properly, at seven +o'clock. That would mean getting up at six-thirty. General +consternation. + +"It's a crying scandal," said Lovelace minor. "If I had not been +reported for slacking at French I'd jolly well go and complain to the +Chief. How can anyone play football without proper sleep?" + +Gordon laughed from the depths of his arm-chair. There were advantages +in being a recruit, even if one was ordered about by a man in Rogers' +who didn't wash. Hunter and Jeffries raged furiously; they swore that +they would not turn up. "Who is Clarke, damn his eyes, to take on the +privileges of a brigadier-general? It's a House tradition that no one +tries at parade." + +Overnight Hunter was very full of rebellion; but seven o'clock saw him +in shining brass, meekly standing before Clarke, who examined them from +his bed with an electric torch. But Jeffries cut; he was ever "agin the +government." He got six. His tunic was clean next week. The House +growled and cursed inwardly, but its appearance on parade was very +different. Clarke was a man. + +There is nothing so self-satisfying as to watch trouble from a safe +distance. Gordon was thoroughly happy. Mansell cursed heavily every +Monday night before the Tuesday parade. Clarke became to the House what +Cromwell was to Ireland; even the feeble Davenham thought it was a bit +thick. But Gordon was a recruit, and such things did not worry him. Life +was just then amazingly exciting. He was developing into quite a useful +forward. Mansell said he was certain for a place in the House Thirds +side. He was high up in form, and there was a good chance of his getting +a prize, but what perhaps counted more than anything else was the fact +that he was getting a position in the House. Prefects had ceased to ask +him what his name was. He was no longer a nonentity; he was looked on as +a coming man. + +As the term wore on, the thought of exams. brought to Gordon only a +feeling of excitement. There was little likelihood of disaster; there +was the certainty of a good struggle for the first place between himself +and one Walford, a dull though industrious outhouse individual. But to +some of his friends exams. seemed as the day of reckoning. Lovelace +minor was frankly at his wits' end. He had slacked most abominably the +whole term. He had prepared none of his books, and his next-door +neighbour had supplied him with all necessary information. Now the news +was about that IV. B was going to sit with the Sixth Form for exams. +Terror reigned. There could be no cribbing under the Chief's nose. +Jeffries was in the same plight; but he was a philosopher. "If I get +bottled in every paper," he said, "it will only mean about two hours' +work on each subject. But if I am going to know enough to avoid being +bottled, it will mean a good eight hours' work at each subject: six +hours wasted on each. In these times of bustle it can't be done. +Caruthers, pass me that red-backed novel on the second shelf!" + +Lovelace, however, was perturbed, and set out to prepare himself for the +ordeal. But his was a temperament that forbade application on any +subject other than horse racing. Every night he paced up and down the +study passages getting hints first from one person then another, and +always staying for a talk. By the end of preparation the result was +always the same--nothing done; and he and Jeffries both spent the last +Saturday in exactly the same way. + +But with Mansell it was different. If he got a promotion his pater had +promised him a motor bike. At first sight this seemed impossible. Hunter +in fact laid a hundred to one against his chances. But for once Mansell +really tried at something besides games. For two halls he worked solidly +from seven till ten, preparing small slips of paper that contained all +the notes he could find in Gordon's notebook, and that could fit +conveniently into the back of a watch. Everything was in his favour. +Claremont was taking exams. The first paper was Old Testament history. +Mansell looked at his watch repeatedly; but suddenly he came to an +unexpected question. He endeavoured to extract an answer from the man on +his right. + +Claremont spotted him. + +"Well, Mansell, if I ask you if you are cribbing, I know you will deny +it, and I don't want you to tell me a lie; but I must beg of you not to +talk quite so loudly." + +Any ordinary master would have torn up the boy's paper. But Claremont +was getting old. + +At any rate for the rest of the exams. Mansell relied entirely on his +notes. The Greek translation paper, however, was more than he could do. +Promotion did not count on a set subject, but only on English and Latin; +so Greek had gone by the board. After writing the most amazing nonsense +for two hours, Mansell decided that it was wiser not to enter into +competition at all with those low tricksters who had prepared their +work. He showed up no papers at all. + +Next day Claremont corrected the papers. + +"Well, Mansell, I can't find your paper anywhere." + +"I showed it up, sir." + +"Well, I am sure I don't know where it is. You had better go and find Mr +Douglas, and ask him if he knows anything about it." + +Mr Douglas was the mathematical master, to whom all marks were sent. He +added them up, and made out the orders. + +After an unnecessarily long interval Mansell returned. + +"I am sorry, sir; Mr Douglas has not seen them." + +"Well, I suppose it must be all my fault. I shall have to give you an +average on your papers, which, strange to say, have been, for you, +remarkably good." + +Mansell was averaged sixth for the paper. A real good bluff gives more +pleasure than all the honest exercises of one's life put together. + +There was laughter in No. 16 Study that evening. A few weeks ago Gordon +would have been horrified at such a thing; but now it seemed a splendid +jest. He would not have cribbed himself. He preferred to beat a man with +his own brains, though Mansell would have protested that it was a +greater effort to pit one's brains against a master long trained in +spotting tricks than against some dull-headed scholar. The Public School +system, at any rate, teaches its sons the art of framing very ingenious +theories with which to defend their faults; a negative virtue, perhaps, +but none the less an achievement. + +The last days of term were now drawing in. The House supper was only a +few days off and the holidays very close. Everyone was glad on the whole +to have finished the Christmas term, which is invariably the worst of +the three. And this year it had not been improved by Clarke's military +activities and the feeling of unrest that overhung the doings of the +Fifteen, because of Lovelace major's never-ending broils with "the +Bull." Two strong men both wanted their own way. On the whole, honours +were even, though, if anything, slightly in Lovelace's favour, since he +had filled up the scrum with a School House forward and a member of +Benson's, a small and rather insignificant House, instead of giving the +colours to men in Buller's. + +But next term there would be fewer rows. There would be house matches, +and each house captain would run things in his own house as he wished. +The school captain did little except post up which grounds each house +was to occupy. The School House always longed for the Easter term. It +was their chance of showing the rest of the school what they were made +of. As they were slightly bigger than any other house, they claimed the +honour of playing the three best of the outhouses in the great Three +Cock House Match for the Senior Challenge Cup. This year, with Lovelace +and Meredith, a School House victory was looked on as almost certain. +Besides this big event there were the Two Cock and Thirds House Match. +In the "Thirds" the School House under sixteen house side played against +the two best of the outhouses under sixteen sides, for the Thirds +Challenge Cup. And in the Two Cock, the second House Fifteen--that is, +the House Fifteen minus those with first and second Fifteen +colours--played the two best of the outhouse second Fifteens for the +Junior Challenge Cup. The results of these last two matches were very +much on the knees of the gods. The House stood a fair chance, but the +general opinion was that Buller's would win the Thirds; and Christy's, a +house that was full of average players who were too slack to get their +seconds, would pull off the Two Cock. At any rate, there would be no +lack of excitement. There was always far more keenness shown about house +matches than school matches, a fact which worried Buller immensely. He +thought everything should be secondary to the interests of Fernhurst. + +On the last Saturday of the term there was the House Supper. It was a +noble affair. The bloods wore evening dress; even the untidiest junior +oiled his hair and put on a clean collar. At the Sixth Form table sat +the Chief, some guests, Lovelace, Clarke, and a certain Ferguson, who +edited _The Fernhurst School Magazine_, and was to propose the health of +the old boys, of whom about twenty had come down, several having helped +to defeat the school by twenty points to sixteen in the afternoon. Never +had so much food been seen before. Turner had boasted that he always +went into training a week before the event, so as to enjoy it more. But +the real triumph was the hot punch. As soon as dessert had begun the old +boys trooped out, and brought in a huge steaming bowl of punch, from +which they filled all the glasses. Gordon did not like it much. It +seemed very hot and strong. But everyone else seemed to. Jeffries got a +little excited. + +Then speeches followed. The Chief proposed the fortune of the House, +Clarke answered him. There was the usual applause and clapping. But the +real event was Lovelace's speech. It had been a year of great success. +The Three Cock had been lost by only a very small margin. The Two Cock +had been won in a walk-over, and the Thirds by two points. The Senior +Cricket and the Sports Cup had also been won. It was very nearly a +record year. Lovelace was received with terrific applause; he +congratulated the House on its performance; he mentioned individual +names; each was the signal for a roar of cheering; and then, at the end, +he said: + +"And now I have a message to the House from the old boys. Let us have +the Three Cock Cup back again on the School House sideboard. It is the +place where it should be, and that's the place where we are going to put +it! Gentlemen, The Three Cock!" + +Amid a deafening noise the toast was drunk, and a voice from the back +yelled out: "Three cheers for Lovelace!" His health, too, was drunk, and +they sang _For he's a Jolly Good Fellow_. + +After this all else seemed tame. Ferguson made a speech that was meant +to be very funny, but rather missed fire. He had read _Dorian Gray_ the +whole of the evening before, underlining appropriate aphorisms. But to +the average boy Oscar Wilde is (rather luckily perhaps) a little too +advanced. The evening finished with _Auld Lang Syne_. Everyone stood on +the table and roared himself hoarse. The score in damage was twenty +plates broken beyond repair, sixteen punch glasses in fragments, +fourteen cracked plates, two broken gas mantles. When the revellers had +departed the hall looked rather gloomy, as probably Nero's did when his +guests fled after the murder of Britannicus. + +Next morning there was early service for communicants. But the School +House was entirely pagan. Hardly a man went. On Sunday there was a great +feed in Study 16. Somehow or other ten people got packed into as many +square feet of room. Gordon was there; and Mansell, of course; Collins +came to act as general clown; Fitzroy, a small friend of Jeffries, sat +in a far corner looking rather uncomfortable. Spence, Carey and Tiddy +made up the number; the last were quite the ordinary Public School type, +their conversation ran entirely on games, scandal and the work they had +not done. Lovelace was mildly bored. + +"It's pretty fair rot, you know. Here have I been fair sweating away at +the exams, every minute of my time, and Jeffries, who has not done a +stroke, is above me." + +Jeffries was bottom but one. + +"Oh, rotten luck," said Mansell. "You should do like me. Old fool +Claremont said I had done damned well!" + +"He hardly put it that way," came from Gordon; "but I believe Mansell +has managed more or less to deceive the examiners." + +"Oh, I say, that's a bit thick, you know," said Mansell. "Oh, damn, who +is that at the door?" + +There was a feeble knock. "Come in!" shouted at least six voices +simultaneously. + +Davenham came in looking rather frightened. + +"I'm sorry.... Is Caruthers in here?" + +"Yes, young fellow, he is." + +"Oh, Caruthers, Meredith wants you!" + +"Damn him," said Gordon. "What a nuisance these prefects are." + +Very unwillingly he got up and strolled upstairs. + +He was away rather a long time. After twenty minutes' absence he +returned rather moodily. + +"Hullo, at last; you've been the hell of a long time," said Hunter. +"What did he want?" + +"Oh, nothing; only something about my boxing subscription." + +"Well, he took long enough about it, I must say. Was that all?" + +"Of course. Cake, please, Fitzroy!" + +The subject was dropped. + +But just before chapel Jeffries ran into Gordon in the cloister. + +"Look here, Caruthers, what did Meredith really want you for? I swear I +won't tell anyone." + +"Oh, well, I don't mind you knowing.... You know what Meredith is, +well--I mean--oh, you know, the usual stuff. He wanted me to meet him +out for a walk to-morrow. I told him in polite language to go to the +'devil.'" + +"Good Lord, did you really? But why? If Meredith gets fed up with you he +could give you the hell of a time." + +"Oh, I know he could, but he wouldn't over a thing like that. Damn it +all, the man is a gentleman." + +"Of course he is, but all the same he is a blood, and it pays to keep on +good terms with them." + +"Oh, I don't know; it's risky--and well, I think the whole idea is +damned silly nonsense." + +Jeffries looked at him rather curiously. + +"Yes," he said, "I suppose that is how the small boy always looks at +it." + +It was only for an hour or so, however, that Gordon let this affair +worry him. The holidays were only forty-eight hours off and he was +longing to hear the results of the exams., and to know whether he had a +prize. + +Prize-giving was always held at five o'clock on the last Monday. And the +afternoon dragged by very slowly. Mansell assumed a cheerful +indifference. He thought his motor bike fairly certain. Rumour had it +there were going to be at least twelve promotions into the Lower Fifth. +Jeffries and Lovelace had also nothing to worry about; there was little +doubt as to their positions. Hunter specialised in chemistry, and had +done no examination papers. But for Gordon the suspense was intolerable. +He could find nothing to do; he climbed up the Abbey tower, and wrote +his name on the big hand of the clock; he roped up his playbox, tipped +the school porter; and still there was an hour and a half to put in. +Disconsolately he wandered down town. He strolled into Gisson's, the +school book-seller's: it contained nothing but the Home University +Library series and numerous Everymans. It was just like his first day +over again. But at last five o'clock came, and he sat with his four +friends at the back of the big schoolroom. He grew more and more tired +of hearing the lists of the Second and Third Forms read out. What +interest did he take in the doings of Pappenheim and Guttridge tertius? +IV. A was reached at length. The list was read from the bottom. + +Not placed--Hunter. + +Slowly the names were read out; the single figures were now reached: + +Mansell--term's work, eighteen. Exams., one. Combined order, four. + +This difference of position caused a titter to run round among those of +the School House who knew the cause of it. The third name and then the +second was reached: + +Caruthers--Term's work, one. Exams., three. Combined order, one. + +Term's Prize--Caruthers. Exams.--Mansell. + +The latter's performance was the signal for an uproarious outburst of +applause, in which laughter played a large part. There was still more +merriment when it was discovered that he had got as a prize _Sartor +Resartus_. As he crudely put it: "What the bloody hell does it mean?" +Gordon got the _Indian Mutiny_, by Malleson. Both books now repose, as +do most prizes, in the owners' book-cases, unread. + +"Congrats, Mansell, old fellow," yelled Lovelace minor, as the school +poured out at the end of the prize-giving. "Glorious! What a School +House triumph." + +"Yes, you know," said Mansell. "But it doesn't seem quite fair, and I am +damned if I want this book. It looks the most utter rot. I say, shall I +give it to that little kid in Buller's, I forget his name, who was +second? He looks a bit upset. Shall I, I say?" + +"Don't be a silly fool, Mansell," said Lovelace major, who happened to +overhear the conversation. "You've just got the only prize you're ever +likely to get for work; stick on to it." + +The rest of the day was pure, unalloyed joy to Gordon. He rushed off +after tea to wire the news home; then he sat in the gallery and listened +to the concert. He had expected to enjoy it rather; but the seats were +uncomfortable, the music too classical, and he soon stopped paying any +attention to the choir, and began a long argument with Collins as to the +composition of the Two Cock scrum. + +The next morning as the train steamed out of Fernhurst, and he lay back +in the carriage smoking a cigarette, outwardly with the air of a +connoisseur, inwardly with the timid nervousness of a novice, he +reflected that, in spite of the Rev. Rogers, school was a pretty decent +sort of place. + + + + +CHAPTER IV: NEW FACES + + +"I say, it _is_ true; Lovelace major has left." + +"Good Lord, no; is it?" + +"He's not on the House list?" + +"I heard he'd passed into the army at last." + +"I wonder who he was sitting next." + +"And we shall have that silly ass Armour captain of the House." + +"Ye gods!" + +A small crowd had gathered in front of the studies on the first night of +the Easter term. Consternation reigned. The almost impossible had +happened. Lovelace major had passed into Sandhurst at his fifth attempt, +and Armour would take his place as house captain. It was a disaster. +Armour was doubtless a most worthy fellow, a thoroughly honest, +hard-working forward. But he had no personality. When he passed by, fags +did not suddenly stop talking, as they did when Clarke or Meredith +rolled past them. The term before, he had not even been a house prefect. +The Three Cock, which had once seemed such a certainty, now became a +forlorn hope. + +"It's rotten," said Lovelace minor that night in the dormitory. "My +brother didn't think he had the very ghost of a chance of passing. He'd +mucked it up four times running, only the silly ass had done both the +unseens with "the Bull" the week before, and he was too damned slack to +alter them, and write them down wrong. He always was an ass, my +brother." + +Everyone was sorry. Even "the Bull" regarded him with a sort of +indulgent sentimentality. He never saw very much good in a School House +captain as long as he was there; but as soon as he left, all his faults +were forgotten and virtues that he had never possessed were flung at him +in profusion. The result was that "the Bull" said to the School House +captain of each generation: "I have had more trouble with you than any +Fernhurst boy I have ever met. You can't see beyond the length of your +own dining-hall. See big. See the importance of Fernhurst, and the +insignificance of yourself." + +But no one was more sorry than Armour. He did not want responsibility; +he had not sought for it. He wished to have fought in the School House +battles as a private, not as an officer. He loved the House, and longed +for its success, and trembled to think that he might ruin its chances by +a weak and vacillating captaincy. Moreover, he felt that he had no one +to back him up. Meredith, Robey and Simonds, the other members of the +First Fifteen in the House, were all grousing and wondering how large a +score the outhouses would run up in the Three Cock. No one placed any +confidence in his abilities. He was entirely alone. + +The next day was pouring wet; the ground was under water. Most house +captains would have sent their houses for a run. But Armour wanted to +make his start as early as possible. He couldn't bear to delay. That +afternoon the probable Thirds side played against the rest of the House, +with the exception of the Second colours. Armour had never felt so +nervous before; it was actually the first time he had refereed on a +game. Jeffries was captain of the Thirds, and kicked off. It was, of +course, a scrappy game. On such a day good football was impossible. The +outsides hardly touched the ball once. But the forwards, covered in mud +from head to foot, had their full share of work. Jeffries was +ubiquitous; he led the "grovel" (as the scrum was called at Fernhurst), +and kept it together. Gordon had very little chance of distinguishing +himself; but he did one or two dribbles, and managed to collar Mansell +the only time he looked like getting away. Lovelace minor, who played +fly-half, had nothing to do except stop forward rushes, was kicked all +over his body, got very cold and never had a chance once. He was +utterly miserable the whole hour. All this was in favour of Armour. He +knew nothing about three-quarter work, but he had played forward ever +since he had gone to the Fernhurst preparatory at ten years of age, and +could always spot the worker and the slacker, which Lovelace major never +could. On the whole, taking a house game was not so terrifying after +all; by half-time he had forgotten his nervousness in his excitement at +watching how his side was going to shape. + +"You know, I don't think Armour so rotten as people said he would be," +said Gordon, as they came up after the game. "I thought he was all +right." + +"Oh yes, he's not so bad; but he does not seem much when you shove him +next to Lovelace major." + +"Well, you know," said Jeffries, "he does know something about forward +play, which I am damned if Lovelace did." + +"Perhaps so; but all the same Lovelace was the man to win matches." +Mansell was an outside, and loved dash and brilliance, but the forwards +were not sorry to have someone in command who understood them. Armour +had begun well. + + * * * * * + +There are still people who will maintain that the ideal schoolboy in +school hours thinks only about Vergil and Sophocles, and in the field +concentrates entirely on drop kicks and yorkers. But that boy does not +exist; and in the Easter term it is impossible to think of anything but +house matches. Those who were in the power of some form martinet had a +terrible time this term. But Gordon and Mansell found themselves safely +at rest in Claremont's form and Greek set, and made up their minds just +to stay there and do only enough work to avoid being bottled. + +For the Lower Fifth was certainly the refuge of many weather-beaten +mariners. Pat Johnstone had laboriously worked up from the bottom form, +led on only by the hope that one day he would reach V. B, and there +repose at the back of the room, living his last terms in peace. Ruddock +had once set out with high hopes of reaching the Sixth; his first term +he had won a Divinity prize in the Shell. But under Claremont he had +discovered the truth, learnt long ago in the land of Lotus Eaters, "that +slumber is more sweet than toil!" The back benches of that room were +strewn with shattered hopes. Small intelligent scholars came up and +passed by on their way to Balliol Scholarships; but the faces at the +back of the room remained terribly somnolent and happy. A certain +Banbury had been there for three years and had earned the nickname of +"old Father Time," and Mansell, too, swore he would enrol himself with +the Lost Legion, while even Gordon said that nothing would shift him +from there for at least a year. + +Claremont had many strange ideas, the most striking of which was the +belief that boys felt a passionate love for poetry. The average boy has +probably read all the poetry he will ever read terms before he ever +reaches the Fifth Form. By the time he is in Shell he has learnt to +appreciate Kipling, the more choice bits of _Don Juan_ and a few +plain-spoken passages in Shakespeare. If English Literature were taught +differently, if he were led by stages from Macaulay to Scott, from Byron +to Rossetti, he might perhaps appreciate the splendid heritage of song, +but as it is, swung straight from _If_ to the _Ode to the Nightingale_ +he finds the "shy beauty" of Keats most unutterable nonsense. Claremont, +however, thought otherwise, and ran his form accordingly. In repetition +this was especially noticeable. Kennedy, a small boy with glasses, who +was always word-perfect, would nervously mumble through Henry V's speech +(they always learnt Shakespeare) in an accurate but totally uninspired +way. Mansell would stand at the back of the form and blunder out blank +verse, much of which was his own, and little of which was Shakespeare, +but which certainly sounded most impressive. + +"Well, Kennedy," Claremont would say, "you certainly know your words +very well, but I can't bear the way you say them. Five out of twenty. +Mansell, you evidently have made little attempt to learn your repetition +at all, but I love your fervour. One so rarely finds anyone really +affected by the passion of poetry. Fifteen out of twenty." + +During his two years in the Lower Fifth Mansell never once spent more +than five minutes learning his "rep," yet on no occasion did he get less +than twelve out of twenty. A bare outline was required, a loud voice +supplied the rest. + +In this form it was that Gordon first began to crib. He did not do it +to get marks. He merely wished to avoid being "bottled." Some +headmasters, and the writers to _The Boy's Own Paper_, draw lurid +pictures of the bully who by cribbing steals the prize from the poor +innocent who looks up every word in a big Liddell and Scott; but such +people don't exist. No one ever cribbed in order to get a prize: they +crib from mere slackness. Mansell's exam. prize in IV. A is about the +only instance of a prize won by cribbing. Besides, cribbing is an art. + +Ruddock, for instance, when he used to go on to translate, was +accustomed to take up his Vergil in one hand and his Bohn in the other. + +"What is that other book, Ruddock?" Claremont asked once. + +"Some notes, sir," was the perfectly truthful answer. + +Ruddock was, moreover, an altruist; he always worked for the good of his +fellow-men. One day, when Mansell was bungling most abominably with his +Euripides, he flung his Bohn along the desk, Mansell picked it up, +propped it in front of him and read it off. Claremont never noticed. +This was the start of a great system of combination. Everyone at the +beginning of the term paid twopence to the general account with which +Ruddock bought some _Short Steps to Accurate Translations_. As each +person went on to translate, the book was passed to him and he read +straight out of it. The translating was, in consequence, always of a +remarkably high standard. Claremont never understood why examinations +always proved the signal for a general collapse. History, however, was a +subject that had long been a worry to the form. Dates are irrevocable +facts and cannot be altered, they must be learnt. At one time, when +Claremont said, "Shut your book. I will ask a few questions," everyone +shut their Latin grammars loudly and kept their history books open; but +this was rather too obvious a ruse; Claremont began to spot it. +Something had to be done. It would be an insult to expect any member of +the form to prepare a lesson. It was Gordon who finally devised a plan. + +"Please, sir," he said one day, "don't you think we should find history +much more interesting if we could bring in maps." + +"Well, perhaps it would," said Claremont sleepily. "I am sure the form +is very much indebted to you for your kind thought. Anyone who wants to, +may bring in a map." + +Next day everyone had found a huge atlas which he propped up on the +desk; and which completely hid everything except the student's actual +head. There was now no fear of an open book being spotted, it was so +very simple to shut it when Claremont began to walk about, and besides +... it made the lesson so much more interesting. + +And so Gordon and Mansell were able to discuss football the whole of +evening hall, never do a stroke of work, and yet get quite a respectable +half-term report. + +The interest in the Thirds was now becoming intense. As was expected, +Buller's easily beat all the outhouses, with Claremont's house as +runners-up. Claremont's house had once been the great athletic house, +but when a house master takes but little interest in a house's +performances, that house is apt to get stale, and soon Claremont's +became a name for mediocrity. As a house it was like V. B, a happy land +where no one worried about anything, and it was quite safe to smoke in +the studies on a Sunday afternoon. A side made up of two houses that had +never played together before was bound to lack the combination of a side +that had played together for several weeks. But the School House was +always playing against superior weight and strength, and more than once +had found itself unable to sustain their efforts, and after leading up +to half-time went clean to pieces in the last ten minutes. It is pretty +hard to hold a "grovel" several stones heavier for over an hour, and +this year even Armour was a little doubtful about the lightness of his +side. To Gordon and Jeffries, of course, defeat seemed impossible. Last +year Jeffries had played in a winning side and Gordon had yet to see the +House lose a match. But Mansell smiled sadly; he had played in a good +many losing sides. Gordon dreamed football night and day. He saw himself +securing wonderful last-minute tries, and bringing off amazing collars +when all seemed lost. But all his hopes were doomed to disappointment. +Two days before the game he slipped coming downstairs, fell with his +wrist under him, and with his arm in splints and sling had to watch from +the touch-line an outhouse victory of ten points to nothing. The usual +thing happened--the House was just not strong enough. Jeffries played a +great game, and fought an uphill fight splendidly; Lovelace only missed +a drop goal by inches; Fletcher, an undisciplined forward, did great +damage till warned by the referee. But weight told, and during the whole +of the last half the House were penned in their twenty-five, while the +school got over twice. Very miserably the House sat down to tea that +evening. It added insult to injury when an impertinent fag from Buller's +walked in in the middle and demanded the cup. Armour managed to keep his +temper, but that fag did not forget for weeks the booting Gordon gave +him the next day. Still it was a poor revenge for a lost cup. + +Whatever little chance there had ever been of Gordon getting a place in +the Two Cock was, of course, quite destroyed by his accident. The doctor +said he ought not to play again for at least three weeks. And so it was +that, as far as football was concerned, Gordon found himself rather out +of it. All his friends were in the thick of everything. Mansell was +captain of the Two Cock, Jeffries was leading the scrum, Hunter was +being tried as scrum half, and Lovelace was in training as a reserve. He +alone was doing nothing. For a few days the afternoons seemed unbearably +long. But Gordon had a remarkable gift for adapting himself to +circumstances. And he had very little difficulty in striking up new +acquaintances. So far, he had had very little to do with those outside +his actual set; with the majority of the House he was hardly on speaking +terms, and of Archie Fletcher he knew little except the name. + +Archie Fletcher was a great person; "great" in fact was the only +adjective that really fitted him. He had only two real objects in life, +one was to get his House cap, the other was to enjoy himself. And his +love of pleasure usually took the form of ragging masters. Ragging with +him did not consist in mere spasmodic episodes of bravado which usually +ended in a beating. He had reduced it to a science. It was to him the +supreme art. At present he was suffering from a kick on the knee which +he had received in the Thirds, and he and Gordon found themselves +constantly thrown together. + +Archie (no one ever called him anything else), was a splendid companion. +He had an enormous repertoire of anecdotes which he was never tired of +telling, and every one finished in exactly the same way: "Believe me, +Caruthers, some rag." Oh, a great man, forsooth, was Archie! He had +cynically examined every master with whom he had anything to do, picked +him to pieces, found out his faults, and then played on his weaknesses. +Sometimes, however, he went a little too far. On one occasion he was +doing chemistry with a certain Jenks, a very fiery little man, who +really believed in the educational value of "stinks." So did Archie; it +gave him scope to exercise his genius for playing the fool. But this day +he overstepped the bounds. In the distance, he saw Blake, his pet +aversion, carefully working out an experiment. A piece of glass tubing +was at hand; Jenks was not looking; Archie fixed the tube to the +waterspout, turned the tap; a cascade of H_{2}O rose in the air and fell +on Blake's apparatus; there was a crash of falling glass. Jenks spun +round. + +"Oh, is that you, Fletcher, you stupid fellow? Come over here. I shall +have to beat you. Now then, where's my cane gone! Oh, then I shall have +to use some rubber tubing--stoop down, stoop down!" + +Laboriously Archie bent down; Jenks bent a piece of india-rubber tubing +double--its length was hardly a foot--and gave Archie a feeble blow. It +could not possibly have hurt him. But the victim leapt in the air, +clutching the seat of his trousers. + +"Oh!" he screamed. "Oh, sir, oh, sir! You have hurt me, sir. You are so +strong, sir." + +"Oh, then you are coward, too, are you?" said the delighted Jenks. +"Stoop down again; stoop down!" + +The form rocked with laughter. + +Archie received four strokes in all, and after each he went through the +same performance. Jenks thought himself a second Hercules; he repeated +the story in the common room. Archie repeated it also, in the studies: +"Believe me, you fellows, some rag!" + +A great man, and after Gordon's own heart! + +On a bleak, rainy afternoon Gordon and Fletcher watched the overwhelming +defeat of the House in the Two Cock. The score was over thirty points; +Mansell played only moderately; Jeffries was off his game. A gloom +settled down over the House, everyone became peevish and discontented. +It was said that the great days of House footer were over. To lose both +the Thirds and the Two Cock was a disgrace. No one expected anything but +a rout in the Three Cock. There were bets in the day-room as to whether +the score would be under fifty. Interest centred entirely on who would +get their House caps. With Lovelace away, the three-quarter line would +be innocuous: the forwards always had been weak. The House were bad +losers, they had grown accustomed to victories. + + + + +CHAPTER V: EMERGING + + +"Jeffries was pretty hot stuff to-day, wasn't he?" + +"Good Lord! yes. If he plays half as well as that in the Three Cock +he'll get his House cap." + +It was just after tea. Mansell was lying back in an easy-chair with his +feet on the table; he was dead tired after a strenuous game. Gordon was +sitting on the table. Hunter reclined in the window seat. + +"Where is he, by the way?" said Gordon. "I didn't see him in to tea." + +"Oh, I believe someone asked him out. Isn't he rather a pal of the +Jacobs in Cheap Street?" + +"I heard that there was a bit of a row on," said Hunter. "I couldn't +quite make out what about.... Oh, by Jove, that's him." + +Jeffries' voice was heard down the passage: "Mansell." + +A voice answered him: "Here, No. 34." + +Jeffries was heard running upstairs; he entered looking very dejected. + +"Hullo! Cheer up!" shouted Mansell. "I shouldn't have thought you could +have run like that after this afternoon's game. Where've you been?" + +"I say ... I'm in the deuce of a row." + +There was a shriek of laughter. Jeffries was always in a row; and he +always exaggerated its importance. + +"Don't laugh. It's no damned joke. I've got bunked." + +Silence suddenly fell on the group. + +"But ... what the hell have you been doing?" + +"Chief's found out all about me and Fitzroy, and I've got to go!" + +"But I never thought there was really anything in that," said Gordon. "I +thought----" + +"Oh, well, there was. I know I'm an awful swine and all that----Oh, it's +pretty damnable; and the Three Cock, too! I believe I should have got my +House cap!... I wasn't so dusty to-day--and I heard Armour say, as he +came off the field----Damn, what the bloody hell does it matter what +Armour said? It's over now. I just got across for a minute to see you +men.... I said I wanted a book.... Lord, I can't believe it...." + +When he stopped speaking there was again a dead silence. None of the +three had been brought face to face with such a tragedy before. Never, +Gordon thought, had the Greek idea of Nemesis seemed so strong. + +Hunter broke the silence. + +"What are you going to do now?" + +"I don't know. I shall go home, and then, I suppose, I shall have to go +to France or Germany, or perhaps some crammer. I don't know or care ... +it's bound to be pretty rotten...." + +He half smiled. + +"My God, and it's damned unfair," Mansell said suddenly. "There are +jolly few of us here any better than you, and look at the bloods, every +one of them as fast as the devil, and you have to go just because----Oh, +it's damned unfair." + +Then Jeffries' wild anger, the anger that had made him so brilliant an +athlete, burst out: "Unfair? Yes, that's the right word; it is unfair. +Who made me what I am but Fernhurst? Two years ago I came here as +innocent as Caruthers there; never knew anything. Fernhurst taught me +everything; Fernhurst made me worship games, and think that they alone +mattered, and everything else could go to the deuce. I heard men say +about bloods whose lives were an open scandal, 'Oh, it's all right, +they can play football.' I thought it was all right too. Fernhurst made +me think it was. And now Fernhurst, that has made me what I am, turns +round and says, 'You are not fit to be a member of this great school!' +and I have to go. Oh, it's fair, isn't it?" + +He dropped exhausted into a chair. After a pause he went on: + +"Oh, well, it's no use grousing. I suppose if one hits length balls on +the middle stump over square leg's head one must run the risk of being +bowled; and I didn't believe in sticking in and doing nothing. 'Get on +or get out,' and, well, I've got out." He laughed rather hysterically. + +Again silence. + +Slowly Jeffries got up. + +"Well, good-bye, you men." He shook hands. As he opened the door he +paused for a second, laughed to himself: "Oh, it's funny, bloody funny," +he murmured. "Not fit for Fernhurst.... Bloody funny." He laughed again, +bitterly. The door closed slowly. + +Jeffries' footsteps could be heard on the stairs. They grew fainter; the +door leading to the Chief's side of the House slammed. Down the study +passage a gramophone struck up _Florrie was a Flapper_. + +In Study 34 there was an awful stillness. + +That evening on the way down to supper Gordon overheard Armour say to +Meredith: + +"What a fool that man Jeffries is, getting bunked, and mucking up the +grovel. Damned ass, the man is." + +Meredith agreed. + +Gordon didn't care very much just now about the result of a House match. +He had lost a friend. Armour had lost a cog in a machine. + + * * * * * + +As was expected, the Three Cock proved a terribly one-sided game. The +House played pluckily, and for the first half kept the score down to +eight points; but during the last twenty minutes it was quite impossible +to keep out the strong outhouse combination. The side became +demoralised, and went absolutely to pieces. Armour did not give a single +House cap. + +After the Three Cock there was a period of four weeks during which the +best athletes trained for the sports, while the rest of the school +played hockey. It was generally considered a sort of holiday after the +stress of house matches. Usually it served its purpose well, but for the +welfare of the House this year it was utterly disastrous. The whole +house was in a highly strung, discontented state; it had nothing to work +for; it had only failures to look back upon. The result was a general +opposition to authority. For a week or so there was a continuous row +going on in the studies. Window-frames were broken; chairs were smashed; +nearly every day one or other member of the House was hauled before the +Chief, for trouble of some sort. But things did not reach a real head +till one night in hall, just before Palm Sunday. There was a lecture for +the Sixth Form; Armour was taking hall; and the only prefect in the +studies was Sandham, who had a headache and had got leave off the +lecture. It did not take long for the good news to spread round the +studies that only "the Cockroach" was about. + +The first sign of trouble was a continual sound of opening doors. Archie +was rushing round, stirring up strife; then there came a sound of many +voices from the entrance of the studies, where were the fire hose and +the gas meter. Suddenly the gas was turned out throughout the whole +building, and pandemonium broke out. + +It would be impossible to describe the tumult made by a whole house that +was inspired by only one idea: the desire to make a noise. The voice of +Sandham rose in a high-pitched wail over and again above the uproar; but +it was pitch dark, he could see none of the offenders. Then all at once +there was peace again, the lights went up, and everyone was quietly +working in his study. It had been admirably worked out. Archie was +"some" organiser. + +For the time being the matter ended; but in a day or two rumours of the +rebellion had reached Clarke. Strong steps had to be taken; and Clarke +was not the man to shirk his duty. + +That evening after prayers he got up and addressed the House. + +"I have been told that two nights ago, when I was absent, there was a +most unseemly uproar in the studies. I am not going into details; you +all know quite well what I mean. I want anyone who assisted in the +disturbance to stand up." + +There was not a move. The idea that the Public School boy's code of +honour forces him to own up at once is entirely erroneous. Boys only own +up when they are bound to be found out; they are not quixotic. + +"Well, then, as no one has spoken, I shall have to take forcible +measures. Everyone above IV. A (for the Lower School did their +preparation in the day-room) will do me a hundred lines every day till +the end of the term. Thank you." + +That night there was loud cursing. Clarke had hardly a supporter, the +other prefects, with the exception of Ferguson, who did not count for +much in the way of things, agreed with Meredith, who said: + +"If the Cockroach can't keep order, how can Clarke expect there should +be absolute quiet? It's the Chief's fault for making such prefects. +Damned silly, I call it." + +The term did not end without a further row. There had been from time +immemorial a system by which corps clothes were common property. +Everyone flung them in the middle of the room on Tuesday after parade; +the matron sorted them out after a fashion; but most people on the next +Tuesday afternoon found themselves with two tunics and no trousers, or +two hats and only one puttee. But no one cared. The person who had two +tunics flung one in the middle of the floor, and then went in search of +some spare trousers. Everyone was clothed somehow in the end. There was +always enough clothes to go round. There was bound to be at least ten +people who had got leave off. It was a convenient socialism. + +But one day FitzMorris turned up on parade in a pair of footer shorts, a +straw hat, and a First Eleven blazer. He was a bit of a nut, and finding +his clothes gone, went on strangely garbed, merely out of curiosity to +see what would happen. A good deal did happen. + +As soon as the corps was dismissed there was a clothes inspection. And +the garments of FitzMorris were found distributed on various bodies. +Clarke again addressed the House. Anyone in future discovered wearing +anyone else's clothes would be severely dealt with. But the House was +not to be outdone. Every single name was erased from every single piece +of clothing: identification was impossible. FitzMorris turned up at the +next parade with one puttee missing, and a tunic that could not meet +across his chest. There was another inspection, but this time it +revealed nothing. Everyone swore that he was wearing his own clothes; +there was nothing to prove that he was not. For the time Clarke was +discomfited. + +FitzMorris set out on his Easter holidays contented with himself and the +world, in the firm belief that he had thoroughly squashed that blighter +Clarke. The head of the House returned to his lonely home on the moors, +very thoughtful--the next term would be his last. + +On the first Sunday of the summer term the Chief preached a sermon the +effect of which Gordon never forgot. He was speaking on the subject of +memory and remorse. "It may be in a few months," he said, "it may be not +for three or four years; but at any rate before very long, you will each +one of you have to stand on the threshold of life, and looking back you +will have to decide whether you have made the best of your Fernhurst +days. For a few moments I ask you to imagine that it is your last day at +school. How will it feel if you have to look back and think only of +shattered hopes, of bright unfulfilled promises? Your last day is bound +to be one of infinite pathos. But to the pathos of human sorrow there is +no need to add the pathos of failure. Oh, I know you are many of you +saying to yourselves: 'There is heaps of time. We'll enjoy ourselves +while we have the chance. It is not for so very long!' No, you are right +there: it is not for so very long; it is only a few hours before you +will have to weigh in the balance the good and the bad you have done +during your Fernhurst days. For some of you it will be in a few weeks; +but for the youngest of you it cannot be more than a very few years. Let +me beg each of you ..." The sermon followed on traditional lines. + +Almost subconsciously Gordon rose with the others to sing: _Lord, behold +us with Thy Blessing_.... What would it feel like to him if this were +his last Sunday, and he had to own that his school career were a +failure? He sat quite quiet in his study thinking for a long time +afterwards. He had a study alone this term. + +In the big study that it has ever been the privilege of the head of the +House to own, Clarke also sat very silent. He was nerving himself for a +great struggle. + + * * * * * + +To the average individual the summer term is anything but the heaven it +is usually imagined to be. The footer man hates it; the fag has to field +all day on a house game and always goes in last; there is early school; +in some houses there are no hot baths. On the first day the studies are +loud with murmurs of: + +"Oh! this rotten summer term." + +"No spare time and cricket." + +"Awful!" + +For Fernhurst was primarily a footer school. Buller had captained +England and had infused much of his own enthusiasm into his Fifteens; +but the cricket coach, a Somerset professional, lacked "the Bull's" +personality and force, and so for the last few years the doings of the +Eleven had been slight and unmeritable. Even Lovelace major had been +unable to carry a whole side on his shoulders. As soon as he was out the +school ceased to take any interest in the game. Fernhurst batting was of +the stolid, lifeless type, and showed an almost mechanical subservience +to the bowling. + +But for Gordon this term was sheer joy. He loved cricket +passionately--last season at his preparatory school he had headed the +batting averages, and kept wicket with a certain measure of success. As +a bat he was reckless in the extreme; time after time he flung away his +wicket, trying to cut straight balls past point; he was the despair of +anyone who tried to coach him; but he managed to get runs. + +For cricket the School House was divided into A-K and L-Z, according to +which division the names of the boys fell into. Meredith was captain of +the House and of L-Z, while FitzMorris captained A-K. For the first half +of the term there were Junior House Single-Innings matches played in the +American method, and afterwards came the Two-Innings Senior matches on +the knock-out system. A-K Junior this year had quite a decent side. +Foster was not at all a bad slow bowler, and was known to have made +runs. Collins had a useful but unorthodox shot which he applied to every +ball, no matter where it pitched, and which landed the ball either over +shortslip's head or over the long-on boundary. In the nets it was a +hideous performance, but in Junior House matches, where runs are the one +consideration it was extremely useful. A certain Betteridge captained +the side, not because of any personal attainments, but because he was on +the V. A table, and had played in Junior House matches with consistent +results for three years. He went in tenth and sometimes bowled. + +These matches began at once, as Stewart, the captain of the Eleven, was +anxious to spot useful men for the Colts, the under sixteen side, who +wore white caps with a blue dragon worked on them. And so on the second +Saturday of the term A-K drew Buller's in the first round. Before the +game FitzMorris had the whole side in his study to fix the positions in +the field. Some of the side had played little serious cricket before. +Brown, in fact, asked if he might field middle and leg. But at last they +were placed more or less to their own satisfaction, and FitzMorris gave +them a short "jaw" on keenness. Cricket was about the one thing he +really cared for; as a chemistry specialist he spent most of his day +adoze in the laboratory. It was only in the cricket field that he really +woke up. + +With great solemnity Betteridge walked forward to toss with Felsted, the +Buller's captain. A few seconds later he returned to announce that +Buller's had won the toss and put them in. The captain of a Junior House +side is always very fond of putting the other side in first. P.F. Warner +would demand rain overnight, a drying ground, a fast wind and a baking +sun before he would dare do such a thing. But Felsted was made of +sterner stuff. + +Gordon was sent in first with Collins. The idea was to try and knock the +bowlers off their length early. Gordon was very nervous. "The Bull" was +umpire at one end and FitzMorris at the other. Meredith had strolled +over to watch, as L-Z had drawn a bye. Mansell was in the Pavilion +eating an ice. All eyes seemed on him. He had made Collins take the +first ball. The start was worthy of the best School House traditions. +The first ball was well outside the off-stump; it landed in the National +School grounds that ran alongside of the school field. A howl of +untuneful applause went up. This was the cricket anyone could +appreciate, and this was the cricket that was always seen on a School +House game. Its only drawback was that could not last. Collins made a +few more daring strokes. In the second over he made a superb drive over +shortslip's head to the boundary, and his next shot nearly ended +FitzMorris' somnolent existence. It was great while it lasted, but, like +all great things, it came to an end. He gave the simplest of chances to +cover point, and Buller's rarely missed their catches. + +It was so with nearly all the other members of the side. Three or four +terrific hits and then back under the trees again. Gordon alone seemed +at all comfortable. Either the novelty of the surroundings (it was only +his second innings at Fernhurst), or else the presence of "the Bull," +quieted his customary recklessness. At any rate, he attempted no +leg-glides on the off-stump, and in consequence found little difficulty +in staying in. The boundaries, as was natural on a side ground, were +quite close. Runs came quite easily. During the interval after Foster's +dismissal "the Bull" walked across to him: + +"How old are you, Caruthers?" + +"Thirteen and a half, sir." + +"Oh, good thing to come young. I did myself. Keep that left foot well +across and you'll stop in all day. Well done. Stick to it." + +Gordon was amazingly bucked up. He had always heard "the Bull" was +anti-School House, and here he was encouraging one of his enemies. What +rot fellows did talk. Splendid man "the Bull"! He would tell Mansell so +that night. + +And his opinion was even more strengthened when, after he had been clean +bowled for forty-three without a chance, "the Bull" stopped him on the +way out and said: + +"Well done, Caruthers! Plucky knock. Go and have a tea at the tuck-shop, +and put it down to my account." + +The School House innings closed for one hundred and forty-eight. +"Nothing like big enough," said Foster. + +FitzMorris overheard him. + +"Rot! Absolute rot! If you go on the field in that spirit you won't get +a single man out. Go in and win." + +And a very fine fight the House put up. Foster bowled splendidly, +Betteridge was fast asleep at point and brought off a marvellous +one-handed catch, while Gordon stumped Felsted in his third over. After +an hour's play seven men were out for about ninety. The scorers were at +variance, so the exact score could not be discovered. There seemed a +reasonable chance of winning. And to his dying day Gordon will maintain +that they would have won but for that silly ass of an umpire, +FitzMorris. Bridges, the Buller's wicket-keep, was run out by yards; +there was no doubt about it. Everyone saw it. But long hours at the +laboratory had made it very hard for FitzMorris to concentrate his brain +on anything for a long time; he was happily dreaming, let us hope, of +carbon bisulphate, when the roar, "How's that?" woke him up. He had to +give the man "not out"; there was nothing else to do. Twenty minutes +later, with a scandalous scythe-stroke, Bridges made the winning hit. + +"Never mind, your men put up a good fight; the luck was all on our +side," said "the Bull" to Caruthers. "Let's see, it's Sunday to-morrow, +isn't it? Well, on Monday, then, come round to the nets; you want to +practise getting that left foot across. Look here, just get your bat and +I'll toss you up one or two now at the nets!" + +That night "the Bull," talking over the game with his side in the +dormitories, said: "That Caruthers, you know, he's a good man; sort of +fellow we want in the school. Can fight an uphill game. Got grit. He'll +make a lot of runs for the school some day." + +On Monday Gordon saw his name down for nets with the Colts Eleven. Life +was good just then. If only Jeffries were there too.... + + + + +CHAPTER VI: CLARKE + + +"Ferguson, the House is getting jolly slack; something's got to be +done." + +Ferguson sat up in his chair. Clarke had been quiet nearly the whole of +hall; there was obviously something up. + +"Oh, I don't know. Why, only a quarter of an hour ago I came across +Collins and Brown playing stump cricket in the cloisters instead of +studying Thucydides. That's what I call keenness." + +"What did you say to them?" + +"Oh, I've forgotten now, but it was something rather brilliant. I know +it was quite lost on them. The Shell can't appreciate epigram. They +ought to read more Wilde. Great book _Intentions_. Ever read it, Clarke? + +"Oh, confound your Wildes and Shaws; that's just what I object to. Here +are these kids, who ought to be working, simply wasting their time, +thinking of nothing but games. Why, I was up in the House tutor's room +last night and was glancing down the list of form orders. Over half the +House was in double figures." + +"But, my good man, why worry? As long as the lads keep quiet in hall, +and leave us in peace, what does it matter? Peace at any price, that's +what I say; we get so little of it in this world, let us hang on to the +little we have got." + +"But look what a name the House will get." + +"The House will get much the same reputation in the school as England +has in Europe. The English as a whole are pleasure-loving and slack. +They worship games; and, after all, the Englishman is a jolly sight +better fellow than the average German or Frenchman." + +"Yes, of course he's a better fellow, but the rotten thing is that he +might be a much better fellow still. If as a country we had only +ourselves to think about, let us put up a god of sport. But we have not. +We have to compete with the other nations of the world. And late cuts +are precious little use in commerce. This athleticism is ruining the +country. At any rate, I am not going to have it in the House. In hall +they've got to work; and if their places in form aren't better next week +there's going to be trouble." + +"Yes there'll most certainly be trouble. I can't think why you won't +leave well alone. Lord Henry Wootton used to say----" + +But Clarke was paying no attention. + +That evening he got up after prayers to address the House. + +"Will nothing stop this fellow's love of oratory?" murmured Betteridge. + +"I have to speak to the House on a subject which I consider important," +began Clarke. ("Which probably means that it's most damnable nonsense," +whispered Mansell.) "The position of the members of the House in form +order is not at all creditable. In future every week the senior member +of each form will bring me a list with the places of each School House +member of the form on it. I intend to deal severely with anyone I find +consistently low. I hope, however, that I shall not have need to. This +is the best house socially and athletically; there is no reason why we +should not be the best house at work too." + +"As I prophesied," said Mansell, "most damnable nonsense!" + +On the Second and Third Forms this speech had a considerable effect. For +the first time in his life Cockburn did some work, and at the end of the +week he was able to announce that he had gone up two places--from +seventeenth to fifteenth. There were seventeen in the form. + +The Shell and the Lower Fourth were, of course, too old to consider the +possibility of actually working. It was a preposterous idea. Something +had to be done, however, so Collins bought excellent translations of the +works of Vergil and Xenophon. A vote of thanks proposed by Foster and +seconded by Brown was very properly carried _nem. con._ + +But in V. B and IV. A there were some strong, rebellious spirits who +would not bow down under any tyranny. In Study No. 1, at the end of the +passage on the lower landing, Mansell addressed a meeting of delegates +with great fervour. + +"From time immemorial," he thundered out, "it has been the privilege of +the members of this House" (he had been reading _John Bull_ the day +before) "to enjoy themselves, to work if they wanted to, to smoke if +they wanted to, to do any damned thing they wanted to. The only thing +they'd got to do was to play like hell in the Easter term, and here's +that ---- Clarke trying to make us do work, and, what is more, to work +for Claremont! Gentlemen, let us stand by our traditions." (Mr Bottomley +is useful at times.) + +"That's all very jolly," said the practical Farrow, "but what are you +doing?" + +"Oh, it doesn't matter what we do, as long as we stand up for our +rights. Who ever heard of School House men working?" + +"Now look here, my good fellows," said the ingenious Archie, "it's quite +simple, if you will only do as I tell you. Clarke told us to bring him a +form list; the obvious thing to do is not to bring one at all." + +"But, you silly ass, the fellow who ought to have brought it will get +into the very Hades of a row." + +"Exactly. But who is the responsible person? Clarke said the senior man. +Well, now, in IV. A I am, as far as work is concerned, the senior man in +the form. But Hasel has been in the form a term longer than me, while +Farrow, a most arrant idiot, who has only just reached the form, has +been in the House a year longer than either of us. There is no senior +man. We have all excellent claims to the position, but we waive them in +favour of our inferiors." + +Archie was at once acclaimed as the Napoleon of deceit. That week Clarke +found no form order either from IV. A or V.B. After prayers that evening +he asked to see all those in IV. A and V.B. + +When the conspirators arrived at his study Clarke found that everything +had been elaborately prepared. There was not a single hitch in the +argument. No one was at fault. There had been a general +misunderstanding. They were, of course, very sorry. Clarke listened in +silence. + +"Well, I'm sorry this has happened. But when I say that I want a thing +done, I expect it to be done. None of you are to blame particularly; but +you are all equally guilty. I shall be forced to cane the lot of you." + +There was a gasp. They had known Clarke was a strong man, but they had +hardly expected this. Mansell was indignant. + +"But look here, Clarke, you can't beat me, I'm a House cap." + +"Can't I?" + +"It has been a House tradition for years that a House cap can't be +beaten." + +"I am sorry, Mansell, but I have little respect for traditions. Will you +all wait for me in the Sixth Form room?" + +"All right, I shall go to the Chief then." + +"I don't think you will, Mansell." + +The Chief was not very fond of receiving complaints about his House +prefects. + +It was, of course, obvious that Clarke, when he had started on a job +like this, had to carry it through. If he had gone back, his position +would have been impossible; but there could be no doubt that it was a +disastrous campaign as far as the unity of the House was concerned. At +once the House was divided into sides, and nearly the whole of the Sixth +Form was against Clarke. + +"It's not the duty of the head of the House to see how people are +working. That is a House master's job," pointed out FitzMorris. "All +Clarke has got to do is to see that the kids don't rag in hall, and at +other times more or less behave themselves." + +The House was in a state of open rebellion. + +And the worst of it was that none of the other prefects made any attempt +to keep order. Now there was a rule that in hall only three people might +be allowed in one study, the idea being that, if more got in, work would +be bound to change into conversation. One evening, however, a huge crowd +slowly congregated in Mansell's study. Lovelace dropped in to borrow a +book, and stayed. Hunter and Gordon came for a chat, and stayed too. +Archie Fletcher had, as was usual with him, done all his preparation in +half-an-hour, and was in search of something to do. Betteridge heard a +noise outside, walked in, and stopped to give his opinion on the chances +of A-K beating L-Z that week. In a few minutes the conversation got +rather heated. The noise could be heard all down the passage. + +Meredith came down to see what was going on. + +"Ah, 'some' party! Well, Mansell, got over your beating yet?" + +There was subdued laughter. + +"I say, Meredith, have A-K the slightest chance of beating us on +Thursday?" Lovelace was captain of L-Z Junior, and had laid rather +heavily on a victory. + +"Of course not, my good man, I'm going to umpire." + +This time the laughter was not subdued. + +In his retreat at the far end of the studies Clarke heard it. Down the +passage he thundered, knocked at the door, and came in. + +"What's the meaning of this? You know quite well that not more than +three are allowed in here at one time. Come to my study, the lot of +you." + +All this time Meredith was being jammed behind the door. + +"When you have quite finished, Clarke," he said. + +"I am sorry, Meredith. Are you responsible for this?" + +"In a way, yes. I was rather afraid that the House was getting slack +about their work. A very bad thing for a house, Clarke! So I took this +opportunity of holding a little viva voce examination. We were studying +'The Sermon on the Mount,' a singularly beautiful and impressive +passage, Clarke. Have you read it?" + +Clarke had read it that day as the lesson in chapel. He had also read it +rather badly, having a cold in his head. + +"You seem to have rather a large class, Meredith," he said +sarcastically. + +"Yes; like our good Lord, I have beaten the by-ways and the hedges, and +I am almost afraid I shall also have to beat Mansell. He has singularly +failed to appreciate the full meaning of that passage about 'humility.'" + +Clarke saw he was beaten, and turned away. As he walked down the passage +he heard a roar of laughter coming from Study No. 1. + +The story was all round the House in half-an-hour, and on his way down +to prayers Clarke heard FitzMorris say before a whole crowd: + +"You are a great fellow, Meredith. That's the way to keep these upstarts +in order." + +That night there was merriment in the games study, and Ferguson advised +Clarke to let the matter drop. + +"After all, you know, it's not your business." + +And perhaps Clarke realised that Ferguson was for once right. But he had +to go on; it was very hard, though. He had been quite popular before he +was head of the House. He wished he had left a year ago. For it is hard +to be hated where one loves. And Clarke, well as he loved Fernhurst, +loved the House a hundred times more. + + * * * * * + +"Well played, Caruthers; jolly good knock." + +"Well done, Caruthers!" + +Lovelace and Mansell banged excitedly into Gordon's study the evening +after the Colts match _v._ Murchester. Gordon had made thirty-seven on a +wet wicket, and a defeat by over a hundred runs was no fault of his. He +had gone in first wicket down, and stayed till the close. + +"It was splendid! You ought to be a cert. for your Colts' cap. 'The +Bull' was fearfully bucked." + +"Oh, I don't know; it was not so very much." In his heart of hearts +Gordon was pretty certain he would get his cap; but it would never do to +show what he thought. + +"Oh, rot, my good man," burst out Lovelace. "You didn't give a chance +after the first over. And, by Jove, that was a bit of luck then." + +"Yes, you know, I have a good deal of luck one way and another. I +haven't got in a single row yet; and I am always being missed." + +"And some fellows have no luck at all. Now Foster was batting +beautifully before he was run out; never saw such a scandalous mix-up. +All the other man's fault. He bowled well, too. I shouldn't be a bit +surprised if he didn't get his Colts' cap. I know 'the Bull' likes him." + +"Do you think so?" said Gordon. He did not know why, but he rather hoped +Foster would not get his cap. He himself would be captain of A-K Junior +next year. It would be better if he was obviously senior to Foster. He +was going to be the match-winning factor; and, so far as seniority goes, +there is not much to choose between men who get their colours on the +same day. + +"Of course he won't if you don't," Mansell said, "but I think he's +worth it. I say, let's have a feed to-night. There's just time before +hall to order some stuff. Lovelace, rush off to the tuck-shop, and put +it down to my account." + +Gordon found it impossible to work during hall; he fidgeted nervously. +He felt as he had felt on the last day of his first term before +prize-giving. He knew if he was going to get his Colts' cap he would get +it early that night. Stewart always gave colours during first hall. He +sat and waited nervously; work became quite impossible. He looked +through _The Daily Telegraph_ and flung it aside; then picked up _The +London Mail_; that was rather more in his line. + +There was a sound of talking down the passage. He heard Clarke's voice +saying: + +"Yes, down there, third study down, No. 16." + +A second later there was a knock on the door. He managed to gulp out: +"Come in." + +"Gratters on your Colts' cap, Caruthers. Well played!" + +Stewart shook hands with him. The next minute Gordon heard him walking +to the school notice-board in the cloister. He was pinning up the +notice. + +Gordon sat quite still; his happiness was too great.... + +No one is allowed to walk about in the studies before eight dining-hall. +For a quarter of an hour there was silence in the passage. + +Eight struck; there was an opening of doors. + +A few minutes later Hunter dashed in. + +"Well done, Caruthers. Hooray!" + +"Well done, Caruthers!" "Good old A-K!" "I am so glad!" Everyone seemed +pleased. + +Just before prayers, as he sat at the top of the day-room table, +FitzMorris came over to him. "Jolly good, Caruthers. Well done." His cup +was full. + +Foster did not get his cap.... + +The next day as Gordon was walking across the courts in break "the Bull" +came up to him. + +"Gratters, Caruthers; wasn't your fault you lost. I like a man who can +fight uphill. You have got the grit--well done, lad." + +"And yet," said Gordon to Mansell, as they passed under the school +gate, "you say that man cares only for his house. Why, he only loves his +house because it's a part of Fernhurst; and Fernhurst is the passion of +his life!" + + + + +CHAPTER VII: WHEN ONE IS IN ROME ... + + +Generalisations are always apt to be misleading, but there was surely no +truer one ever spoken than the old proverb: "When one is in Rome, one +does as Rome does!" Parsons and godmothers will, of course, protest +that, if you found yourselves among a crowd of robbers and drunkards, +you would not copy _them_! And yet it is precisely what the average +individual would do. When a boy leaves his preparatory school he has a +conscience; he would not tell lies; he would be scrupulously honest in +form; he would not borrow things he never meant to return; he would say +nothing he would be ashamed of his mother or sister overhearing. + +But before this same innocent has been at school two terms he has learnt +that everything except money is public property. The name in a book or +on a hockey stick means nothing. Someone once said to Collins: + +"I say, I want to write here, are those your books?" + +"No, they are the books I use," was the laconic answer. + +The code of a Public School boy's honour is very elastic. Masters are +regarded as common enemies; and it is never necessary to tell them the +truth. Expediency is the golden rule in all relations with the common +room. And after a very few weeks even Congreve would have had to own +that the timid new boy could spin quite as broad a yarn as he. The +parents do not realise this. It is just as well. It is a stage in the +development of youth. Everyone must pass through it. Yet sometimes it +leads to quite a lot of misunderstanding. + +There were one or two incidents during this summer term that stood out +very clearly in Gordon's memory as proofs of the way masters may fail to +realise the boy's point of view. + +One morning just after breakfast Gordon discovered that he had done the +wrong maths for Jenks. He rushed in search of Fletcher. + +"I say, Archie, look here, be a sport. I have done the wrong stuff for +that ass Jenks. Let's have a look at yours." + +In ten minutes four tremendous howlers in as many sums had been +reproduced on Gordon's paper. The work was collected that morning, and +nothing more was heard of it till the next day. Gordon thought himself +quite safe and had ceased to take any interest in the matter. The form +was working out some riders more or less quietly. Suddenly Jenks's tired +voice murmured: + +"Caruthers, did you copy your algebra off Fletcher?" + +"No, sir." + +Jenks was rather fond of asking such leading questions. + +Caruthers had got tired of it. The man was a fool; he must know by this +time that he was bound to get the same answer. + +"Fletcher, did you copy off Caruthers?" + +"No, sir." + +"Caruthers, did you see Fletcher's paper?" + +"No, sir." + +How insistent the ass was getting. + +"Fletcher, did you see Caruther's paper?" + +"No, sir." + +"Oh, you silly fellows. Then I shall have to put both your papers before +the Headmaster. I'm afraid you will both be expelled." + +Jenks had a strange notion of the offences that merited expulsion. Every +time he reported a boy he expected to see him marching sadly to the +station to catch the afternoon train. Once Collins had stuck a pin into +a wonderful mercury apparatus and entirely ruined it. + +"Oh, Collins, you stupid boy. I shall have to report you to the +Headmaster, and you know what that means. We sha'n't see you here any +more." + +Gordon had, of course, not the slightest fear of getting "bunked." But +still it was a nuisance. He would have to be more careful next time. + +"Now look here, you two," Jenks went on, after a bit. "If either of you +cares to own up, I won't report you at all. I will deal with you +myself." + +Slowly Gordon rose. It was obviously an occasion where it paid to own +up. + +"I did, sir." + +"Oh I thought as much. You see yours was in pencil, and if possible a +little worse than Fletcher's. Sit down." + +Betteridge afterwards said that to watch Jenks rushing across the courts +to see the Chief during the minute interval between the exit of one +class and the arrival of the next was better than any pantomime. He was +very small; he had a large white moustache; his gown was too long; it +blew out like sails in the wind. Besides, it was the first time Jenks +had ever been seen to run. + +In due time Caruthers and Fletcher appeared before the Chief. The result +was only a long "jaw" and a bad report. The Chief could not perhaps be +expected to see that a lie was any the less a lie because it was told to +a master. But in the delinquents any feeling of penitence there might +have been was entirely obscured by an utter scorn of Jenks. + +"After all, the man did say he wouldn't report us," said Fletcher. + +"Oh, it's all you can expect from these 'stinks men.' They have no sense +of honour." + +It did not occur to Gordon that in this instance his own sense of honour +had not been tremendously in evidence. The Public School system had set +its mark on him. + +The other incident was the great clothes row. All rows spring from the +most futile sources. This one began with the sickness of one +Evans-Smith, who was suddenly taken ill in form. It was a hot day, and +he fainted. Now Evans-Smith was an absolute nonentity. It was only his +second term, but he had already learnt that anything that was in the +changing-room was common property; and so when the matron took off his +shoes before putting him to bed she saw Rudd's name inside. The matter +was reported to the Chief. The Chief made a tour of the changing-room +during afternoon school, and his eyes were opened. For instance, it was +quite obvious that Turner had changed. His school suit was hung on his +peg, his blazer was presumably on him, and yet his cricket trousers were +lying on the floor, with Fischer's house scarf sticking out of the +pocket. There were many other like discoveries. + +In hall that night the Chief asked Turner whose trousers he was wearing +that afternoon. The wretched youth had not the slightest idea; all he +knew was that they were not his own. He thought they might be +Bradford's. + +After prayers the Chief addressed the House on the subject. He pointed +out how carelessness in little things led to carelessness in greater, +and how dangerous it was to get into a habit of taking other people's +things without thinking. He also said that it was most unhealthy to wear +someone else's clothes. He was, of course, quite right; but the House +could not see it, for the simple reason that it did not want to see it. +It would be an awful nuisance to have to look after one's own things. +Besides, probably the man next to you had a much newer sweater. The +House intended to go on as before. And indeed it did. + +One day Ferguson thought he wanted some exercise. It was a half-holiday, +and Clarke was quite ready for a game of tennis. Ferguson went down to +the changing-room. The first thing he saw was that his tennis shoes were +gone. He thought it quite impossible that anyone should dare to bag his +things. Fuming with wrath, he banged into the matron's room. + +"I say, Matron, look here; my tennis shoes are gone." + +And then, suddenly, he saw the Chief standing at the other end of the +room, glancing down the dormitory list. + +"Oh, really, Ferguson, I must see about this. Matron, do you know +anything about Ferguson's shoes?" + +"No, sir! Never touch the boys' shoes. George is the only person who +looks after them; and he only cleans _black_ boots and shoes." + +"Oh, well, then, Ferguson, you'd better come with me, and we will make a +search for them." + +Ferguson cursed inwardly. This would mean at least half-an-hour wasted; +and he could so easily have found another pair. The School House +changing-room is a noble affair. It is about seventy feet long and sixty +wide. All round it run small partitioned-off benches; in the middle are +stands for corps clothes. At one end there is what was once a piano. +Laboriously the Chief and Ferguson hunted round the room. In the far +corner there was an airing cupboard. It was a great sight to see +Ferguson climb up on the top of this. He was not a gymnast, and he took +some time doing it. Hunter sat changing at one end of the room, +thoroughly enjoying himself. + +Down the passage a loud, tuneless voice began to sing _Who were You with +Last Night?_ and Mansell rolled in. He saw the Chief, and stopped +suddenly, going over to Hunter. + +"What does the old idiot want?" + +"He's hunting for Ferguson's tennis shoes." + +"Good Lord! and I've got them on." + +"Well, get them off, then, quick." + +In a second, while the Chief was looking the other way, Mansell stole +across to the middle of the room and laid them on the top of the +hot-water pipes. + +About two minutes later Ferguson burst out: + +"Look, sir, here they are!" + +"But, my dear Ferguson, I'm sure we must have looked there." + +"Yes, sir. I thought we had." + +"Er, 't any rate there are your shoes, Ferguson, and I hope you'll have +a good game!" The Chief went out, rather annoyed at having wasted so +much time. At tea that evening there was mirth at the V. B table. + +On this occasion trouble was avoided. But one day Willing, a new boy, +lost his corps hat. He was certain it had been there before lunch. The +Corps Parade was already falling in. Seeing no other hat to fit him, he +very idiotically went on without a hat at all. It would have been far +better to have cut parade altogether. Clarke asked him where his hat +was, but his ideas on the subject were very nebulous. The whole corps +was kept waiting while School House hats were examined. Ten people had +got hats other than their own. + +They each got a Georgic.... + +The pent-up fury of the House now broke loose. Everyone swore he would +murder Clarke on the last day, bag his clothes, and hold him in a cold +bath for half-an-hour. If half of the things that were going to be done +on the last day ever happened, how very few heads of houses would live +to tell the tale! It is so easy to talk, so very hard to do anything; a +head of the House is absolutely supreme. If he is at all sensitive, it +is possible to make his life utterly wretched by a silent demonstration +of hatred, but if he is at all a man, threats can never mature, and +Clarke was a man. During his last days at Fernhurst he was supremely +miserable. The House was split up into factions: he himself had no one +to talk to except Ferguson and Sandham. But he carried on the grim joke +to its completion. In the last week he beat four boys for being low in +form, and gave a whole dormitory a hundred lines daily till the end of +the term for talking after lights out. The Chief was sorry to lose him; +Ferguson would make a very weak head. The future was not too bright. + + * * * * * + +"I say, you know, I think I had better get a 'budge' this term." Gordon +announced this fact as the Lower Fifth were pretending to prepare for +the exam. Mansell protested: + +"Now don't be a damned ass, my good man; you don't know when you are +well off. You stop with old Methuselah a bit longer. He is a most +damnable ass, but his form is a glorious slack." + +"Oh, well, I don't know. I think the Sixth is slacker still. I am going +to specialise in something when I get there. I am not quite sure what. +But it's going to mean a lot of study hours." + +At Fernhurst there was a great scheme by which specialists always worked +in their studies. To specialise was the dream of every School House boy. +It is so charming to watch, from the warm repose of your own study, +black figures rushing across the rain-swept courts on the way to their +class-rooms (it always rained at Fernhurst), and Gordon was essentially +a hedonist. + +"Yes, I suppose the higher you go up the less work you do," said +Mansell. "When I was with old 'Bogus' I used to prepare my lessons +sometimes, and, what's more, with a dictionary." + +"Oh, _Quantum mutatus ab illo_," sighed Gordon. + +"Yes, you know," said Betteridge, "the higher you get up the school the +less you need worry about what you do. The prefect is supposed to be the +model of what a Public School boy should be. And yet he is about the +fastest fellow in the school. If I got caught in Davenham's study by +the Chief, even if I said I was only borrowing a pencil, I should get in +the deuce of a row. But Meredith can sit there all hall and say he's +making inquiries about a boxing competition. He's trusted. The lower +forms aren't allowed to prepare in their studies. They might use a crib, +so they have to work in the day-room or big school. The Fifth is trusted +to work, so it can spend school hours in its studies. Of course the +Third works the whole time, while the Fifth just writes the translation +between the lines and then plays barge cricket. It's no use trusting a +Public School boy. Put faith in him and he'll take advantage of it; and +yet there are still some who say the Public School system is +satisfactory!" + +"And I am one of them," said Mansell. "I've had a damned good term so +far, and next term, when I get that big study, I shall have a still +finer time. School may be bad as a moral training, but I live to enjoy +myself. Here's to the Public School system. Long may it live!" + +Betteridge smiled rather sadly; he was not an athlete. + + * * * * * + +The summer exams turned out a lamentably dull affair. Claremont +superintended the Shell and the Lower Fifth. Anyone who wished to crib +could have done so easily. But hardly anyone took the trouble. Mansell +swore he would stay where he was. Ruddock, Johnstone and the other old +stagers were all of the same opinion. Gordon had determined to get high +enough for a promotion, but no higher; tenth would do; and it was easy +to get up there. The small boys in the front bench were all Balliol +scholars in embryo; it would not pay them to crib. The great law of +expediency overhung all proceedings. The result was that they were as +lifeless and dull as most other virtuous things. + +There were, however, a few bright incidents, the foremost of which was +the Divinity exam. Claremont, we know, was a parson and a lover of +poetry, and that term the form had been reading Judges and Samuel and +Kings. As the Divinity exam. came first, it would be wise to put the old +man in a good temper. Ruddock introduced Mr ffoakes Jackson's work on +the Old Testament disguised as a writing-pad. + +There is nothing easier than to write down correct answers to one-word +questions, if you have the answer-book in front of you. Ruddock's +writing-pad passed slowly round the back and centre benches. Next day +the result was announced. + +"Well," said Claremont, "I must own that I was agreeably surprised by +the results of the Divinity papers. The lowest mark was seventy-nine out +of a hundred, and that was Kennedy." (Kennedy was invariably top in the +week's order.) "Ruddock did a really remarkable paper, and scored a +hundred out of a hundred. Johnstone and Caruthers both got ninety-nine, +and several others were in the nineties. In fact, the only ones in the +eighties were those who usually excel. I have taken the form now for +over thirty years, and this is quite unparalleled. I shall ask the +Headmaster if a special prize cannot be given to Johnstone. He certainly +deserves one." + +But the Chief was very wise. As he glanced down the mark list he +realised that Johnstone's marks could hardly be due to honest work. But +the Chief was also very tactful. He thought, on the whole, that in case +of such general merit it would be invidious to single any individual out +for special distinction, and, of course, he could not give prizes to +everyone. He would, however, most certainly mention the fact at +prize-giving. When he did, the applause was strangely mingled with +laughter. + +But this was only one incident in many dull hours. As a whole, the +week's exam. failed to provide much to look back on afterwards with any +satisfaction. Even the Chemistry exam. fell flat. FitzMorris picked up a +copy of the paper on Jenks's desk and took a copy of it. The marks here +also were above the average. + + * * * * * + +It is inevitable that the end of the summer term should be overhung with +an atmosphere of sadness. When the new September term opens there are +many faces that will be missing; the giants of yester-year will have +departed; another generation will have taken their places. But for all +that these last days are not without their own particular glory. Rome +must have been very wonderful during the last week of Sulla's +consulship. And in the passing of Meredith there was something +essentially splendid; for it happens so seldom in life that the +culminating point of our success coincides with the finish of anything. +We are continually being mocked by the horror of the second best. We do +not know where to stop; we cling too long to our laurels; and when the +end finally comes they have begun to wither. Death is an anti-climax. +The heart that once loved, and was as grass before the winds of passion, +has grown cold amid a world of commonplace. But at school there is no +dragging out of triumphs. All too soon the six short years fly past, and +we stand on the threshold of life in the very flush of our pride. "Just +once in a while we may finish in style." It is not often; the roses +fade. + +The final of the Senior House matches was drawing to a close on the last +Friday of the term. Buller's were beating the School House L-Z easily. +There had never been any doubt about the result. L-Z was entirely a +one-man side, that Meredith had managed to carry it on his shoulders +through the two first rounds. + +The House had only two wickets in hand, and still wanted over eighty +runs to avoid an innings' defeat. But Meredith was still in. It had been +a great innings. He had gone in first with Mansell, and watched wicket +after wicket fall, while he had gone on playing the same brilliant game. +Every stroke was the signal of a roar from the pavilion. The whole House +was looking on. It was a fitting end to a dazzling career. It was like +his life, reckless and magnificent. At last he mis-hit a half-volley and +was caught in the deep for seventy-two. + +As he left the wicket the whole House surged forward in front of the +pavilion, and formed up in two lines, leaving a gangway. Amid tremendous +applause Meredith ran between them. The cheering was deafening. + +After prayers that night the Chief said a few words about the match. + +"I am sorry we did not win; but, then, I don't think many of us dared to +hope for that. At any rate, we were not disgraced, and I wish to take +the opportunity of congratulating Meredith, not only on his superb +innings this afternoon, but also on his keen and energetic captaincy +throughout the term." + +This was the signal for another demonstration. Everyone beat with their +fists upon their table. It was a great scene. + +The giants of our youth always appear to us much greater than those of +any successive era. In future years Gordon was to see other captains of +football, other captains of cricket, but with the exception of the +tremendous Lovelace, Meredith towered above them all. He was at that +moment the very great god of Gordon's soul. He seemed to be all that +Gordon wished to be, brilliant and successful. Surely the fates had +showered on him all their gifts. + +On the last Monday there was a huge feed in the games study. Over twenty +people were crowded in. Armour was there, Mansell, Gordon, Simonds, +Foster, Ferguson, everyone except Clarke. There was no one who was not +sorry to lose Meredith; his achievements so dazzled them that they could +see nothing beyond them. They were proud to have such a man in the +house. It was all sheer happiness. + +Somehow on the last day the following notice appeared on the House +board:-- + + In Memoriam + MALEVUS SCHOLARUM + In hadibus requiescat + Quod non sine ignominia militavit + +No one knew who was responsible for it. Clarke looked at it for a second +and turned away with a face that expressed no emotion. + +By the Sixth Form green Simonds was shouting across to Meredith: + +"Best of luck, old fellow, and mind you come down for the House +supper...." + +On the way down to the station Archie Fletcher burst out: + +"Well, thank God, that swine Clarke's gone. He absolutely mucked up the +House." Gordon agreed. + +"If we had a few more men like Meredith now!" Rather a change had come +over the boy who a year before had been shocked at the swearing in the +bathroom. "When one is in Rome...." + + + + +BOOK II: THE TANGLED SKEIN + + "Et je m'en vais + Au vent mauvais + Qui m'emporte + Deça delà + Pareil à la + Feuille morte." + + PAUL VERLAINE. + + + + +CHAPTER I: QUANTUM MUTATUS + + +If Gordon were given the opportunity of living any single year over +again, exactly as he had lived it before, he would in all probability +have chosen his second year at Fernhurst. He had then put safely out of +sight behind him the doubts and anxieties of the junior; he had not yet +reached any of the responsibilities of the senior. It was essentially a +time of light-hearted laughter, of "rags," of careless happiness. Every +day dawned without a trace of trouble imminent; every night closed with +a feed in Mansell's big study, while the gramophone strummed out +rag-time choruses. And yet these three terms were very critical ones in +the development of Gordon's character. Sooner or later everyone must +pass through the middle stage Keats speaks of, where "the way of life is +uncertain, and the soul is in a ferment." Most boys have at their +preparatory schools been so carefully looked after that they have never +learnt to think for themselves. They take everything as a matter of +course. They believe implicitly what their masters tell them about what +is right and wrong. Life is divided up into so many rules. But when the +boy reaches his Public School he finds himself in a world where actions +are regulated not by conscience, but by caprice. Boys do what they know +is wrong; then invent a theory to prove it is right; and finally +persuade themselves that black is white. It is pure chance what the +Public School system will make of a boy. During the years of his +apprenticeship, so to speak, he merely sits quiet, listening and +learning; then comes the middle period, the period in which he is +gradually changing into manhood. In it all his former experiences are +jumbled hopelessly together, his life is in itself a paradox. He does +things without thinking. There is no consistency in his actions. Then +finally the threads are unravelled, and out of the disorder of +conflicting ideas and emotions the tapestry is woven on the wonderful +loom of youth. + +The average person comes through all right. He is selfish, easy-going, +pleasure-loving, absolutely without a conscience, for the simple reason +that he never thinks. But he is a jolly good companion; and the +Freemasonry of a Public School is amazing. No man who has been through a +good school can be an outsider. He may hang round the Empire bar, he may +cheat at business; but you can be certain of one thing, he will never +let you down. Very few Public School men ever do a mean thing to their +friends. And for a system that produces such a spirit there is something +to be said after all. + +But for the boy with a personality school is very dangerous. Being +powerful, he can do nothing by halves; his actions influence not only +himself, but many others. On his surroundings during the time of +transition from boyhood to manhood depend to a great extent the +influence that man will work in the world. He will do whatever he does +on a large scale, and people are bound to look at him. He may stand at +the head of the procession of progress; he may dash himself to pieces +fighting for a worthless cause; and by the splendour of his contest draw +many to him. More likely he will be like Byron, a wonderful, +irresponsible creature, who at one time plumbed the depths, and at +another swept the heavens--a creature irresistibly attractive, because +he is irresistibly human. Gordon was a personality. His preparatory +school master said of him once: "He will be a great failure or a great +success, perhaps both," and it was the truest thing ever said of him. At +present the future was very uncertain. During his first year he had been +imbibing knowledge from his contemporaries; he had been a spectator; now +the time had come for him to take his part in the drama of Fernhurst +life. All ignorant he went his way; careless, arrogant and proud. + +It must be owned that during this year Gordon was rather an +objectionable person. He was very much above himself. For five years he +had been tightly held in check, and when freedom at last came he did not +quite know how to use it. He was boisterous and noisy; always in the +middle of everything. If ever there was a row in the studies, it would +be a sure assumption that Caruthers was mixed up in it. Everything +combined to give him a slack time. + +Ferguson was head of the House. But he took only a casual interest in +its welfare. + +"My dear Betteridge," he used to say, "if you were aware of the large +issues of art and life, you would see that it would be a mere waste of +time worrying about such a little thing as discipline in a house. You +should widen your intellectual horizon. Read Verlaine and Baudelaire and +then see life as it is." + +Ferguson was a poet; twice a term the school magazine was enriched with +a poem from his pen. His last effort was called _Languor_, and opened +with the line: + + "In amber dreams of amorous despair." + +"The Bull" had asked someone in his house what the thing meant. To +Ferguson that seemed a high compliment. To be incoherent was a great +gift. Swinburne often meant very little, and in his heart of hearts +Ferguson thought _Languor_ was, on the whole, more melodious than +_Dolores_. But that was, of course, purely a matter of opinion. At any +rate, it was a fine composition; and a poet must not dabble in the +common intrigues of little minds. + +He let the House go its own sweet way; and the House was grateful, and +gave Ferguson the reputation of being rather a sport. There were no more +weekly orders; no more cleaning of corps clothes. There was at last +peace in Jerusalem, and plenteousness within her palaces. + +Simonds was captain of the House. He was working hard for a History +scholarship, and could not spend much time in looking after House games. +There would be tons of time in the Easter term to train on House sides. +So he, too, let things slide, and the House lived a happy life. Those +who wanted to play footer, played; those who wanted to work, worked; +those who wished to do nothing, did nothing. A cheerful philosophy. For +a week it worked quite well. + +Gordon was lucky enough to find himself in the position of not only not +wanting to work, but also not having to. He had got his promotion into +V. A, and found it a land of milk and honey. Macdonald, his form master, +was one of the most splendid men Fernhurst has ever owned on its staff. +For over forty years he had sat in exactly the same chair, and watched +generation after generation pass, without appearing the least bit older. +He grew a little stout, perhaps. But his heart was the same. It took a +lot to trouble him. He realised that the world was too full of sceptics +and cynics, and swore that he would not number himself among them. He +was now the senior assistant master and the best scholar on the staff. + +"You know, these young men aren't what we were," he used to say to his +form; "not one of them can write a decent copy of Latin verses. All +these Cambridge men are useless--useless!" In his form it was +unnecessary to work very hard; but in it the average boy learnt more +than he learnt anywhere else. For Macdonald was essentially a scholar; +he did not merely mug up notes by German commentators an hour before the +lesson. For him the classics lived; and he made his form realise this. +To do Aristophanes with him was far better than any music hall. Horace +he hated. One day when they were doing _Donec gratus eram tibi_, he +burst out with wrath: + +"Horrible little cad he was! Can't you see him? Small man, blue nose +with too much drinking. Bibulous little beast. If I had been Lydia I +would have smacked his face and told him to go to Chloë. I'd have had +done with him. Beastly little cad!" + +But it was in history that he was at his best. It was a noble sight to +see him imitate the weak-kneed, slobbering James I; and he had the +private scandals of Henry VIII at his finger-tips. For all commentators +he had a profound contempt. One day he seized Farrar's edition of _St +Luke_, and holding it at arm's-length between his finger and thumb, +shook it before the form. + +"Filth," he cried, "filth and garbage; take it away and put it down the +water-closet." He had a genius for spontaneous comments. Kennedy was +very nervous; and whenever he said his rep. he used to hold the seat of +his trousers. + +"Man, man!" Macdonald shouted out, "you won't be able to draw any +inspiration from your stern." + +His form would be in a continuous roar of laughter all day long; and +when particularly pleased it always rubbed its feet on the floor, a +strange custom that had lasted many years. Claremont's form-room was +situated just above him, and he could often hardly hear himself speak. +He used to complain bitterly. + +"How I wish my jovial colleague down below would keep his form a little +more in order." + +But Macdonald got his revenge one day when Claremont was reciting +Macbeth's final speech fortissimo to his form. + +"Hush!" said Macdonald. "We must listen to this." Suddenly he chuckled +to himself: "And do you think he really imagines he is doing any good to +his form by giving that nigger minstrel entertainment up there?" + +The roar of laughter that followed quite spoilt the effect of the +recitation. Work became quite impossible in V.B. + +It was about this time that the House began to interest itself in the +welfare of Rudd. Rudd was the senior scholar of the year before, and he +looked like it. He was fairly tall and very thin. His legs bore little +relation to the rest of his body. They fell into place. He was of a +dusky countenance, partly because he was of Byzantine origin, partly +because he never shaved, chiefly because he did not wash. His clothes +always looked as if they had been rolled up into a bundle and used for +dormitory football. Perhaps they had. Rudd was not really a bad fellow. +He was by way of being a wit. One day the Chief had set the form a +three-hour Divinity paper, consisting of four longish questions. One +was: "Do you consider that the teaching of Socrates was in some respects +more truly Christian than that of St Paul?" Rudd showed up a whole sheet +with one word on it: "Yes." Next day his Sixth Form privileges were +taken away. But the House took little notice of his academic audacities. +Rudd did not wash; he was an insanitary nuisance; moreover, he did not +play footer. + +"That man Rudd is a disgrace to the House," Archie announced one evening +after tea; "he's useless to the House; he slacks at rugger and is +unclean. Let's ship his study." There was a buzz of assent. There was a +good deal of rowdyism going on in the House just then; and at times it +would have been hard to draw the exact borderline between ragging and +bullying. A solemn procession moved to Study No. 14. Rudd was working. + +"Hullo, Byzantium," said Mansell. "How goes it?" + +"Oh, get out, you; I want to work!" + +"Gentlemen, Mr Rudd wishes to work," Betteridge announced. "The question +is, shall he be allowed to? I say 'No!'" He suddenly jerked away the +chair Rudd was sitting on: the owner of the study collapsed on the +floor. + +Archie at once loosed a tremendous kick at his back. + +"Get up, you dirty swine! Haven't you any manners? Stand up when you are +talking to gentlemen." + +Rudd had a short temper; he let out and caught Mansell on the chin. It +is no fun ragging a man who doesn't lose his temper. But, as far as +Mansell was concerned, proceedings were less cordial after this. He +leapt on Rudd, bore him to the ground, and sat on his head. Foul +language was audible from the bottom of the floor. Rudd had not studied +Euripides for nothing. Lovelace picked up a hockey stick. "This, +gentlemen," he began, "is a hockey stick, useful as an implement of +offence if the prisoner gets above himself, and also useful as a means +of destroying worthless property. I ask you, gentlemen, it is right +that, while we should have only three chairs among two people, Rudd +should have two all to himself? Gentlemen, I propose to destroy that +chair." + +In a few minutes the chair was in fragments. A crowd began to collect. + +"I say, you men," shouted Gordon, "the refuse heap is just opposite; +let's transfer all the waste paper of the last ten years and bury the +offender." + +Just across the passage was a long, blind-alley effect running under the +stairs, which was used as a store for waste paper. It was cleaned out +about once every generation. In a few minutes waste-paper baskets had +been "bagged" from adjoining studies, and No. 14 was about a foot deep +in paper. + +"That table is taking up too much room, Lovelace," Bradford bawled out; +"smash it up." + +The table went to join the chair in the Elysian Fields. Rudd was now +almost entirely immersed in paper. The noise was becoming excessive. +Oaths floated down the passage. + +At last Ferguson moved. In a blasé way he strolled down the passage. For +a minute he was an amused spectator, then he said languidly: "Suppose we +consider the meeting adjourned. I think it's nearly half-time." +Gradually the crowd began to clear; Rudd rose out of the paper like +Venus out of the water. A roar of laughter broke out. + +"Well, Rudd, I sincerely hope you are insured," murmured Ferguson. + +What Rudd said is unprintable. In his bill at the end of the term his +father found there was a charge of ten shillings for damaged property in +Study No. 14. Rudd got less pocket-money the next term. + + * * * * * + +"I say, you fellows, have you heard the latest? 'The Bull' has kicked me +out of the Colts." + +Lovelace came into the changing-room, fuming with rage. There had been a +Colts' trial that afternoon. Buller had cursed furiously and finally +booted Lovelace off the field, with some murmured remarks about "typical +School House slackness." + +"It's damned rot," said Bradford. "Because Simonds has made rather an +ass of himself in the last two matches, Bull thinks the whole House is +slack. He gave Turner six to-day just because he hadn't looked up one +word. I hope he doesn't intend to judge the whole House by Simonds." + +The House was getting fed up with Simonds. It was all very well working +in moderation for scholarships, but when it came to allowing games to +suffer, things were getting serious. Private inclination cannot stand in +the way of the real business of life. And no one would hesitate to own +that he had come to Fernhurst mainly to play footer. + +"But, you know, I don't think 'the Bull's' that sort," Gordon protested; +"he may lose his temper and all that, but I think he's fair." + +"Do you?" said Hunter drily. + +There was a laugh. As a whole, the House was certain that "the Bull" was +against them. + +In a week's time Lovelace was back again in the Colts, and Gordon was +telling his friends what fools they were not to trust "the Bull." + + * * * * * + +Gordon was confirmed this term. He was rather young; but it was +obviously the thing to do, and, as Mansell said: "It's best to take the +oath when you are more or less 'pi,' and there is still some chance of +remaining so. You can't tell what you will be like in a year or so." + +As is the case with most boys, Confirmation had very little effect on +Gordon. He was not an atheist; he accepted Christianity in much the same +way that he accepted the Conservative party. All the best people +believed in it, so it was bound to be all right; but at the same time it +had not the slightest influence over his actions. If he had any religion +at this time it was House football; but for the most part, he lived +merely to enjoy himself, and his pleasures were, on the whole, +innocuous. They very rarely went much beyond ragging Rudd. + +"Do you think," said Gordon, the evening after his first confirmation +address, "that the masters really believe confirmation has any effect on +us? Because you know it doesn't." + +"I don't think it matters very much what masters think," said Hunter; +"most of them here have got into a groove. They believe the things they +ought to believe; they are all copies of the same type. They've clean +forgotten what it was like at school. Hardly any of them really know +boys. They go on happily believing them 'perhaps a little excitable, but +on the whole, perfectly straight and honest.' Then a row comes. They are +horrified. They don't realise all of us are the same. They've made +themselves believe what they want to believe." + +"Yes, and when they are told the truth, they won't believe it," said +Betteridge. "You know, I was reading an article in some paper the other +day, by an assistant master at Winchborough, called Ferrers. He was +cursing the whole system. I showed it to Claremont, just for a rag; told +him I thought it was rather good. The old fool looked at it for some +time, and then said: 'Well, Betteridge, don't form your style on this. +It is very perfervid stuff. Not always grammatical.' All the ass thinks +of is whether plurals agree with singulars; he does not care a damn +whether the material is good." + +"That's it," said Gordon. "Masters try to make you imitate, and not +think for yourself. 'Mould your Latin verses on Vergil, your Greek prose +on Thucydides, your English on Matthew Arnold, but don't think for +yourself. Don't be original.' If anyone big began to think he'd see what +a farce it all is; and then where would all these fossils be? It's all +sham; look at the reports. Bradford gets told he's a good moral +influence. Mansell works hard and deserves his prize. It is hoped that +confirmation will be a help to me. Rot, it all is!" + +"Oh, I'm not so certain confirmation is a farce," broke in Bradford. "If +you don't believe in it, you won't get to heaven." + +"But who the hell wants to get there," said Mansell. "Sing hymns all day +long. I can imagine it. Fancy having Caruthers singing out of tune in +your ear for ever. It's bad enough in chapel once a day. But for +ever----!" + +"My good lads, you don't know what heaven's like," whispered Bradford +confidentially. "Claremont was gassing away about Browning the other +day, and said that he believed that in heaven you could do all the +things you wanted to do on earth! And by Jove I would have a hot +time--some place, heaven!" + +"By Jove, yes; but you know, Bradford, there won't be much left for you +to do in heaven; at the rate you are going you will have done most +things on earth." + +"Oh, I am going to reform, and then I shall write to Claremont and tell +him how I, a wandering sheep, was brought home by his interpretation of +Andrew Dol Portio--I think that's what the thing was called." + +"Of course, that is an idea," said Mansell, "but I am not so sure of +what's going to happen when we're dead. I am going to have a jolly good +time, and then take the risk. I never hedge my bets." + +"Well, you may go on your way to the eternal bonfire," said Bradford, +"but I am for righteousness. Now, listen to this, it's in the book we +have to read for confirmagers, _Daily Lies on the Daily Path_: '... If +you think that in your house things are being talked about that would +shock your mother or sister, don't merely shun it as something vile. It +is your duty to fight against it; reason with the boys. They probably +have some grain of decency left in them. If that fails, report the +matter to your house master. He will take your side. The boys will +probably be expelled, but you will have done your duty, as Solomon says +in Proverbs....' There now, Mansell. I am one of the children of light. +So you know what to expect from me. Shall I reason with you, lad? Have +you a grain of decency left in you, or must I----" + +At this point a well-aimed cushion put an end to the fervour of the new +child of light. Betteridge sat on his head. + +"Look here, Bradford," he began, "you may be a convert and all that, but +don't play John the Baptist in here. It does not pay. Very shortly I +shall carry your head to the dustbin in a saucer. Let me tell you the +story of one Stevenson in Mr Macdonald's house. He was, like you, about +to be confirmed, and was, like you, very full of himself. And being, as +Lovelace, a lover of the race-course, he walked about in his study in +hall, chanting us a dirge out of sheer religious fervour: 'My name is +down for the confirmation stakes.' Macdonald passed the door and, on +hearing him, entered and said: 'Well you are scratched now at any rate! +'Take that to heart, and be not as the seeds that are sown on stony +ground, who spring up in the night and wither in the morning." + +Betteridge intoned the whole lecture. The story was in a way true, but +the Stevenson in question had shouted down the passage: "Hurrah, no +prep. to-night; my name is down for the confirmation stakes." With the +result as above. Gordon burst out: + +"By the way, talking of Macdonald, he made a priceless remark to-day. +Kennedy, that little cove in Christy's, came in late and began +stammering out that it was only a minute or two over time; Macdonald +looked on him for a minute, and then said: 'Your excuse is just about as +good as the woman's who, having had an illegitimate baby, protested that +it was only a small one.'" + +"By Jove, he's some fellow. Now he's a man," said Mansell. "He's a boy +still; he can see our side of the question, and he knows what footling +idiots half of the common room are. If we had more like him." ... + +"And it would be a jolly good thing, too," said Betteridge, "if we could +get a really young master like that Winchborough man, Ferrers, I was +telling you about. He'd stir things up a bit." + +At that moment the Abbey sounded half-past eight. + +"Good Lord," said Hunter, "only quarter of an hour more, and we've done +nothing the whole of hall. Let's rout out Lovelace and go and rag Rudd." + +In three minutes Rudd was under the table, with Mansell seated on his +chest. + +It was rather unfortunate that Gordon should have chosen Tester to have +a study with. Tester was over sixteen, was in the Lower Sixth, and had +got his Seconds at cricket. He was a House blood. Gordon did not care +for him particularly. But he had a good study, No. 1, at the far end of +the lower landing, and Gordon wanted a big study. It was so very fine to +sit chatting to Foster or Collins in one of the small studies for a +little time and then to say suddenly, in a lordly manner: "Oh, look +here, there's no room here at all. Come down to my study, there are +several arm-chairs there!" + +It is always pleasant to appear better than one's equals. But Tester was +a dangerous friend to have at a time when the mind is so open to +impressions. For Tester had not risen to his position on his own merits +alone. Lovelace major had always said he was not much good, and the year +before had not given him his House cap. But Tester was a very great +friend of Stewart's, the captain of the Eleven. Stewart gave him his +Seconds for making twenty against the town, so Meredith had to give him +his House cap. It is a school rule that a "Seconds" must have his House +cap. Tester was not improved by his friendship with Stewart, and the +pity was that he was really clever. He could always argue his case. + +"I never asked to be brought into this world," he said, "I am just +suddenly put here, and told to make the best of things; and I intend to +make the best of things. I am going to do what I like with my life. +Wrong and right are merely relative terms. They change to fit their +environment. Baudelaire would not have been tolerated in the Hampstead +Garden Suburb; Catullus would not have been received in Sparta. But at +Paris and Rome customs were different. We only frame philosophies to +suit our wishes. And I prefer to follow my own inclinations to those of +a sham twentieth-century civilisation." + +Gordon did not like this; but if one lives daily in the company of a man +who is clever and a personality, one is bound to look at life, at times, +at any rate, through his spectacles. Gordon began to look on things +which he once objected to as quite natural and ordinary. + +"I say, Caruthers, I hope you don't mind clearing out of here for a +bit," Tester would say. "Stapleton is coming in for a few minutes. You +quite understand, don't you?" + +As soon as we begin to look on a thing as ordinary and natural, we also +begin to think it is right. After a little Gordon ceased to worry +whether such things were right or wrong. It was silly to quarrel with +existing conditions, especially if they were rather pleasant ones. +Gordon had a study with Tester till the end of the summer. + +One day, towards the end of the Easter term, Gordon asked Tester, rather +shyly, if he would leave him alone a little. "I've often cleared out for +you, you know." + +"Of course, that's quite all right, my dear fellow. Any time you like, I +understand!" Tester smiled as he walked down the passage. + +But during the winter term Gordon worried about little except football; +when he was not playing, he was ragging. Form he looked on as a glorious +recreation. He was learning more than he ever learned afterwards without +making much effort. Macdonald was a scholar; he did not teach people by +making them work, he taught them by making it impossible for them to +forget what he told them. No one who has ever been through the Upper +Fifth at Fernhurst would have the slightest difficulty in writing a +character sketch of any English king, even though he might never have +read a chapter about him. Macdonald made every man in history a living +character; not a sort of rack on which to hang dates and facts. + +Football, however, was not going quite so satisfactorily. Gordon was +never tried for the Colts Fifteen, although he subsequently proved +himself better than most of the other forwards in it, and had to play in +House games every day. Once a week a House game is a thundering good +game, but more often it is one-sided, and for a person who really cares +for footer, such afternoons are very dull. On the Upper or Lower a good +game was certain; the captain of the school always chose sides that +would be fairly level. But House sides were different. Nothing depended +on their results. Sometimes bloods would play, sometimes not; it was a +toss up. And worst of all, Simonds was abominably slack. For a few weeks +the House thought it rather funny, and the smaller members of the House +secretly rejoiced; but the games-loving set waxed furious. + +"Damn it all," said Mansell, "the man's here to coach us, not to sit in +his study sweating up dates!" + +The result of it was that Mansell and his friends got filled with an +enormous sense of their own importance; they considered themselves the +only people in the House who were keen. And they let the rest of the +House know it. They groused about "the great days of Lovelace," and gave +people like Rudd a most godless time. There is no more thoroughly +self-satisfied person than the second-class athlete; and when he also +imagines himself an Isaiah preaching repentance, he wants kicking badly. +Unfortunately no one kicked Gordon or Lovelace; and they went on their +way contented with themselves, though with no one else. + + * * * * * + +One of the easiest ways of discovering a person's social status at +school is by watching his behaviour in the tuck-shop. The tuck-shop or +"Toe," as it is generally called, is a long wooden building with +corrugated iron roof, situated just opposite Buller's house, not far +from the new buildings. It is divided by a wooden partition into two +shops; at each end of the outer shop run two counters. On the right-hand +counter, which is connected with a small kitchen, cakes, muffins and +sausages are sold; on the left-hand side there are sweets and fruit. The +inner and larger room is filled with tables, and round the room are +photographs of all the school teams. At the far end, in huge green +frames, are hung photographs of the two great Fernhurst Fifteens who +went through the season without losing a match. The "Toe" is the +noisiest place in the whole school. It is superintended by five +waitresses, and they have a very poor time of it. + +The real blood is easily recognised. He strolls in as if he had taken a +mortgage on the place, swaggers into the inner room, puts down his books +on the top table in the right-hand corner--only the bloods sit here--and +demands a cup of tea and a macaroon. A special counter has been made by +the bloods' table, so that the great men can order what they want +without going back into the outer shop. No real blood ever makes a noise +in the outer shop. When he is once inside the inner shop, however, he +immediately lets everyone know it. If he sees anyone he knows, he bawls +out: + +"I say, have you prepared this stuff for Christy?" + +The person asked never has. + +"Nor have I. Rot, I call it." + +No blood is ever known to have prepared anything. + +The big man then sits down. If a friend of his is anywhere about, he +flings a lump of sugar at him. When he gets up he knocks over at least +one chair. He then strolls out, observing the same magnificent dignity +in the outer shop. No one can mistake him. + +But the only other person who makes no row in the outer shop is the +small boy, who creeps in, and creeps out, unnoticed. Everyone with any +claim to greatness asserts his presence loudly. The chief figures at +this time were the junior members of Buller's, and especially the two +Hazlitts. Their elder brother was the school winger, and an important +person; but they had done nothing but make a noise during their two +years at Fernhurst. Athleticism had had a disastrous effect on them. +Because their house had won the Thirds, Two Cock and Three Cock, they +thought themselves gods. In the tuck-shop they acted as avenging angels +sent to punish a wicked world. Their chief amusement was to see a person +leaning over a counter, kick his backside when he was not looking, and +then run away. It was their class that were the real nuisance in the +"Toe." They persecuted the girls in charge most damnably. Very often +only one girl was in charge. The younger Hazlitt would at once seat +himself on the other counter and shriek out: + +"Nellie, when are you coming over here? I shall bag these sweets if you +don't buck up." He would then seize a huge glass jar of peppermints, and +roll it along the zinc counter. + +"Oh, Mr Hazlitt, do leave that alone," the wretched Nellie would +implore. But it was no use. When there was a big crowd waiting to be +served, the Hazlitt brethren would take knives and beat on the zinc +counter, shouting out: "Nellie, come here!" They were a thoroughly +objectionable pair. Whenever Mansell saw them, he kicked them hard, and +they got rather frightened of the School House after a bit. + +It is not to be thought, however, that the behaviour of the School House +was exemplary. Mansell usually kicked up an almighty row, but he left +"Nellie" alone. He was not going to lower himself to the Hazlitt level. + +It is an amazing thing that the half-blood very rarely gets into a row; +and yet he always talks as if expulsion hung over his head. Probably he +thinks it draws attention to himself. Mansell would always enter the +shop in exactly the same way; he banged his books on the counter and, +sighting Hunter, fired off at once. + +"I say, look here, give me a con. I am in the hell of a hole. I prepared +the wrong stuff for old Claremont, and the man's getting awfully sick +with me; he may report me to the Chief. Do help me out!" + +"Sorry, old cock," said Hunter, "but I specialise in stinks!" + +"Oh, do you! Well, I suppose I shall have to chance it; that's all. He +may not shove me on." + +The small boys thought Mansell's daring very fine. But strangely +enough, although he was always in a state of fearful agitation, he had +so far singularly managed to avoid getting reported. But still it kept +up appearances to talk a lot. + +Gordon, of course, had to be fairly quiet in the tuck-shop. He was not +yet known among the school in general; and it was only in Buller's that +small boys gave tongue in the tuck-shop. But then Buller's were, in +their own opinion, to the rest of the School as Rome was to Italy. +Fernhurst was merely a province of Buller's. They kept this view to +themselves, however. "The Bull" would have dealt very summarily with +such assumptions. + +And so, when Lovelace and Tester and Mansell were there Gordon was +generally to be found contributing his share to the general disorder, +but when alone, he sat quite quietly with Collins and Foster. He rather +longed for the day when he could start a row all on his own. A strange +ambition for any candidate for immortality! + + * * * * * + +About the middle of the term was the field day at Salisbury Plain. Most +of the Public Schools were present; it was a noble affair from the +general's point of view. The school, however, considered it a putrid +sweat. For hours they pounded over ploughed fields and the day dragged +slowly on to its weary close and two hundred very tired privates at last +fell into a six-fifty train. + +Two days later a notice was brought round by the school _custos_: "Roll +for all those who went to Salisbury Plain on Wednesday in the big +schoolroom at six P.M." There is nothing quite so enjoyable as +the sensation that a big row is on, in which you yourself have no part. +Gordon trembled with excitement. He whispered excitedly to the man on +his left, Lidderdale, a man in Rogers': "What's up?" + +"Oh, nothing much. Some silly ass put his bayonet through a carriage +window. Rogers was gassing about it in the dormitories last night." + +"Oh!" said Gordon. Very disappointedly he returned to his academic +activities. He had had hopes of some splendid row, and after all, it was +only about a silly ass and a bayonet. Rotten! Fancy being made late for +tea because of that. But, as it turned out, his hopes were satisfied. +When he reached the big schoolroom, everything certainly looked most +formal. In front of the big dais where the choir stood during the +concerts sat all the masters in a half-circle. The Chief sat in the +centre. + +"Are they all here, Udal?" the Chief asked the senior sergeant. + +"Yes, sir." + +The Chief rose. + +"I have to address you to-night on a very serious subject. During the +field day last Wednesday, someone in this room disgraced not only his +school, but the King's uniform. An officer from another school has +written to tell me that he overheard two of you talking outside the +canteen in language that would disgrace a costermonger. I sincerely wish +he had taken their names at once. As it is, I do not know their names. +The officer in question said that both boys were over seventeen, and +that the shorter of the two said nothing at all, as far as he could +hear. Now I want the names of both those boys. If they own up to me +to-night, I shall most certainly deal very severely with one at least of +them. If they do not come to me of their own free will, I may be forced +to ask the officer to come down and identify the boys, in which case +both will from that instant cease to be members of Fernhurst School." + +In a state of high excitement the school poured down to tea. + +"I bet it's someone in Christy's," said Bradford. + +Christy believed in leaving his house entirely to his prefects. It was a +good way of avoiding responsibility; but his choice of prefects was not +altogether wise. + +"Do you think the men will own up?" said Gordon. + +"Not unless they're most abandoned fools," replied Lovelace. + +There was only one topic of conversation at tea, and afterwards +Lovelace, Hobson and Gordon discussed the affair keenly in No. 1. They +all agreed that the men would not own up, and the general opinion was +that someone in Christy's was responsible. Discussion raged fiercely as +to who it was. Gordon was all for it being Isaacs, Lovelace for +Everington, Hunter for Mead. The point was being debated, when Tester +and Bradford came in. + +"Hullo, come in," shouted Gordon, "we are having a great fight about +this. I say Isaacs is the most likely man. What do you think?" + +Tester looked round carefully, and then began anxiously: + +"Look here, you men; swear you won't tell a soul if we tell you +something." + +The oath was taken. + +"Well, it's us!" + +There was a hush. "Good Gawd!" said Hunter. Silence ensued; but +curiosity soon overcame surprise. + +"What did you say, by the by?" asked Gordon. + +Tester repeated as far as he could remember the exact words. + +"Yes, you know; it was a bit hot, wasn't it? I expect you opened the +blighter's eyes a bit. He wasn't used to that sort of literature." + +In spite of themselves Tester and Bradford laughed. They had been +vaguely aware of a tired-looking figure in a Sam Browne as they left the +canteen. He had looked "some ass." But Gordon soon became serious again. + +"What are you men going to do? Of course you won't own up." + +"We can't very well. I am in the Sixth and Bradford's had one row this +term, and of course, I was the criminal. I am supposed to be a +responsible personage." + +"Of course, owning up's out of the question." + +"But do you think anything will happen?" Bradford was a little +frightened. "I mean will there be a sort of general inspection?" + +"You bet there won't. When a master begs men to own up, it means that +he's up the spout. It's much more fun catching a fellow red-handed. And, +after all, you two are the last people anyone would think of." + +"Of course, it's all right," said Lovelace; "there's only one thing to +do. You talk of nothing else but this rotten affair; talk about it in +the Toe, in the changing-room, in form, in chapel, if you like. Ask +people you meet if they've owned up. Treat the whole thing as a glorious +rag." + +"Yes," shouted Gordon, "let's go down to Rudd and tell him if he doesn't +own up we'll give him hell." + +And in truth the next half-hour was for Rudd very hell of very hell. His +existence just now was not very pleasant. If he had been good at footer +all his domestic failings would have been forgiven him. But he was not; +he loathed the game, though at times he would have given anything to be +of some use. Strangely enough, at Oxford he found people respected his +brains, and no one hated him because he could not drop goals from the +twenty-five. Life is full of compensations. + +Lovelace and Tester were both supreme actors. That night in the +dormitory they were full of the subject. After lights out, they kept the +whole place in a roar of laughter. Bradford joined in a bit, but he was +still nervous; visions rose up before him of an officer passing down the +ranks, suddenly seizing him, and saying: "This is the man." It was +hardly a ravishing thought; but it was useless to go back on a lie. +Tester realised this. As Ferguson came through he called out: + +"I say, Ferguson, you know you'd better go up to the Chief and tell him +you did it." + +Ferguson was, like the Boy Scout, always prepared. + +"My good man, you don't surely imagine I am so devoid of good feeling +and have such a hazy conception of the higher life as not to inform the +Headmaster. I have just returned from breaking the news to him. He took +it quite well on the whole. It was a touching scene. I nearly wept." + +Betteridge then arose, and gave an imitation of a Rogers' sermon. + +"Well, Ferguson, I must own that I am sorry to lose you. I would give +much to retain you here. But _dis aliter visum_: you must go. You are +expelled. Between the Scylla of over-elation and the Charybdis of +despair you have a long time steered the bark of the School House. But +one failing wipes away many virtues. And we must not discriminate +between the doer and the deed, the actor and the action, the sinner and +the sin. The same punishment for all. But in that paradisal state where +suns sink not nor flowers fade, there will be a sweet reunion." + +It was pure Rogers. The dormitory rocked with laughter. Tester began to +give his impressions of what the officer must have looked like. There +was a heated argument as to whether he was a parson. Mansell thought +not. + +"A fellow who knows his Bible well would not be shocked with a little +swearing. I bet some of the bits in Genesis and Samuel are hotter than +anything the blighter said. It was probably some dotard who reads +Keats." + +This seemed a sound piece of reasoning. + +Next day the rumour spread round the school that a half-holiday was +going to be stopped, as no one had owned up. + +"Safety," said Tester. "That means the chase is given up." + +But the school, which, up to now, had treated the affair as a joke, +began to get annoyed. Tolerance and broadmindedness were all right as +long as their own interests were secure; but when it came to a +half-holiday being stopped because some blighter had not the decency to +own up---- + +"It's a scandal," said Fletcher, in front of the House studies. "First +this blighter does the school a lot of harm by swearing; and then he is +in too much of a funk to own up, and we get in a row for it. Man must be +a colossal swine." + +He forgot that last night he had been treating the whole thing as a +joke. Rogers was passing by up the Headmaster's drive on the way to his +class-room, and overheard this outburst of righteous indignation. His +heart was rejoiced to see such a good moral tone in the school. As he +said in the common room: "It makes one proud to see what a sane, +unprejudiced view the school takes of this unsavoury incident." + +Lovelace now hit on a great plan. "Let's organise a strike. Why should +we go into school to-morrow? If we can get enough to cut, we can't be +punished. Let's canvass." + +The fiery cross of rebellion was flung down the study passages. With +lists of paper in their hands, Hunter, Mansell, Lovelace and Gordon +(Tester thought himself too big a blood for such a proceeding) dashed +into study after study urging their inhabitants to sign on for the great +strike. + +"Come on, you men," Hunter said. "It is the idea of a lifetime. If +enough don't turn up, nothing can happen. You can't sack the whole +school." + +A few bright rebels like Archie Fletcher signed on at once. Rudd, too, +thought it safer to put his name down. But the average person was more +cautious. + +"How many have you got down?" + +"Oh, about fifteen." + +"Well, look here, if you get over fifty I'll join in." + +As nearly everyone said this, the hopes of successful operations seemed +unlikely. + +But still it all helped to disarm any trace of suspicion. + +"I say, Ferguson, what do you think of all this?" said Mansell. + +"I think a great creed has gone down. I shall no longer believe that +conscience and cowardice are synonymous; only conscience is the trade +name of the firm." + +Mansell laughed. It was probably meant to be funny. He never quite +understood Ferguson. On the next afternoon everyone sat down to two +hours' extra school. There was much swearing at tea. But in a day or two +it was all forgotten. + +To this day no one at Fernhurst knows who the two boys were. The secret +was well kept. + + * * * * * + +As the term drew to its close, with the Fifteen filled up and all the +big matches over, interest was centred mainly in House football and +House affairs. Mansell, it is true, was still worrying whether he would +get his Seconds. But Lovelace and Gordon talked of nothing but the +Thirds. The Colts' matches were over, and on House games one of the two +House sides was always a trial Thirds. Edwards, a heavy, clumsy +scrum-half, was captain of the side; Gordon led the scrum. + +"If only we had Armour back as House captain," Hunter used to complain, +"that side couldn't lose." + +"And we sha'n't lose either," said Gordon; "we are going to sweep the +field next term, and we are going to drive the ball over the line +somehow, and God save anyone who gets in the light." + +No House side ever imagines it is going to be beaten. Three Cocks have +been lost by over fifty points; yet on the morning of the match half the +"grovel" would be quite ready to lay heavy odds on their chance of +winning, and whenever there is a good chance of victory, the House is +absolutely cocksure. The result of this is that the House is magnificent +in an uphill fight, but is rather liable to fling away a victory by +carelessness. + +But this side was certainly "pretty hot stuff." It took a lot to stop +Stewart when once he got the ball, and Lovelace was brilliant in attack. +The grovel was light, and was a little inclined to wing, but in the +loose it was a big scoring combination. In the last week of the term +there was a House game on, the Lower _v._ Buller's. Simonds turned out +the Thirds side. It was a terrific fight. Buller's had two Seconds +playing and a House cap; but the House had had the advantage of having +played together. There was, at this time, a good deal of bad blood +between the House and Buller's, and the play was not always quite clean. +There was a good deal of fisting in the scrum. Gordon was in great form; +he scored the first try with a long dribble, and led the pack well. +Lovelace dropped a goal from a mark nearly midway between the +twenty-five and the half-way line. Collins scrambled over the corner +from a line out. Buller's only scored once, when Aspinall, their wing +three, who had his Seconds, got a decent pass, and ran practically the +whole length of the field. Towards the end, however, the light House +grovel got tired and was penned in its own half. "Come on, House," +Gordon yelled. "One more rush; let the swine have it!" The House was +exhausted, it managed to keep Buller's out; but no more. This was an +ominous sign. It had not been a long game. + +"The Bull" had been watching the game. As the players trooped off the +field, he called back Gordon. "Caruthers, here a second. You know, I +don't want to interfere where it's not my business, but I don't think +you should call another house 'swine.' To begin with, it's not the +English idea of sport, and if there's any ill feeling between two houses +in a school, especially the two biggest, it's not good for the school. +Do you see what I mean?" + +"Oh yes, sir. I didn't mean----" + +"Of course you didn't, my dear chap.... By the way; will you be young +enough for the Colts' next year? You will. Good. Then it won't be at all +a bad side. Collins and Foster were quite good; and you played a really +good game." + +"What did 'the Bull' want, Caruthers?" Lovelace asked as Gordon walked +into the changing-room. + +"Oh, nothing much. He didn't like me calling his fellows 'swine.'" + +"But why the devil not? They are swine, aren't they?" + +"Of course they are; but you can hardly expect 'the Bull' to realise +it." + +"No, perhaps not; but, my God, they are the last thing in swine, those +Hazlitts and their crowd." + +The House supper this year was not much, compared with the one of the +year before. Simonds was not an R.D. Lovelace, and Ferguson again spoke +miles above his audience. However, he was a sport, and let them do as +they liked; so they drank his health and sang: _He's a Jolly Good +Fellow!_ Several old boys came down, FitzMorris with an eyeglass and a +wonderful tie; Sandham, as usual, quite insignificant; Armour wearing +the blue waistcoat of a Wadham drinking club. Meredith had been +expected, but at the last moment he had found his debts so much in +excess of a very generous allowance that he would have to retrench a +little. It was a pity; but in the Bullingdon living is not cheap and +Meredith was a great blood. + +The prize-giving this term afforded little comfort to Gordon; he was +easily bottom of V.A. Rather a collapse, but still one has to keep up +with things. It does not do to lose sight of the really important issues +of life, and Gordon had certainly been a social success. He travelled up +to London with Ferguson and Tester, and felt no small part of a giant +when Collins entered their carriage, suddenly saw Ferguson, and with +inaudible apologies vanished quickly down the corridor. Olympus was not +so very far off. + + + + +CHAPTER II: HEALTHY PHILISTINISM + + +During the Christmas holidays there appeared in a certain periodical one +of the usual attacks on the Public School system. It repeated all the +old arguments about keeping abreast of the times, and doing more modern +languages and less classics. The writer had nothing new to say, and, +like most other such attacks, his jeremiad was in an hour or two +forgotten. But at Fernhurst it did have some effect, for it gave Henry +Trundle the idea of forming a special class for French enthusiasts. +Henry Trundle was one of the French masters. He was entirely English, +had won his Blue for golf at Oxford, and had got a Double First. He also +was quite incapable of teaching anything. His form made no pretence of +keeping order; the noise that proceeded from his class-room could be +heard anywhere within a radius of a hundred yards. And yet he was not a +bad fellow; he was a good husband, and his children were very fond of +him. His domestic virtues, however, were sadly lost on Fernhurst, who +looked on him as a general buffoon, a hopeless ass. His class-room was +considered a sort of Y.M.C.A. entertainment hall, where there was +singing and dancing, and a mild check on excessive rioting. + +At the beginning of the new term the Chief announced that in the upper +school one hour every day would be devoted to the study of either +French, maths or Latin. Each boy would choose his subject. Mr Reddon +would superintend the maths, Mr Trundle the French; for Latin each boy +would go to his own form master. To the hard-working, who had prizes +before their eyes, this scheme presented few attractions; as scholars it +would not be to their advantage to miss any classical hours, and French +was useless in scholarships. Macdonald, when he took down the names of +those who were to do Latin, found all those in front staying with him, +and all those behind going elsewhere. Macdonald laughed up his sleeve. + +Indeed Trundle's class-room was filled with the most arrant collection +of frauds that have ever sat together this side of the Inferno. It was +largely a School House gathering. Lovelace was there; Hunter, Mansell, +Gordon, Archie and Collins. Christy's house supplied Dyke, a fine +footballer and a splendid ragger; Claremont's sent two typical dormice +in Forbes and Scobie; Buller's provided no one. Briault hailed from +Rogers. It was his boast that he could imitate any kind of animal from a +dog to a hyena. Benson, the only member of Abercrombie's, was entirely +insignificant, and actually did some work for the first two lessons. But +it was impossible to work long in such surroundings; and tales of the +extra French set are still told in whispers, after lights out, in the +upper dormitories. + +The opening was sensational. No sooner had Trundle taken his seat than +Dyke leapt to his feet, jumped on the desk, jumped off it into the vast +paper basket, upset that, charged up to Trundle, shook him by the hand, +and began to pour out words: "My dear sir, how are you? How is Mrs +Trundle, and the little Trundles? Have you had a pleasant Christmas? I +have, sir. This, sir, is your extra French set. The French set--Mr +Trundle; Mr Trundle--the French set." Amid a beating of desks Dyke +returned to his seat. Trundle was used to this. But he had rather hoped +his new set would be composed for the most part of honest young +scholars. It was a disappointment; still, he had grown used to it. Life +had not been too kind to him. + +"Now, let me see," he began, "who's the senior man here?" + +Immediately everyone except Benson stood up. "I am, sir." + +"But you can't all be the senior." + +"Yes, sir; we are," was the unanimous answer. + +"You see, sir," Gordon explained, "I am the cleverest and should be the +senior, but Mansell there, that dolt with the tie-pin, has been longer +in the school, and he's got his Seconds, and rather fancies himself. +Dyke has taken longer to reach IV. A than anyone else in the school's +history, and thinks that a sufficient claim to be senior. Lovelace, oh, +well, he's--well, I don't know what he is. Lovelace, you swine, what are +you?" + +"Confound you, man!" shouted the enraged three-quarter. "Who the +hell----" + +"Lovelace," broke in Trundle, "I think you may keep your reflections on +the future life till afterwards. We will sit in alphabetical order." + +It is incredible how long it takes for ten boys to change their places. +It was a long process. Books fell to the right and to the left. There +were murmurs of "Damn you, man, that's my grammar!" or "Confound you, +Benson!" "Where the hell is my dictionary?" Twice Benson had been sent +flying into the waste-paper basket; three times had Dyke driven a +compass into the backside of Forbes, who looked like going to sleep. To +crown everything, Briault gave his celebrated imitation of a dog-fight. +Consternation reigned. Lovelace tried to hide under Trundle's desk; +Gordon endeavoured to get through a window that was hardly a foot +square. Macdonald's class-room was just the other side of the V. A +green; he chuckled to himself. "I hoped Caruthers would enjoy himself. I +think we shall have to put him on to construe when he returns. If he +goes to music-hall shows in school time he must pay for it, you know." + +There was an immense scuffling of feet, but much louder rang the noise +of the French students. A question had arisen as to what book they +should read that term. Everyone was shouting the name of his favourite +author. "Let's do _The Little Thing_," yelled Dyke. "No; de Maupassant," +shouted Mansell, adding, in an undertone: "I saw one of his books in a +shop in Villiers Street, looked pretty hot stuff." Then louder again: +"Let's have de Maupassant." "No; _The Black Tulip_," Lovelace implored, +and went on in a stage whisper: "Now don't be silly fools, I have got a +crib of this. Have some sense." "You don't imagine we're going to +prepare the stuff, do you?" was Hunter's retort. Above the uproar +Forbes' voice drawled: "I say, if there's a French translation of _Five +Nights_, let's read that. I know the book pretty well by heart." + +It was ultimately decided to read _six contes_ by François Coppée; but +by the time the decision had been reached, the hour had been exhausted. +Rather sadly Trundle watched the set pour out into the cloister, +shouting and laughing. Even masters have souls. Boys don't realise this. + +Every day till the end of the term that farce continued. Sometimes +Trundle lost his temper. One day, Archie was singing: _Meet me under the +Roses_, while Gordon was giving a lively if inaccurate translation. + +"Fletcher, stop that singing!" + +"Mayn't I sing, sir?" + +"Of course not. This is a class-room." + +"Is it, sir? I thought it was a place of amusement." + +"Fifty lines, Fletcher." + +"But, sir, it is, you know----" + +"One hundred lines, Fletcher." + +"Really, sir----" + +"One hundred and fifty lines, Fletcher." + +Fletcher collapsed. Next morning a magnificent blue envelope, sealed at +every corner, arrived at Mr Trundle's house. It contained a vast +quantity of blank paper. + +"But, sir, I really thought I put in the lines. Hunter, you swine, that +is your fault. Sir, I believe Hunter stole them. He had a big imposition +for the Chief. You dirty dog, Hunter. May I kick him, sir?" + +"No; sit down, Fletcher." + +The lines were never done. + +One day Collins was put on to construe. Of course he had made no attempt +to prepare it. This was at once evident. + +"Collins, have you prepared this?" + +"No, sir." + +"But why not?" + +Collins had seen _Charley's Aunt_ in the holidays. "Ah, why?" was his +laconic answer. + +Trundle foamed with wrath. He snatched a cane from under his desk and +advanced on Collins. The prospective victim leapt back and pointed at +him with theatrical calm: "Look, he is coming at me with cane in hand. +Ha! he comes! he comes! see how he comes." + +Trundle launched a fierce blow at Collins, and only narrowly missed +Benson's eyes. Collins delivered a short lecture on the danger of losing +one's temper. Trundle returned to his desk. + +As the term went on the ragging became more elaborate. At first the set +was content with giving a sort of low comedian, knockabout performance. +But they soon wearied of such things. After all, they were real +artistes. And Archie Fletcher could not bear being ordinary. But still +there was a good deal of sport to be got out of quite common place +manoeuvres. The introduction of electric snuff, for instance, may not +be very original; but it was remarkably successful. + +Trundle had a habit of leaving his mark-book in his desk, and Lovelace +had a key that fitted it. The rest was simple. During evening hall +Hunter and Lovelace got leave to fetch a book from their class-room. +There was no one about. In five minutes Trundle's mark-book was filled +with snuff. Next morning the set assembled. Forbes was asleep, Benson +was furtively looking up a word in his dictionary, the School House +contingent was uncommonly quiet. + +"Well," said Trundle, "who shall we start off with this morning? Let me +see, ah!" he opened his mark-book. + +The roar of laughter was heard the other side of the court. For a full +three minutes Trundle was utterly, gorgeously prostrate with coughing +and sneezing. + +Mansell was very sympathetic. + +"Have you a cold, sir? I hope it's nothing serious, sir. I find the east +wind a little trying myself. Do you ever use Fletcher's cough lozenges? +Very efficacious, sir," he babbled on. + +At last Trundle recovered his wind if not his temper. He glowered at the +form. + +"Fletcher, translate, please." + +Fletcher began. But he did not get very far. Hunter let loose another +wave of snuff. The whole form was now coughing and sneezing certainly +considerably more than was necessary. + +"Next boy who sneezes I shall give a hundred lines to, and report him to +the Headmaster." + +Temporary peace ensued. It is not pleasant to be sent up to the Chief; +and weak masters have not the slightest scruple in doing so. The strong +men need not report. But a man like Archie could not be kept in order +long. He gave vent to a most unpleasant snort. + +"Fletcher, if you do that again I shall have to beat you." + +A slight pause. + +"Please, sir, may I blow my nose if I mayn't sniff?" + +"Yes, Fletcher; don't be stupid." + +Immediately there rose a chorus of "Mayn't we blow our noses, too, sir? +Why should Fletcher be the only one allowed to. It isn't fair." + +Trundle gave way, and the rest of the hour was spent entirely in +coughing, shouting and sneezing. No work was done. But that was no +unusual occurrence in the extra French set. + +This was, of course, the sort of amusement that could be only indulged +in once. It would grow stale a second time. But Briault's idea of fancy +dress was one that presented infinite opportunities and gave full scope +for originality. At first nothing very startling occurred. On a freezing +cold day the whole set would assemble without waistcoats and with their +coats wide open would complain bitterly of the heat; on a warm day they +would go in arrayed as for an Antarctic expedition in wonderful scarves +and huge gloves. + +"It's disgraceful, sir, how cold this room is," Gordon complained. "I am +very sensitive to cold, and there are two windows open. They must be +shut." + +"Well, Caruthers, if you find this room too cold," replied Trundle +sarcastically, "you may return to the warmth of your own study and write +me out the lesson ten times. Do you prefer that?" + +Trundle thought that rather smart, but Gordon was never beaten. + +"Sir, I do prefer an unfairly long imposition to an attack of +pneumonia," and with that he sailed out of the room; the "impot" was, of +course, never done. Only Benson did things for Trundle. + +From this day on to discover a new kind of dress was the aim of Archie's +life. What he advised the form always copied. One day the Chief gave out +an order that, owing to the extreme cold, woollen waistcoats would be +allowed, provided they were of a quiet colour. That night Archie +searched the studies. For sixpence he purchased from a new boy a +threadbare carpet that had not been brushed or cleaned for generations. +This he cut up into six parts, and each School House member of the set +somehow or other made for himself a waistcoat out of them. Next day, +garbed in these, they rolled sedately to Trundle's, their coats flung +open, their hands in their trouser pockets. + +Trundle sat speechless. At last he found words. + +"What is the meaning of this confounded impertinence? Collins, Mansell, +Caruthers, Hunter, Lovelace, and you Fletcher, take off that filthy +stuff." + +"That stuff, sir," drawled out Forbes. "What stuff?" + +"Don't interfere, Forbes," rapped out Trundle. "Take them off, I say." + +"Oh, do you mean our waistcoats, sir?" asked Hunter, in superbly feigned +surprise. "We couldn't take them off; we should catch a cold. The +Headmaster has just given out a notice about them. He said we could wear +them." + +"He never gave you permission to garb yourselves in the refuse of the +neighbourhood." + +"Refuse?" said Forbes. "Those waistcoats are of a most fashionable cut. +It's extremely hard to get that particular brand of cloth; my brother, +who is a member of the Bullingdon, told me----" + +"I don't want to know anything about your brother, Forbes. Take off +those things. The Headmaster would never allow them." + +"But, sir," insisted Archie. "He only said that they must be of a quiet +colour, and they are of a quiet colour, aren't they, sir?" + +In truth they were. There was not a trace of colour visible anywhere. +Trundle gave in. He murmured something about asking the Headmaster, and +then put on Archie to con. He never asked the Chief; and there was no +need for him to do so. It is not pleasant wearing dust-laden carpets for +an hour. Such jests can only be undertaken at rare intervals. + +But the culminating point was not reached till the last Thursday of the +term. It was boat-race day, and the set unanimously backed Oxford. At +ten o'clock the set was due to appear. But when Trundle arrived all he +found was Benson, who was in nervous apprehension lest he should have +come to the wrong room. If he had, he might lose some marks; and marks +were more to him than many boundaries. He smiled happily at Trundle. + +"Ah, where are the rest, Benson?" + +"I don't know, sir." + +"Oh, well, I suppose we must wait, but it is a great nuisance. I wanted +to finish the book to-day, it's our last lesson, you know." + +The next day was Good Friday. + +For ten minutes they sat in silence. It takes a long time to prepare a +big rag; the curtain very seldom goes up punctually on the first night; +and there had been no dress rehearsal. There was a sound of scuffling +from the door in the cloister which led into the School House studies. +Then came the tread of measured feet. The door opened, and the great +procession entered. + +At the head was Gordon in Ferguson's dressing-gown (a great white +confection with pale pink frogs) with a white Colts' cap on his head; he +beat time with a small swagger cane. Then came the trumpeters, Crosbie +and Forbes, who were producing strange harmonies on two pipes that they +had bagged from the armoury. Behind them Mansell walked in corps clothes +and a Second Fifteen cap. He was chanting a low dirge. On each side of +him marched the choristers, Lovelace and Hunter, in white sheets and +enormous psalters that they had borrowed from the chapel. They also sang +in a strange outlandish tongue. But the _pièce de resistance_ was the +banner. It consisted of a long piece of white calico on which was +inscribed in red ink: "Up, Up, Oxford. Down with the Cantabs." (Trundle +hailed from Emmanuel.) It was fastened at each end to a hockey stick, +and Fletcher and Collins bore it in solemnly. In the rear, Briault gave +his impressions of a cow being ill. Dyke was the showman. + +"I will now present, gentlemen," he began, "my circus of touring +artistes, who are raising a fund for the endowment of the Oxford boating +club. I must beg you all----" + +But Trundle cut short the oration. Seizing a cane, he rushed into the +cavalcade of Isis, and smote out full lustily. Pandemonium broke forth. +No battle-field was more rich in groans; no revue chorus produced so +much noise. It took a quarter of an hour to obtain quiet. But at last a +motley crowd sat down to study François Coppée. + +And then came the _dénouement_. It was entirely unexpected and entirely +unrehearsed. There was a knock outside. The door opened and an amazing +apparition appeared on the threshold. Betteridge was in the Sixth. Very +enviously the night before he had listened to the preparations and plans +of the extra French set; cursing inwardly, he had sat down at ten +o'clock to do prose with the Chief. Faintly across the court were borne +the sounds of strife. He groaned within him. Suddenly the Chief stood +up. + +"I find I shall have to leave you for a little. Some parents are coming +to interview me. I want you all to return quietly to your studies, and +continue the prose there." + +Joyfully the Sixth trooped out. Betteridge rushed across the courts to +Trundle's class-room. For a second he listened outside, then a great +idea struck him. There was still half-an-hour left. Madly he tore up to +the dormitories. Luckily they were not locked. Five minutes later he +appeared before Mr Henry Trundle entirely changed. He had on a very +light brown suit, a pair of check spats, a rainbow-coloured waistcoat, a +heliotrope bow tie; a bowler was balanced on his head at an angle of +forty-five degrees, a camera was slung round his neck, in his hand he +had a notebook and pencil. + +"Mr Trundle, I believe," he said. "I am the reporter of _The Fernhurst +Gazette_. We have received a wire that there has been a great pro-Oxford +demonstration in here, and we want to get an account of it in the stop +press news before our sister journal, _The Western Evening Transcript_. +Can you give me some notes?" + +As he stopped, the set, that had remained spellbound, burst into a +hilarious shriek of joy. Everyone heard it; even Claremont woke up and +asked what it was. Arthur, the school _custos_, talks of it to this day. + +And at this point the Chief comes into the story. He was showing the +parents in question round the studies when he heard an uproar proceeding +from somewhere near the cloisters. He excused himself from the parents, +ran downstairs, and tracked the noise to Trundle's class-room. He +entered. Never before had he seen disorder on such a generous scale. He +looked round. + +"Mr Trundle--er--what er--set is this?" + +"The extra French set, Headmaster." + +The Chief half smiled. He walked out without another word. + +Next term there was no extra French set. + +The ragging of Trundle, however, was merely regarded relaxation from the +serious business of life. In an Easter term football is the only thing +that any respectable man will really worry about. And Gordon, judged on +these grounds, and his friends with him, would most certainly pass into +the most select society circle. The Thirds this year was a terribly +perplexing problem. Simonds had not taken enough trouble with his +juniors the term before. This term he was working hard enough, but it +was a bit late in the day to begin. On the first Saturday of the term a +scratch side took sixty-five points off the prospective Thirds side. + +"If you play as badly as that on the day you'll lose by forty points," +growled Simonds, "and you'll damned well deserve a beating, too." + +"Curse the man," muttered Lovelace. "Whose bloody fault is it but his, I +should like to know? He is a disgrace to the House, working for some +rotten scholarship when he ought to be training on our juniors. Rotten +swine." + +"Well, he's pretty well all right this term, at any rate," said Gordon. +"For the Lord's sake don't go grousing about; or we sha'n't keep the +score under eighty, let alone ninety. If we lose, we lose; and, my God, +we'll make 'em play for it." + +The side certainly tried hard, and Simonds did his best, but all the +same, on the day of the match, Buller's were backing their chances of +running up a score of over thirty points at three to one. + +"The swine!" said Gordon. "Swanking it about how they are going to lick +us to bits. My word, I would give something to smash them to +smithereens. I have taken on a bet with every man in Buller's whom I +found offering long odds. I stand to win quite a lot. And I shall win +it." + +"God's truth," said Mansell, "do they think there's no guts left in the +House at all? They may go gassing about the number of Colts' badges they +have got, but they are not used to our way of playing. We go for the +ball, and if a man's in the light we knock him out of it. School House +footer is not pretty to look at; but it's the real thing, not a sort of +nursery affair. We go in to win." + +Just before lunch a typical telegram from Meredith was pinned up on the +House board: + + "Go it House. And give them ----" + +The blank was left to the imagination. The House remembered Meredith and +filled it in accordingly. + +Nothing is more horrible than the morning before a first House match. +Gordon woke happy and expectant, but by break he had begun to feel a +little shivery, and at lunch-time he was done to the world. He ate +nothing, answered questions in vague monosyllables, and smiled half +nervously at everyone in general. He was suffering from the worst kind +of stage fright. And after all, to play in an important match before the +whole school is a fairly terrifying experience. As he sat trembling in +the pavilion, waiting for the whistle to blow, Gordon would have +welcomed any form of death, anything to save him from the ordeal before +him. The whistle blew at last. As he walked out from the pavilion in his +magenta-and-black jersey, an unspeakable terror gripped him; his knees +became very weak; his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth, and then +something seemed to snap in his brain. He walked on quite cheerfully. He +was as a spectator. It seemed that it was not really he, but his ghost +that was walking on to the field. Subconsciously he lined up with the +rest. The School side in their white jerseys, the Colts with their red +dragons, seemed miles away. Collins kicked off. Gordon did not know he +was playing. A roar of "House" rose from the touch-line. Involuntarily +he joined it, thinking himself a looker-on, then suddenly Livingstone, +the Buller's inside three-quarter, caught the ball and ran towards him. +At once Gordon was himself. He forgot the crowd on the touch-line, +forgot his nervousness, forgot everything except that he was playing for +the House, and somehow or other had to drive the ball over that line. He +crashed into Livingstone, and the pair rolled into touch. A cheer +rippled down the line. Gordon did not hear it. + +_The Fernhurstian_ described this match as "perhaps the finest ever +witnessed on the School ground," and the reporter was not far wrong. +Certainly that first mad rush of the House forwards was the most +glorious moment in Gordon's football career. It was all so unexpected, +so essentially wonderful. On the touch-line Mansell shouted himself +hoarse. The cries of "House" completely drowned those of "School." For +the first quarter of an hour the School pack never got the ball out of +their half. It seemed that the House must score. Time after time, the +School were forced to touch down. Stewart was brought down just the +wrong side of the line. Lovelace performed prodigies of valour. A gloom +descended over Buller's. On the Masters' side of the line "the Bull" +fumed and ground his teeth: "Go low, Reice, you stinking little funk. +Get round, forwards, and shove; you are slacking, the lot of you. Buck +up, Philson." Up and down he stamped, cursing at his men. Lovelace could +hardly refrain from laughing. + +"Now, lads," shouted Stewart, "fair or foul; shove the ball over the +line!" Like a sledge-hammer Gordon crashed into the scrum. Wilkinson was +in his light, but Gordon was seeing red, his feet stamped on Wilkinson, +and found the ball. His elbows swung viciously, as he cut his way +through the scrum. Then someone caught him by the ankle. He went down +hard. A boot caught him on the side of the head. He got up blind with +wrath. "Fight! Fight!" he yelled. The House grovel swarmed in; the +outhouse pack shivered for a moment, then gave way. Collins and Gordon +burst through, the ball at their toes; Wilkinson dashed across and dived +for the ball; he clawed it for a second, Gordon's feet smashed it from +his hands, and Collins steered it past the back, and kicked it just over +the line and fell on top of it. + +From the touch-line there burst a roar that must have been heard five +miles away. "Well done, laddie!" bawled Mansell. Even Ferguson waved his +stick in the air. It was a great moment. + +As the School lined up behind their line, "the Bull" strode behind them. +"What are you doing? Put some life into your game. Buck up, all of you; +it is a filthy show. Guts!" + +Lovelace took the kick. It was far out: the ball hardly rose from the +ground. In a state of feverish panic Livingstone dropped out. For a +second or two the School pressed. But it was impossible to withstand the +wild attack of the House for long. Collins, elated by his success, +brought off a magnificent dribble, and was forced into touch only a few +yards from the line. Half-time was not far off. And the House struggled +fiercely to get over the line once more. Up and down between the goal +line and the twenty-five the two scrums fought. It seemed only a matter +of time for another try to send the House across with a lead of six +points; but there is as much luck in rugger as in any game. The House +had heeled perfectly, Foster cut past one man, and passed out to +Richards. A roar of "House!" went up. A try was imminent, Richards +passed to Lovelace. But Livingstone was one of those three-quarters who +will miss an easy kick one minute and bring off a superb collar the +next. As Richards passed, he dashed between him and Lovelace, +intercepted the pass, and raced up the field. Collins caught him only a +foot away from the line, and from the line out Grienburg, a heavy Buller +forward, caught the ball and fell over the line by the flag, just as the +whistle was about to blow for half-time. It was very far out, and the +kick failed. The sides crossed over 3-3. + +Simonds came on during the interval almost incoherent with excitement. +"Splendid, you fellows! Magnificent! Never saw anything like it. Stick +to it and you're bound to win. Simply putrid luck that last try ... keep +it up!" + +On the touch-line there was no doubt as to the final result. "We shall +walk away with the Cup," said Mansell, and in a far corner Jones-Evans +was laying ten to one on the House in muffins. But a bit of good luck is +capable of making a side play in a totally different spirit, and the +combined Buller's and Claremont's side started off like a whirlwind. +Livingstone kicked off, and the outhouse scrum was on the ball in a +minute. For a second the House pack was swept off its feet, and during +that second Fitzgerald had dribbled to within ten yards of the line. +Foster made a splendid effort to stay the rush, and flung himself on the +very feet of the opposing forwards. But the check was only momentary; +the forwards rolled on, and it was only on the very line that Lovelace +rushed across, and falling on the ball, held it to him, till the House +forwards had time to come round. But the rules lay down that a player, +as soon as he has fallen on the ball, must get off it at once. Lovelace +realised that if he did so, a try would be inevitable. He hung on like +grim death, praying that the referee would not see. Before half the +House forwards had formed round, the whistle blew. + +"Free kick to the School. You musn't lie on the ball like that, +Lovelace." The referee was not blind. + +Anxiously the House lined up and waited for the kick. Livingstone had +converted nearly every goal on the Colts' games the term before. It was +a trying moment. He seemed to take hours placing the ball correctly. +There was an absolute hush as he ran up; then a great sigh, half of +relief, half of disappointment, burst from the touch-line. The ball rose +hardly six feet from the ground, and sailed harmlessly towards the +School House line. And then Turner made a mistake that he cursed himself +for ever afterwards. All that was necessary to do was to let the ball +bounce, and then touch down. But as the ball sailed towards him, Turner +was suddenly possessed with the longing to do something brilliant. He +was last man on the list, and had only been put into the side at the +last moment, owing to another forward stopping out. It was not +unnatural. He caught the ball. + +"You blasted fool," yelled out Richards, "for God's sake find touch." + +Turner lost his head. He gave a mild punt down field, and before the +House had realised what was happening, Wilkinson had caught the ball, +and dashed over the line between the posts. This time Livingstone made +no mistake. 8-3. + +For the next five minutes the House side was entirely demoralised. +Nothing went right. The forwards did not keep together. Gordon cursed +foully, and only made matters worse. Lovelace's kicks only found touch a +few feet down the line. Richards rushed up and down fuming, and upset +everyone. It was due only to a miracle and some fine work by Foster that +the School did not score at least three times. Foster did everything +during those awful minutes. Rush after rush he stopped, just as +Fitzgerald was looking dangerous, and he brought down his fly-half +every time. Gordon was amazed at his performance; he had always rather +looked down on him before. He had never imagined he was so plucky. + +But it takes more than two unexpected tries to throw a School House side +off its balance for long. Soon the forwards began to reassert +themselves. Burgess the wing three-quarter, a self-satisfied member of +Buller's, who was in VI. B, and whose conceit far excelled his +performances, got away and began to look dangerous. But Gordon came up +behind him. He loathed Burgess, and flinging aside all the Fernhurst +traditions about collaring low, he leapt in the air, and crashed on top +of him. Burgess collapsed like paper. A great howl went up from the +School House. New life seemed to enter into the side. The grovel flocked +round, and Collins, heaving Burgess off the ball with a flying kick, +dribbled the ball to the half-way line. A scrum formed up and from the +heel Richards got the ball to Lovelace, who broke through the defence +and with a clear field ahead made for the line. + +"Run like hell!" shouted Simonds from the touch-line. He was standing on +the masters' side of the ground, just in front of the Chief's wife. But +he was past caring about social etiquette. All he wanted was to see the +House ahead once more. "Faster, man, run--oh, damn!" + +Just on the line the ubiquitous Livingstone caught him up, and the pair +rolled into touch. If, as some say, there is nothing much finer to watch +in football than an uphill fight, then the Thirds of 1913 was most +certainly the greatest game ever played on the Lower. Lighter and slower +than their opponents, the House kept them on the defensive for the rest +of the afternoon. Collins was a splendid sight, his hair fell in a +cascade over his eyes, his nose was bleeding, his jersey was torn half +off his back, but he did not care. His feet were everywhere, and anyone +who got in his light was sorry for it. Turner, with the thought that he +was the cause of Wilkinson's try, fought heroically. Once when +Williamson, a Claremont's forward, began to dribble, he rushed into him +sideways and with a "soccerbarge" knocked him flying into touch, and +took the ball back inside the twenty-five. It was a great fight. But no +one can strive successfully against the will of the gods, and certainly +the stars in their courses fought against the House. Ten minutes before +time Livingstone, who had been systematically starved the whole game, +got a pass about the half-way line. He was the fastest man in the field. +No one could touch him; he made straight for the corner flag, and scored +amid the tumultuous applause of Buller's. There could be no doubt about +the result now. Before the eyes of Jones-Evans there rose a prospect of +eternally treating outhouse men to muffins. Mansell swore violently. +"The Bull" walked up and down the touch-line beaming with delight. +Simonds was silent. + +"Well, you men," said Richards, "we've been beaten, but by heaven we'll +shove them the last few minutes. Go for them, tooth and nail." + +The House did so. In hall that night Burgess announced that there was +not a single gentleman in the School House, a remark which resulted in a +rather unpleasant half-hour with "the Bull" two days later. For these +last minutes produced one of the most glorious charges of the day. From +the twenty-five right in to the School half, the ball was carried. +Nothing could stop that wild rush. Livingstone and Wilkinson went down +before it, but they were passed by. Burgess made a half-hearted attempt +to fall on the ball, but did not get up for several seconds, and the +House was well in the School half when Gordon kicked a little too hard +and the School back, fielding the ball, managed to find touch. But the +House was still undaunted. From the line out, the ball was flung to +Richards, who, putting his head down, literally fought his way through +the scrum and tottered out the other side. He handed off Wilkinson, +dodged the fly-half, and made for the centre of the ground. Livingstone +came across at him. "With you, Richards," yelled Lovelace. + +As Livingstone brought Richards crashing to the ground, the ball was +safely in Lovelace's hands. Lovelace was about half-way between +mid-field and the twenty-five. He ran a few yards, steadied himself, and +took a drop. + +In deadly silence the School watched the flight of the ball. It sailed +high and straight towards the goal. "It's over," murmured the Chief +excitedly. But as the ball neared the posts it travelled slower, a +slight breeze caught it, blew it over to the right. It hit the right +post and fell back into play. As the full-back returned it to mid-field +the whistle blew for no-side. + +"School, three cheers for the House!" shouted Livingstone. + +"House, three cheers for the School!" responded Richards. + +And then everyone poured over the ropes on to the field. + +"Never mind, you men," said Simonds; "it was a damned fine show and +better than fifty wins." + +The House was proud of its side. As the Fifteen trooped across the +courts on the way to the changing-room the House lined up by the chains +of the Sixth Form green, and cheered them. + +"Well played, Caruthers!" shouted someone. + +It was Gordon's first taste of real success. + +That night there was a big feed in No. 19. They were all out of training +for three days; and they made the most of it. During the last fortnight +they had been allowed only fruit between meals. + +"It's the finest performance since I've been in the House," Mansell +declared. "Meredith's Two Cock wasn't in it. Their side was twice as +strong on paper, and my Lord, we gave it them." + +"Yes," said Lovelace, "and you wait till this side is the Three Cock; +there'll be a bit of a change then." + +"You're right there," shouted Mansell. "We sha'n't pull it off this +year, nor the year after that; but you wait and see what'll happen in +1915. That's the year when the House will revive the great days of Ross. +My lads, we sha'n't regret the lean years when the years of plenty come; +and the Three Cock Cup is back on the old oak sideboard. Our day will +come." + +That night Gordon dreamt of the great future that was opening out for +the House; and he was thankful that he would see it. Like the runners in +the torch race many would have prepared the way for victory; but it was +to him and his friends that the glory of the final triumph would belong. +For he would win the race: he would carry home the torch. + + + + +CHAPTER III: TIN GODS + + +After this match a new phase in Gordon's life may be said to have begun. +He had for the first time felt what it was to be really successful. When +he had got his Colts' cap the world had seemed at his feet; but it was +nothing to what he experienced now. For he had borne the brunt of the +House's battle. He had played a principal part in a wonderful +achievement. The House looked on him as one of its chosen defenders. He +was in the limelight, and he had no intention of ever drifting out of +it. When we have experienced the really great, the things that pleased +once charm no more. After basking in the blaze of a summer afternoon +there is something poignantly pathetic in watching the amber beams of a +December sun filter through the trees. Gordon had his fingers on the +pedestal of fame, and he intended never to loose his grasp. His position +had been obtained by brilliant football, and if he had been able to +retain it in the same way all would have been well. But the gods willed +it otherwise. + +It was generally admitted that the House stood no chance of winning the +Two Cock, and when the House agreed on its own defeat, prospects were +certainly very gloomy. So Gordon only interested himself in his own +performances. He began to wonder if there was any chance of his getting +a place in the Three Cock. Simonds was undoubtedly pleased with him, and +Henry, the only forward senior to him, had been doing rather badly +lately. In the trial games he played with a mad enthusiasm. On the +Friday evening the Two Cock side was posted. He was above Lovelace and +Richards. Henry was only one above him. + +Just before lunch on the day of the match Mansell came up to him. + +"I say, I have got some good news for you." + +"What is it?" Gordon was feverish with impatience. + +"Well, I don't think I had better tell you." + +"Oh, I say, do; don't be a swine." + +"No, I don't think I shall; it would make you too bucked with life." +Mansell smiled at him kindly. Gordon was rather annoyed. + +But on the way down to hall, he overheard Mansell talking to Tester in +the door of the changing-room. + +"Simonds is going to play Caruthers in the Three Cock instead of Henry, +if he plays at all decently to-day," Mansell was saying. + +"Oh, I am glad of that," Tester answered. "He's a good kid." + +The earth swayed dizzily as Gordon made his way down to hall. He did not +feel at all nervous. He was quite certain of himself. The day was bound +to end with him a member of the House Fifteen. All he had to do was to +play his average game. Mansell had said so. + +As he stepped on to the field, he was perfectly aware of his own +personality. He did not feel a sort of spectator, as he had done in the +Thirds. It was all so clear. He even smiled at Tester as he lined up. + +But a Two Cock is very different from a Thirds. Men from Christy's were +playing who were shining lights on Senior Leagues, and who would easily +have got their Seconds if they had tried, but who, because they were in +Christy's, did not take the trouble. Christy's should have beaten +Buller's, but they were too slack to go into proper training, and in +spite of the brilliance of Dyke and Pemberton, Buller's won by six +points after being ten points behind at half-time. As individuals, +however, Christy's were a formidable lot, and when combined with +Buller's formed a much heavier and larger side than any Gordon had +played against before. He was not very large, and was used to Junior +Leagues. For an hour he was swept off his feet. He could not keep pace +with the game. He was flung from one position into another; he followed +after the scrum; he felt like a new boy playing for the first time. At +half-time Simonds came up thoroughly fed up with life. The score was +fifteen-nothing. + +"For heaven's sake, Caruthers, get in and shove, if you can't do +anything better. You haven't done a thing the whole game." + +The game was a nightmare. Mansell looked at him curiously that evening +at tea. + +Gordon muttered something about a kick on the head, and being unable to +see anything. + +On Sunday evening a list of those in training for the Three Cock was put +up. There were ten forwards down. Gordon was bottom on the list; both +Henry and Collins were above him. In the football world his claim to +fame for the moment faded away. If he was to remain in the public gaze, +he would have to attract attention some other way. + +And so, at the most critical point in the development of his character, +Gordon began all unconsciously to seek for new ways of making himself +conspicuous. He did not know what he was doing. If someone had told him +that he was doing absurd things merely to get talked about, he would +have laughed. But all the same, it would have been true. His preparatory +schoolmaster said of him once: "There is some danger of his becoming the +school buffoon." At his prep, the boys were too closely looked after and +kept down for any one person to become pre-eminent at anything. And so a +subconscious love of notoriety drove Gordon on to play the fool for a +whole term most damnably. + +It was during the end of the Easter and the whole of the summer term +that Gordon earned a reputation for reckless bravado and disregard of +all authority that stuck to him through his whole career. Up till now he +had done things merely because he had wanted to. He followed the +inclination of the moment, but now it was different. It is pleasant to +be talked of as a mixture between Don Juan and Puck; and Gordon was +sufficiently good at games to make himself an attractive and not a +repulsive figure. The Public School boy admires the Meredith type; he +despises the man who is no good at games, and who plays fast and loose +in his house. Gordon was not unpopular, and indeed some of his escapades +were really funny, as, for instance, when he cut through the string of +the chapel organ on which a weight is attached to show whether the organ +is full of air or not. The next morning in chapel the choir began but +the organ was mute. The hymn broke off into a miserable wail. The whole +service was one silent ripple of merriment. Rogers was taking the +service, and was quite at sea without the help of music. Gordon earned a +considerable measure of notoriety for the performance. On his way to the +tuck shop, Ben, the captain of the Fifteen, came up and spoke to him. + +"Caruthers, I say, are you the man who made the organ mute?" + +"Yes." + +"By Jove, you are a sportsman." + +Gordon was thus encouraged to continue on his road to buffoonery, and +when the summer term came, he found no reason to pursue any other +course. On the cricket field he could not get a run; first he hit +wildly, then he began to poke; but all without the least success. After +a few weeks he almost ceased to try, except in House matches. "The Bull" +got furious. + +"Look here, Caruthers," he said, "I don't know if you are slack, or +merely incompetent. But when I see you make fifty against my house in a +Junior House match, and then play inside half-volleys on the upper, I +begin to think all you care about is your house. Don't you care for +Fernhurst, boy?" + +Gordon was genuinely worried about this. He admired "the Bull" +immensely: indeed, "the Bull" was about the only person at Fernhurst +whose opinion he valued at all. He made strenuous efforts to get runs, +but it was no use. He was clean out of form. His fifty _v._ Buller's was +his only score during the season, but "the Bull" did not know this. He +thought Caruthers tried for his house and slacked with the Colts. The +climax was reached during the Milton Match. Gordon went in first with +Foster. In five minutes he and Lovelace and a man from Claremont's were +out for four runs. "The Bull" chewed grass in a far corner of the field. + +And then, to crown everything, Gordon missed the easiest of catches. He +caught Lovelace's eye. It was really rather funny. The two of them burst +into sudden laughter. Lovelace was nearly doubled up. "The Bull" thought +they were laughing at him. + +"I can't think what's gone wrong with Caruthers this term," he said to +Fry, the captain of the School House. "He was so promising once; he +doesn't seem to be trying this term." + +Next day Gordon was left out of the Colts' side. The day after the chair +in Trundle's class-room suddenly collapsed. The leg had been sawn half +through, and Trundle fell over on the floor. + +Gordon was riding for a fall, and two days before Commemoration, to use +his own phrase, he "fairly put his foot in it." This term he had a +double dormitory with one Davenport, a scholar who was a year junior to +Gordon; but was in the same form. The Chief had thought Gordon a bit big +for the Nursery, but there was no room for him down below; so he and +Davenport lived at the end of the passage in glorious isolation. It was +a great luxury; they were allowed several privileges; they could keep +their light on till ten; they could go to bed when they liked, and it +was here that they usually did their preparation. Davenport, however, +suddenly contracted measles; and Gordon, who had grown too slack to do +his work alone, used to get leave for Sydenham, a rather insignificant, +self-righteous member of V. A, who had come a term before him, to come +and prepare his work in the double room. Leave was always granted, and +when Davenport returned, the scheme was still continued. On this +particular night, Davenport had got a headache. He said he was going to +stop out next day, and refused to prepare Thucydides. It also happened +that the House tutor was away that night, and so the Chief went round +the dormitories, putting out the lights. He did not know of the custom +by which Sydenham came up to do the con. He was not very pleased, but +after a little hesitation gave leave. The door was shut. Sydenham +perched himself on the chest of drawers, Gordon produced an aid to quick +translation, Davenport turned over the pages of _Nash's_. The Abbey +bells also happened to be ringing that night. It was quite impossible to +hear any normal sound down the passage; and so Gordon was quite unaware +of the Chief's intention to revisit them and see if they were really +working, till the door opened and the Chief walked in. Gordon lost his +head; he sat up in bed and gaped. Thucydides lay on one side of the bed, +the crib on the other. + +The Chief picked up the book. + +"Ah, does Mr Macdonald allow you to use this?" + +In the really dramatic moments of our lives it is always the inane that +first suggests itself. It was so likely that Macdonald would have given +them permission. + +"No, sir." + +"Er, Davenport, are you preparing--er yes, Thucydides with Caruthers, +too?" + +"No, sir." Davenport thanked heaven that he had a headache. He had +helped in the work of deceit every night the whole term. The Chief +thought he must be a boy of strong moral courage; and in many ways he +was, but cribbing, after all, was part of the daily routine. + +The Chief took up the book. + +"Sydenham, go back to your study." + +He turned down the light and went out. His footsteps died out down the +passage. + +"Damn!" said Gordon. + +"_In excelsis gloria_," said Davenport. + +"And it was a rotten crib, too," said Gordon. + +By next morning the story was all round the school. + +"You will be birched for certain," was Tester's cheerful comment, "and +serve you right for getting caught." + +"I sha'n't be such a fool again," growled Caruthers. + +And certainly he profited by his experience. A year later the House +Tutor came into his study when he was preparing Vergil with the aid of +Dr Giles' text. He put a piece of blotting-paper over the crib, and +chatted for a few minutes quite easily about the chances of the Eleven +_v._ Tonford. + +But when we are in trouble, there are few of us who can see so far ahead +as to feel thankful at the thought that we have learnt something that +will be a help to us in the future. Gordon was thoroughly fed up. But it +was not his game to show his feelings. He went about laughing as though +nothing had happened at all; he treated the whole thing as a colossal +joke. Sydenham was, however, very nervous, and showed it. Gordon ragged +him mercilessly. + +"My good man, what the hell does it matter? Chief's not much of a +bircher, and don't gas about disgrace, and such muck. This isn't a St +Winifred's sort of school. It will only mean a bad report." + +In School that day Gordon was in great form. By the end of the morning +he had accumulated in all three hundred lines from various sources for +ragging. + +"That man, Caruthers, is some fellow," said Ferguson to Simonds at +lunch. "He looks as if he enjoyed being in rows." + +"Perhaps he does," was the answer. "He is certainly always doing his +best to get into them. But he is in for a birching this time." + +But Simonds was wrong. The Chief was too utterly fed up to do anything; +moreover, he saw that a birching would do Gordon no good. He would only +boast about it. + +It was not until a week later that Gordon was called up before the +Chief. + +"Caruthers, I want to know where you got hold of that crib." + +As a matter of fact he had obtained it by means of Rudd, who had a large +stock of such articles, and let them out on loan for the term. It was a +paying business. Gordon, of course, could not divulge this. + +"I got it in the holidays, sir." + +The Chief was surprised and shocked at this. He could quite easily +understood that a boy should buy a crib at some second-hand bookshop in +the town, during term time, when surrounded with the general atmosphere +of Public School dishonesty; but it did seem unnatural that a boy, while +living in the clean surroundings of his home, should be scheming to +cheat his fellows and masters. The Chief said as much; Gordon did not +quite follow him. Besides everyone cribbed. + +"What I can't understand, Caruthers," the Chief went on, "is that you +always assume a tremendous keenness on the School and House, of which +you give absolutely no proof in your actions except on the field. This +is the second time I have had to speak to you on this subject. Do you +imagine that the good reputation of the House depends solely on its +performance in the Thirds, or that of the School on its number of +victories in School matches?" + +Gordon thought it did. But he knew that "Yes" was hardly the answer the +Chief expected. He held his peace. It was no use arguing the subject. + +When he came out of the study, he met Rudd palpitating with funk. + +"You didn't say anything about my lending you that crib, did you?" Rudd +was very frightened of the Chief. + +"Of course not, you bloody-looking fool. The best thing you can do is to +go and get me a better crib with all possible speed, my friend. And mind +it's a decent one. The last one was rotten; and I can't do without one. +I was bottled yesterday." + +In three days Rudd's agent from town had procured him a fine edition of +the Sicilian expedition. Davenport and Gordon did some superb construe +during the remainder of the term. + +It is, of course, very easy to run down any existing system; and the +Public School system has come in for its fair share of abuse. Yet it +must be remembered that no one has yet been able to devise a better. And +after all, for the average man it is not such a bad training. It is +inclined to destroy individuality, to turn out a fixed pattern; it +wishes to take everyone, no matter what his tastes or ideas may be, and +make him conform to its own ideals. In the process, much good is +destroyed, for the Public School man is slack, easy-going, tolerant, is +not easily upset by scruples, laughs at good things, smiles at bad, yet +he is a fine follower. He has learnt to do what he is told; he takes +life as he sees it and is content. So far so good. With the average +individual the system is not so very unsatisfactory. + +But take the case of the boy who has it in him to be a leader, who is +not merely content to follow, but wishes to be at the head, in the +forefront of the battle. What of him? Gordon went to Fernhurst with the +determination to excel, and at once was brought face to face with the +fact that success lay in a blind worship at the shrine of the god of +Athleticism. Honesty, virtue, moral determination--these mattered not at +all. The author of _Eric_ and such others who have never faced, really +faced, life and seen what it is, talk of the incalculable good one boy +can do, who refuses to be led astray by temptations, and remains true to +the ideals he learnt in the nursery. If there does come into any school +such a boy, he is merely labelled as "pi," and taken no notice of. He +who wishes to get to the front has to strive after success on the field, +and success on the field alone. This is the way that the future leaders +of England are being trained to take their proper place in the national +struggle for a right and far-sighted civilisation. On this alone the +system stands condemned. For the history of a nation is the history of +its great men, and the one object of the Public School is to produce not +great men, but a satisfactory type. + +Gordon found that, as soon as he was recognised as a coming athlete, +popularity was his, and that on the strength of his physical abilities +he could do pretty well what he liked. For there is no strong feeling in +schools on the subject of honesty and morality. And it is not unnatural +that a boy, finding that no one will object if he follows the call of +pleasure, drifts with the stream. And then Gordon went off suddenly at +games, as the best athlete must at some time or other. Like many others, +he loved popularity and fame. So, in order to keep in the limelight, he +flung aside all pretences of conscience, and got the reputation of being +"the devil of a sport"--a reputation that is a passport to Public School +society, but is damning to any man's character. Only a few realise this. +Betteridge was one. He was not an athlete, but was clever and in the +Sixth. He enjoyed a rag, but saw the difference between liberty and +licence. He was a freethinker, and saw life with a wide vision that +embraced the whole horizon. + +"Look here, Caruthers," he said one evening, during hall, in the last +half of the summer term, "I don't want to say anything; but you know you +are making a most awful ass of yourself." + +"What do you mean?" + +"You know quite well what I mean. I don't think it's your fault; it is +the fault of this rotten system under which we live. You are not what +you were when you first came. Of course, it is natural to crib and fool +about, but you are going a bit far. One day you will be captain of this +House. You'll be sorry then." + +"Oh, don't be a damned ass, Betteridge, preaching to me. I know what I +am doing. It's not long that I shall have to enjoy myself. I shall be in +the Sixth soon, and shall have to slow down then. But at present I shall +do damned well what I like. After all, what does it matter if I do rot +all day and muck about generally? It makes no difference to you or the +House. It's my own damned business, and besides, everyone else does it!" + +It was useless to reason with him. The argument that "others do it" is +impossible to combat. And, after all, environment is what counts, and it +is a fairly dangerous environment with which to surround any but the +average sensual being who eats, drinks, laughs and is merry, and never +thinks at all. And yet masters are surprised when they find the big man +whom they thought impregnable following the accepted customs. They say: +"What a pity! A fine fellow gone to the dogs, and after all we've done +for him, too!" and yet whose fault is it? + +But this is by the wayside. For better or for worse the character of +Gordon Caruthers was developing on its own lines. Criticism should be +withheld till the last threads are woven, and we can judge of the +complex whole. + + * * * * * + +The summer term was drawing to a close. It had not been very successful +as far as Gordon was concerned. His cricket had frankly been a failure, +and the prominence he had gained in his House hardly compensated for the +misgivings with which the Chief and Buller regarded his future. It +seemed as if he could not help running up against "the Bull." + +A-K was knocked out of the Senior House competition at once. They drew +Christy's and were beaten by an innings. Gordon made eleven and fifteen, +and was missed three times while making them. Foster, however, got a +very sturdy thirty-three not out, and took three wickets. He got his +House cap. Gordon was furious, and swore that he was jolly well not +going to try any more that term. + +During the final senior he was strolling round the field with Tester, +both of them in cloth suits, unchanged for games. "The Bull" came up +behind them. + +"Caruthers, why aren't you changed this afternoon?" + +"Well sir, we only had a House game this afternoon, so Tester and I got +leave off to watch the match." + +"But your House is not playing in it." + +"No, sir." + +"Well, then, what on earth do you mean by slacking about the field like +this? It's your duty to be training yourself too, so that some day you +may be of some use to Fernhurst, and here are you slacking about, +instead of asking the pro. to give you a net. Slackness! filthy +slackness! I don't know what's wrong with you this term; you were quite +keen once." + +He strolled off, scratching the back of his head. "The Bull" always did +this when in a bad temper. + +"Poor old chap," murmured Tester, "he takes these little things so much +to heart. He loathes me because I don't sweat myself to death all day at +the nets. He never said anything to me; he has given me up as a bad job. +Poor old chap!" + +"Well, I suppose we ought to have been at the nets," said Gordon. + +"If we did everything that we ought to do in this world, we should never +have a moment's time to do the things we liked." + +"I suppose so," said Gordon, "but still, you know--oh, well, what the +hell does it matter? By Jove, well hit, Dyke!" + +The conversation turned again to the match. + +Next term Gordon had arranged to have a study with Lovelace. Tester was +going to be a prefect, and wanted to himself the big upstairs study that +Clarke had had. Gordon was staying in No. 1. + +He was not sorry. He did not quite understand Tester; he was too clever, +and Gordon never knew exactly what he was driving at. Lovelace, on the +other hand, was his best friend; they had played together in several +sides, and next term Lovelace would captain the footer Colts. The future +seemed very roseate. Moreover, he was certain to get into the Sixth, and +that meant many privileges. He did not have to attend rolls, he could be +late for tea, there was no need for him to get leave to speak to anyone +in hall. It meant many study hours, and it would also bring him into +contact with the Olympians. There was Garter, who had been in the Sixth +four terms, and was in the Second Fifteen. He would meet Betteridge. +There was Rudd to rag. Prothero had reduced his time-table to one hour +in school a day, and was an authority to consult on any subject +regarding avoiding work. Davenport would be promoted, too. Gordon's day +of power was beginning to dawn. Next term he would be distinctly a House +blood. It was a ravishing thought. + +One evening in exam. week Hunter announced casually after tea: "I say, +do you remember Betteridge talking once about a man called Ferrers? +Well, he is coming here as a master next term." + +"Oh, Lord, is he really?" said Fletcher. "I suppose he will be full of +rotten new theories, and he will probably want to make us work." + +"Well, I always give a master a good fortnight's trial before I do any +work for him," said Tester; "at the end of that, I usually find his +keenness has worn off. I bet he will be the same as all the rest." + +"I doubt it," said Betteridge; "he is a man." + +"Well, whatever he is, he is going to have no effect on me," said +Gordon, with a finality that quite closed the question. + + + + +CHAPTER IV: THROUGH A GLASS DARKLY + + +As often as not, it is mere chance that provides the most essentially +important moments in our lives. It is easy to talk of the inevitable +march of Fate, but more usually a chance word or look alters our entire +outlook on life. And so it was that the course of Gordon's whole career +was suddenly changed into a different channel, at a moment when he was +drifting placidly on the stream of a lax conventionality, and was +frittering away all his opportunities for sheer lack of anything that +would spur him on to a clearer conception of what life means. + +During the whole of the term, Tester and Gordon had done their early +morning preparation on the V. A green. As they had answered their names +at roll, they would take out deck-chairs and cushions and luxuriously +pass the three quarters of an hour before breakfast reclining back, +putting the finishing touches to the evening's work. It is a very +beautiful spot, the V. A green. On three sides it is flanked with +buildings; on the fourth is a low wall, which is used as an exit for +nocturnal expeditions. It was under the V. A class-room that Gordon and +Tester put their chairs. Opposite them was the grey library; beyond rose +the Abbey, solemn and austere; on the left was the chapel and the long +cloister leading to big school. In the early morning a great hush +pervaded the place. The only sound was the faint tolling of the +Almshouse bell. Between the Abbey and the library the sun rose in a +blaze of glory. + +On the last morning of the term Gordon and Tester lolled back in their +comfortable chairs. Gordon was trying to learn his rep. for the exam. +that morning. Tester was reading _The Oxford Book of English Verse_; the +exams for the Sixth were over. + +"Oh, damn this," said Gordon. "I can't learn the stuff." + +He flung the book down, and lay back watching the first rays of the sun +flicker on the cold bronze of the Abbey. + +"This has been a rotten term, you know," he said at last. + +"Yes?" said Tester. He was engrossed in poetry. + +"Well, I got into the deuce of a row with Chief, and I never got my +House cap, and I've broken it off with Jackson." + +Tester put down his book and sat up. + +"Caruthers, you know you are wasting your time. Here are you with all +your brilliance and your personality worrying only about House caps and +petty intrigues, and little things like that. What you want to realise +is that there is something beyond the aim of a Fernhurst career. You are +clever enough; but poetry and art mean nothing to you." + +"Oh poetry, that's all right for Claremont and asses like that, but +what's the use of it?" + +"Oh, use, use! Nothing but this eternal cry about the use of a thing. +Poetry is the sort of beacon-light of man. What's wrong with you is that +you've read the wrong stuff. It is all very well for a middle-aged man +to worship Wordsworth and calm philosophy. But youth wants colour, life, +passion, the poetry of revolt. Now look here, let me read you this, and +then tell me what you think of it." + +"Oh, all right. Is it long?" + +"No, not very." + +In a low, clear voice, Tester began to read the great spring Chorus in +_Atalanta_, into which Swinburne has crowded all that he ever knew of +joy and happiness. In everyone there lies the love of beauty--"we needs +must love the highest when we see it"--but the pity is that so few of us +are ever brought face to face with the really lovely, or perhaps, if we +are, we come to it too late. Our power of appreciation has lain too long +dormant ever to be aroused. And at school it is the common thing for +boys to pass through their six years' traffic without ever realising +what beauty is. They are told to read Vergil, Tennyson and Browning, the +philosophers, the comforters of old age, poets who "had for weary feet +the gift of rest." But boys never hear of Byron, Swinburne and Rossetti, +men with big flaming hearts that cried for physical beauty and the +loveliness of tangible things. As a result they drift out into the +world, to take their place with the dull, commonplace Philistine who has +made the House of Commons what it is. + +But as Gordon heard Tester reading the wonderful riot of melody, which +conjures up visions of rainbows, and far-receding sunsets, of dew +gleaming like crystals in the morning, of water gliding like forgotten +songs, a strange peace descended on him. He had not known that there +could be anything so intensely beautiful. Over the great Abbey the sun +was rising heavenwards; down the street past the Almshouses he heard the +happy sound of a young girl laughing. The world was full of strange new +things; there was a new meaning in the song of the blackbird, in the +rustle of the leaves, in the whispering of the warm wind. And suddenly +there came over him a sensation of how far he himself was below the +splendour of it all. He had walked through life with blinded eyes; with +dulled senses he had stared at the ground, while all the time the great +ideal of beauty was shining from the blue mountains of man's desire. + +Tester had finished reading. + +"Well what do you think of it?" + +"Oh, it's wonderful. I never dreamt of such music." + +"Yes, you see, masters grow old; they forget what it was like to be +young; they want us to look at life through their spectacles, and, of +course, we can't. Youth and age is an impossible combination; we have to +cut a way for ourselves, Caruthers, sometimes we fail, sometimes we +succeed. I've made a pretty fair mess of things, because I have gone on +my own way; because I have had no one to guide me. I found little +consolation in mature thought, and I am not one of the fools who has +just taken things for granted; I strike out by myself. I want to find +what beauty really is, and I shall find it by sifting out everything +first. I have probed a good many things one way and another, some ugly, +some beautiful. I have followed the course of Nature. After all, Nature +is more likely to be right than an artificial civilisation. I follow +where my inclinations lead me. I hate laws and regulations. As I've +often said, I did not ask to come into this world, so I shall do as I +please, and I think that I shall reach home all right in the end. +Literature is a great sign-post!" + +"Yes," said Gordon simply. "I never imagined it before. Who wrote that, +by the way?" + +"Swinburne, the great pagan who was sick of the sham and pretence of his +day, and cried for the glories of Rome. Look here, Caruthers, come down +to Gisson's afterwards, and as a memento of our year together in Study +1, just let me give you Swinburne's _Poems and Ballads_. It's great +stuff; you'll like it, and you'll find there something a bit better than +your caps and pots." + +Gordon did not answer. The sun had now risen high above the Abbey. +Across the silence was wafted the cracked notes of the School House +bell; there was a rush of feet from the studies. For a few minutes +Gordon lay back in his chair quite quiet. A new day had broken on his +life. The future opened out with wide promises, with possibilities of +great things. For he had heard at last the call which, if ever a man +hears it, he casts away the nets and follows after--the call of +beauty--"which is, after all, only truth, seen from another side." + + + + +BOOK III: UNRAVELLING THE THREADS + + "... and drank delight of battle with my peers." + + TENNYSON. + + "Yet would you tread again + All the road over? + Face the old joy and pain-- + Hemlock and clover? + Yes. For it still was good, + Good to be living, + Buoyant of heart and blood; + Fighting, forgiving." + + AUSTIN DOBSON. + + "Oh! the hardest day was never then too hard." + + LINDSAY GORDON. + + + + +CHAPTER I: COMMON ROOM FACES + + +Miracles do not happen, nor do sudden conversions. Man very rarely +changes. What he is at the beginning, he is at the end; all that occurs +is that at various stages of his journey he looks at life from a +different point of view, or rather through a different pair of +spectacles, for never on this earth do we really see things as they are. +When Gordon found new influences at work upon him, when he discovered +through literature that there is something higher than the ignoble +monotony of the average individual routine, he did not suddenly change +his whole way of life, and, "like a swimmer into cleanness leaping," put +out of sight behind him the things that had pleased him once. Right and +wrong are merely relative terms. What was considered right in the days +of Cæsar spells social ostracism to-day. And there are a few who prefer +to see life as the Romans saw it, and to follow the ideals of power and +physical beauty. For such life is not easy. Yet we are not so much +better than "when Cæsar Augustus was Egypt's Lord!" The question of what +is really right and what is really wrong will never be satisfactorily +decided, on this earth at any rate, for we cannot all wear the same +spectacles for long. Temperament is all-powerful. + +And Gordon made no attempt to settle the question. He did not suddenly +feel a loathing for his former pleasures, but during the long summer +holidays, as he bathed in the waters of English poetry, it seemed to him +as if he had outgrown them, and cast them aside. Perhaps in the future +they might momentarily appear beautiful once more, but he did not think +that he would ever again wear them for very long, for they were, after +all, little, insignificant, trivial, and contrasted poorly with the +white heat of Byron's passion, and the flaming ardour of Swinburne, that +cried for "the old kingdoms of earth and their kings." As he read on, +while the summer sun sank in a red sea behind the gaunt Hampstead firs, +read of the proud, domineering soul of Manfred, visualised the burst of +passion that had prompted the murder in _The Last Confession_, felt the +thundering paganism of the _Hymn to Proserpine_, he was overcome with a +tremendous hatred for the system that had kept literature from him as a +shut book, that had offered him mature philosophy instead of colour and +youth, and tried to prevent him from seeking it for himself. So this is +the way, he thought, the youth of England is being brought up. Masters +tell us to fix all our energies on achieving school successes, and think +of calf-bound prizes and tasselled caps all day long. No wonder that, if +they bind us down to trivial things, we become like the Man with the +Muck-Rake, and drift on with low aims, with nothing to help us to live +differently from cattle. No wonder the whole common room is repeatedly +shocked by the discovery of some sordid scandal. + +Gordon's soul was very arrogant and very intolerant, and it was rather +unfortunate that, at a time when he was bubbling over with rebellion, +Arnold Lunn's novel, _The Harrovians_, should have been published, as no +previous school story had done it stripped school life of sentiment, and +a storm of adverse criticism broke out. Old Harrovians wrote to the +papers, saying that they had been at Harrow for six years, and that the +conversation was, except in a few ignoble exceptions, pure and manly, +and that the general atmosphere was one of clean, healthy +broadmindedness. Gordon fumed. What fools all these people were! When +they were told the truth, they would not believe it. Prophets must +prophesy smooth things, or else were not prophets. How was there ever +going to be any hope of improvement till the true state of affairs was +understood? + +And then a sudden doubt came to Gordon. What if these old Harrovians +were right? What if this man Lunn had depicted the life of the +exceptional, not of the average boy? What then of Fernhurst? He had +judged the book by his own experiences. Was it possible that his school +was worse than other schools, and what was usual there, would be +exceptional at Rugby, Eton and Winchester? He had been so proud of +Fernhurst, with its grey cloisters and dreaming Abbey, with its +magnificent Fifteen and fine boxers. He had cursed at the Public School +system because he thought it had done harm to Fernhurst. What if +Fernhurst and not the system were at fault? For several days this +worried him. + +One evening, however, during the last week of the holidays, a Mr Ainslie +came to dinner. He had been a contemporary of Lunn's at Harrow, and had +himself been head of his house for two years. The conversation had +drifted to a discussion of recent books: _The Woman Thou Gavest Me_, +_Sinister Street_, _The Devil's Garden_, _Round the Corner_. + +"By the way, Gordon," said Ainslie, "read that book, _The Harrovians_?" + +"Oh yes, sir." + +"What did you think of it?" + +"I liked it very much--thought it was the finest school story I had ever +read." Gordon felt rather nervous. He was aware that he was on thin ice, +and timidly blurted out: "But, sir, was it true to Harrow life?" + +"Absolutely; and it's as true to the life of any other Public School. +They are all much the same, you know, at the root." + +An immense weight was lifted from Gordon's mind. + +"I thought so, sir, but such a lot of fellows wrote to the papers saying +it was all rot, and I began to wonder if----" + +"My dear Gordon, don't you make any mistake about it. Lunn knows what he +is talking about. But old Public School men shroud their school life in +a mist of sentiment; so they forget what they really did. All they +remember is how they ragged the 'stinks' master, and pulled off the +Senior cricket cup. Why, when that new house master--oh, what's his +name, Lee? Well, at any rate, when he came to Lunn's house he was slowly +getting rid of undesirables for terms, actually for terms. Cayley was +not the only one who had to go, and, of course, no one thought of +anything but games. I got a schol. there from my prep., and I literally +had to live it down. It took me some time, too. We want a good deal of +improvement in this rusty old system." + +So after all it was the system that was at fault, not Fernhurst.... +Fairly contentedly he went back by the three-thirty from Waterloo; but +as he saw the evening sun steeping the gravel courts in shadows, and +watched the lights flickering behind the study panes, it came home to +him with a poignant vividness that Fernhurst, which should have been a +home of dreams and of ideas, had, by the inefficiency of a vacillating +system, become immersed in petty intrigues, and was filled with a +generation that was being taught to blind itself to the higher issues. + +But in a moment he was caught up in the tear and bustle of an opening +term. There was the rush to the notice-board to see what dormitory he +was in, who were the prefects; then the hurried interview with the +Chief, and the inevitable Health certificate. The meeting of the +eight-ten from Exeter; prayers; the arrival of the last train; and +finally sleep. The hold of tradition is very strong; in a few moments +Gordon had flung aside his doubts and scruples. Arm-in-arm with Collins +he rolled down to the day-room to look at the new boys. There were +twelve of them in all, very frightened, very timid, huddled round the +day-room fire, wondering what was before them. + +"Well, Caruthers, what do you think of that lot?" said Collins, as they +swaggered back again to the studies. + +"Oh, not much; that fellow second from the left was not bad. What's his +name, oh yes, Morcombe. Believe me, he is some stuff." + +"Oh, I thought him rather a washed-out specimen, but, I say, that fat +fellow looks rather a sport. You know, the man like a dormouse." + +"Oh yes, that podgy lad. Morgan, he is Welsh, I know about him. He was +captain of the prep, last year at football--not a bad forward, I +believe. Oh, but there's Lovelace--Lovelace." + +"Hullo, Caruthers." + +In a huge brown coat, Lovelace charged across from the porter's lodge. +"Had any cricket? What price Middlesex--below Hants, rotten county--you +should watch Leicester now." + +"Oh, dry up, Middlesex has had bad luck this year." The defeat at Lord's +by Worcester and Kent in the same week was a sore point with Gordon. + +"Oh, did they? I call them rotten players. But, look here, who are +pres?" + +"Oh, Tester, Betteridge, Clarke, Mansell, all the whole crowd." + +"Good God, 'some' pres! Wait a sec. for me. I am only going to see Chief +for a second. I am going to get confirmed, I think. I heard you get off +some work for it. Half a sec." + +Back to the old life again. Nothing was changed. The same talk, the same +interests, all the old things the same. Only he was altered. He felt as +if he wanted to stand on the Abbey tower, and shout aloud that the +School was wasting its opportunities, and was struggling blindly in the +dark, following will-o'-the-wisps. And yet, for all that, he would not +have Lovelace, or Mansell or any other of his friends the least bit +different. He did not know what he wanted. It was better to let them go +on as they were. As it had been, it would be. He could not do much, and +at the moment he decided that, whatever he might think or feel, he would +outwardly remain the same. The world was not going to look at his soul. +He would go on as he had begun, putting things behind him as he outgrew +them, and as they appeared childish to him. Only a very few should ever +see him as he really was. The rest would not understand him, they would +think him strange, unnatural; and he did not want that. + +The first few days passed quickly. The entrance of Ferrers, the new +master, into the placid Fernhurst atmosphere caused a mild sensation. +The school first saw him walking across the courts after the masters' +meeting on the first day of term. His walk was a roll; he talked at the +top of his voice; his left arm sustained a pile of books; his right arm +gesticulated wildly. + +"Good Gawd," said Tester, "what a bounder." + +"Maybe, but he's the sort of man to wake up the school," said +Betteridge. + +"Isn't it rather like applying a stomach-pump to a man who is only fit +for a small dose of Eno's Fruit Salt?" + +"_Nous verrons._" + +And in the bustle of a new term Ferrers was forgotten. + +Gordon was in the Sixth, and its privileges were indeed sweet. He felt +very proud as he sat in the same room with Harding, a double-first, and +head of the House, and with Hazelton, the captain of the House. Though +it was an ordeal to go on to "con" before them, it was very magnificent +to roll down to the football field just before the game began without +attending roll. + +"I say, Caruthers," Lovelace would yell across the changing-room, "do +buck up; it's nearly twenty-five to three, and roll is at a quarter to." + +"I don't go to roll," came the lordly answer. + +And he felt the eyes of admiring juniors fixed on him. It was sheer joy, +too, to wear the blue ribbon of the Sixth Form and to carry a +walking-stick; to stroll into shops that were to the rest of the school +out of bounds; to go to the armoury and the gym. after tea without a +pass. But it was in hall that the new position meant most. + +While the rest of the house had to stay in their studies and make some +pretence of work, he would wander indolently down the passage and pay +calls. When he paused outside a study he heard the invariable sound of a +novel flying into the waste-paper basket, of a paper being shoved under +the table, or a cake being relegated to the window-seat. Then he came +in. + +A curse always greeted him. + +"Oh, damn you, Caruthers, I thought it was a prefect. Foster, hoist out +that cake; we were just having a meal." + +He now had the freedom of studies that had before been to him as holy +places. Where once Clarke had dealt out justice with a heavy hand, +Tester and he sat before the fire discussing books and life. In the +games study, where once he trembled before the rage of Lovelace major, +he sat with Carter in hall preparing Thucydides. Steps would sound down +the passage, a knock on the door. + +"Come in," bawled Carter. + +"Please, Carter, may I speak to Smith?" a nervous voice would say. No +one could talk without leave from a prefect during hall. + +"Yes; and shut the outer door," Carter answered, without looking round. +The prefectorial dignity seemed in a way to descend on Gordon; just then +life was very good. But there were times when he would feel an +uncontrollable impatience with the regime under which he lived. One of +these was on the second Sunday of term. It was Rogers' turn to preach, +and, as always, Gordon prepared himself for a twenty minutes' sleep till +the outburst of egoistic rhetoric was spent. But this time, about +half-way through, a few phrases floated through his mist of dreams and +caught his attention. Rogers was talking about the impending +confirmation service. With one hand on the lectern and the other +brandishing his pince-nez, as was his custom when he intended to be more +than usually impressive, he began the really vital part of the sermon. + +"In the holidays there appeared as, I am sorry to say, I expect some of +you saw, a book pretending to deal with life at one of our largest +Public Schools. I say, pretending, because the book contains hardly a +word of truth. The writer says that the boys are callous about religious +questions and discuss matters which only grown-up people should mention +in the privacy of their own studies, and still more serious, the purport +of the book was to attack not only the boys but even the masters who so +nobly endeavour to inculcate living ideas of purity and Christianity. I +am only too well aware when I look round this chapel to-night--this +chapel made sacred by so many memories--that nearly every word of that +accusation is false. Yet perhaps there are times--in our mirth, shall we +say?--when we are engaged in sport, or genial merriment, when we are +inclined to treat sacred matters not with quite that reverence that we +ought. Perhaps----" + +Rogers prosed on, epithet followed epithet, egotism and arrogance vied +with one another for predominance. The school lolled back in the oak +seats and dreamt of house matches, rags, impositions, impending rows. At +last the Chief gave out the final hymn. Into the cloisters the school +poured out, hustling, shouting, a stream of shadows. Contentedly Rogers +went back to his house, ate a large meal, and addressed a little homily +to the confirmation candidates in his house on the virtues of sincerity. + +"What a pitiable state of mind old 'Bogus' must be in," sighed Tester, +when the scurry of feet along the passage had died down kind of quiet, +and he and Gordon were sitting in front of a typically huge School House +fire. + +"I don't think I should call it a mind at all," muttered Gordon, who was +furious about the whole affair. "The man's an utter fool. When he is +told the truth he won't believe it, but stands there in the pulpit +rambling on, airing his rotten opinions. Good God, and that's the sort +of man who is supposed to be moulding the coming generation. Oh, it's +sickening." + +"Well, my good boy, what more can you expect? The really brilliant men +don't take up schoolmastering; it is the worst paid profession there is. +Look at it, a man with a double-first at Oxford comes down to a place +like Fernhurst and sweats his guts out day and night for two hundred +pounds a year. Of course, the big men try for better things. Rogers is +just the sort of fool who would be a schoolmaster. He has got no brain, +no intellect, he loves jawing, and nothing could be more suitable for +him than the Third Form, the pulpit, and a commission in the O.T.C. But +perhaps he may have a few merits. I have not found any yet." + +"Nor I. But, you know, some good men take up schoolmastering." + +"Oh, of course they do. There is the Chief, for instance, a brilliant +scholar and _the_ authority on Coleridge. But he is an exception; and +besides, he did not stop an assistant master long; he got a +headmastership pretty soon. Chief is a splendid fellow. But I am talking +of the average man. Just look at our staff: a more fatuous set of fools +I never struck. All in a groove, all worshipping the same rotten tin +gods. I am always repeating myself, but I can't help it. Damn them all, +I say, they've mucked up my life pretty well; not one of them has tried +to help me. They sit round the common room fire and gas. Betteridge +swears Ferrers is a wonderful man; personally, I think he is an +unmitigated nuisance. But at any rate, he is the only man who ever +thinks for himself. Oh, what fools they all are." + +For the rest of the evening Gordon and Tester cursed and swore at +everyone and everything, and on the whole felt better for having got it +off their chests. At any rate, next day Gordon was plotting a rag on an +enormous scale with Archie Fletcher; and in a House game assisted in the +severe routing of Rogers' house by seventy-eight points to nil. It takes +a good deal to upset a boy of fifteen for very long. And the long +evenings were a supreme happiness. + + * * * * * + +It must be owned that during hall Lovelace was rather unsociable. It was +not that he studied Greek or Latin; he had a healthy contempt for +scholastic triumphs; horse-racing was the real interest of his life. +"This is my work," he used to scoff, brandishing _The Sportsman_ in +Gordon's face. "I am not going to be a classic scholar, and I sha'n't +discover any new element, or such stuff as that. I am going on the turf. +This is my work." + +For an hour every evening he laboured perseveringly at "his work" with +form books, _The Sportsman_, and huge account books. For every single +race he chose the runners, and laid imaginary bets; each night he made +out how much he had lost or made; and it must be confessed that if he +had really laid money on the horses, he would most certainly have done a +good term's work. By Christmas he was one hundred and seventeen pounds +up. This pursuit, of course, rather militated against his activities in +the class-room; but, as he said, "It was only Claremont, the old +Methuselah--and they had a damned good crib." Lovelace did his work from +seven to eight, and during this time Caruthers, who seemed to be in the +happy condition of never having any work to do at all, wandered round +the studies. And during his peregrinations many who had been to him +before merely units in a vast organisation detached themselves from the +rest, and became to him living characters; especially was this so with +Foster. He had played with Foster for two years in the Colts and in A-K +sides, but there had never been anything in common between them; their +interests had been far apart; neither stood for anything to the other. +But now, when Gordon found himself frequently dropping into Foster's +study for half-an-hour or so, he realised how many qualities Foster had. +Foster was strong-willed, obstinate almost, quite regardless of +tradition, in his own way slightly a rebel, and a past master in the art +of deceiving masters. There are two ways of making a master look a fool: +one is by introducing processions and coloured mice; the other by bowing +before him, making him think you are hard-working and industrious, and +all the while laughing at him behind his back. Gordon preferred the +former, because he had the love of battle; but Foster held to the second +method, in its way equally effective, and anyone who shook a spear +against authority was sure of sympathy from Gordon. + +It was a great sight to see Foster bamboozle Claremont. With the +greatest regularity Foster was ploughed in his con., failed to score in +Latin prose, and knew nothing of his rep. And yet he never got an +imposition. He would point out how hard he worked; he often stayed +behind after school for a few seconds to ask Claremont a point in the +unseen. Such keenness was unusual, and Claremont could not connect it +with the slovenly productions that he had learnt to associate with +the name of Foster. For a long time it was a vast enigma. At +half term Foster's report consisted of one word, typically +Claremontian--"Inscrutable." But manners always win in the end. Foster +showed so much zeal, such an honest willingness to learn, that Claremont +finally classed him as a hard-working, keen, friendly, but amazingly +stupid boy. The Army class, which Foster honoured with his presence, +always did Latin and English with Claremont, and for over two years +Foster sat at the back of Claremont's room, scoring marks by singles +when others scored by tens. Yet his reports were invariably good; he +never had an imposition; he never needed to prepare a line of anything. + +"Well, Foster," Claremont used to say, as he returned a prose entirely +besmirched with blue pencil, "I believe you really try, but the result +is most disheartening." + +Foster always looked profoundly distressed; and at the end of the hour +he would go up, prose in hand, and ask why the subject of an active verb +could not be in the ablative. Two minutes later he would emerge with a +broad grin on his face, and murmur to whoever might be near that +Claremont was "a most damnable ass, but none the less a pleasant +creature." And in the evening hall he and Gordon would discuss how one +or other of them had advanced a step further into the enemy's country, +and taken one more pawn in the gigantic game of bluff. They were both in +their own fashion working to the same end. + +But at this point the serene calm of Gordon's life was suddenly rudely +interrupted by an incursion on the part of "the Bull." About three weeks +after the term had begun the Colts played their first game, and like +most sides at the beginning of a season, they were terribly +disorganised. Lovelace, who had been in under-sixteen teams for years, +was the Senior Colts badge and was captain. Burgoyne led the scrum; he +was a rough diamond, if indeed a diamond at all, and was not too popular +with the side. Foster was scrum half; Collins and Gordon were in the +scrum. It was really quite a decent side, but this particular afternoon +it started shakily. "The Bull" raged so madly and cursed so furiously +that the side became petrified with funk, and could do nothing right. + +Once and only once did the Colts look like scoring, and then Lovelace +knocked on the easiest pass right between the posts. + +"Never did I see anything like it," bellowed Buller. "For eighteen years +I have coached Fernhurst; and before that I coached Oxford and +Gloucestershire; and I am not going to stand this. Lovelace, you are not +fit to be captain of a pick-up, let alone a school Colts side. Burgoyne, +skipper the side. Now then, two minutes more to half-time; do something, +Colts." + +The Colts did do something. They let the other side score twice. At +half-time Buller poured forth a superb torrent of rhetoric. And suddenly +there came over Gordon an uncontrollable desire to laugh. "The Bull" +looked so funny, with his hair ruffled, and his eyes flaming with wrath. +Gordon had to look the other way, or he would have burst into paroxysms +of laughter. When one is overexcited and worried, hysteria is not far +absent. Gordon turned away. + +Then suddenly he felt a terrific assault on his backside. Someone had +booted him most fiercely, and turning round he saw the face of Buller +still more distorted with rage. + +"Never saw such rudeness! Here am I trying to coach the rottenest side +that has ever disgraced a Fernhurst ground, and you haven't the manners +to listen to me. Good man, are you so perfect that you can afford to pay +no attention to me? For heaven's sake, don't make your footer like your +cricket, the slackest thing in the whole of Fernhurst. Come on, we'll go +on with this game." + +For ten more minutes "the Bull" watched the Colts making feverish +endeavours to do anything right. But his powers of endurance were not +equal to the strain. + +"Here," he shouted, as Harding was going up to change after +superintending a pick-up, "you might referee for about ten more minutes +here, will you? I can't bear the sight of the little slackers any +longer." + +A sigh of relief went up as the figure of Buller rolled out through the +field gate. Strangely enough, the Colts did rather better after this, +and Collins scored a really quite fine try. But the side left the field +glowing with resentment. None more than Gordon and Lovelace. + +"What does the fool mean by making a little ass like Burgoyne captain?" +complained Gordon. "Dirty little beast, who does not wash or shave. And +he hacked me up the bottom, too, the swine. I'm getting a bit sick of +'The Bull.'" + +"So am I. What we really want is my brother back again. He kept him in +order all right. My brother was a strong man, and did not stand any rot +from Buller or anyone else." + +"Hullo, you two, you look about fed up! What's the row?" + +They turned round; Mansell was coming up behind them. Lovelace burst out +perfervidly: + +"It's that fool Buller. He cursed the Colts all round, and he made +Burgoyne captain instead of me, and he hacked Gordon's bottom, and told +him he had no manners. Believe me, we have had a jolly afternoon." + +"And I suppose he said that he had captained Oxford, Cambridge, New +Zealand and the Fiji Islands, and that in his whole career he had never +seen anything like it." + +"Oh yes, he fairly rolled out his qualifications, like a maid-servant +applying for a post." + +"Oh, well, never mind," said Mansell; "he is a good chap, really, only +he can't keep his temper. He'll probably apologise to you both before +the end of the day. I remember Ferguson said once: 'All men are fools +and half of them are bloody fools.' Not so bad for Ferguson that! Cheer +up!" + +"Yes; but, damn it all, it is a bit thick," said Lovelace. "And a tick +like Burgoyne to boot." + +As they were changing, a fag from Buller's made a nervous entry; he +looked very lost, but finally summoned up enough courage to ask +Davenport if he knew where Caruthers was. + +"Yonder, sirrah, lurking behind the piano." + +The fag came up. + +"Oh--I say--er--Caruthers. 'The Bull'--er, I mean Mr Buller wants to see +you as soon as you are changed." + +"Right," said Gordon. + +"I said so," said Mansell; "he will weep over you and shake your hand +like a long-lost brother; and after you will follow Lovelace, who will +once more lead the lads with white jerseys and red dragons to victory +against Osborne. Good-bye; you needn't stop, you know," he informed the +fag, who was giving a stork-like performance, by gyrating first on one +foot then on another. + +"That means I shall miss my tea," said Gordon. + +"I fear so," answered Mansell. "I don't really think you can expect 'the +Bull' to receive you with crumpets and muffins and other goodly +delights. Of course to-morrow is Sunday; you might manage to work a +supper-party, but don't rely on it. Come and tell me the result of your +chat; you will find me in my study; don't knock; just walk in; you are +always welcome." + +As Gordon walked across the courts to Buller's study he had not the +slightest doubt as to how the interview would end. "The Bull" was often +like this. Only yesterday Foster had told him some long yarn of how he +had beaten a lad in Christy's and had hit his hand by mistake; and to +kick a person was, after all, a far more undignified method of assault. +It was almost actionable. Quite contentedly he knocked on the door and +went in. He was not, however, welcomed with open arms. "The Bull" stood +with his back to the door, facing the fireplace, his hands behind his +back. He did not speak for a minute or so. Gordon wondered if it would +be correct to take a chair. "The Bull" broke the silence. + +"Well, Caruthers, are you sorry for what happened this afternoon?" + +This took Gordon by surprise: it was hardly the interview he had been +led to expect. He murmured "Yes, sir" rather indistinctly. + +"Are you, though? Because if you are going to come in here and say you +are sorry, when you are not, simply to smooth things over, you would be +a pretty rotten sort of fellow." + +"Yes, sir." Gordon had recovered his self-control and was ready for a +fight. + +"Well, this is the way I look at things. I am here to coach Fernhurst +sides; it is my life's work. I love Fernhurst, and I have devoted all my +energy and care to help my old school, and it seems to me that you are +trying--you and Lovelace between you--to ruin my work and stand in my +light. Both of you as individuals are well worth your places in both +under-sixteen sides, football and cricket. As individuals, I say; and +you think you are indispensable to the side, and that we can't do +without you. You can afford to laugh when you miss catches, and not pay +attention to me when I am trying to give you the benefits of my +experience." + +"I heard every word----" + +"Will you kindly wait till I have finished. Fernhurst has done very well +in the past without you and Lovelace, and five years hence it will have +to do without you, and I am not going to have you interfere with the +present. You hate me, I dare say; from all I hear of you, you hate my +house; and you stir up sedition against me. You show the others how +much you care for me. And you are both people who have some influence in +your house, and wherever you are, for that matter. And are you using it +for the good of Fernhurst? You ruined all my pleasure in the cricket +Colts; but I don't care about myself. All I care for is Fernhurst. Why +did I stop Lovelace being captain? Because I want a man who is going to +back me up, who is going to play for the side and not for himself. And I +tell you I am going to drop Lovelace; he plays for himself; he gives +rotten passes; he upsets combination; and I won't have him on my side." + +Gordon could stand it no longer. + +"Sir, I am not going to hold a brief for myself. But you have not +treated Lovelace fairly. Last year on a trial game you kicked him out of +the side, only to find in a week that you could not do without him. And +to-day, sir, on a trial game you deposed him from the captaincy." + +"Do you mean to say that after playing Rugby football for twenty-five +years I don't know what I am talking about?" + +Gordon saw he had said too much. + +"And I am not talking about his play, I am talking about his general +attitude. Now, didn't you two rag about a good deal at the nets last +term?" + +"Well, sir, it was hardly ragging, sir----" + +"Oh, hardly ragging.... There must be no ragging.... If we are going to +turn out good sides we must be in dead earnest the whole time. You +imagine you are loyal to Fernhurst. My old sides followed me implicitly. +I loved them, and they loved me. We worked together for Fernhurst; now, +are you doing your best for Fernhurst?" + +Gordon was overwhelmed. He wanted to tell "the Bull" how mistaken he +was; that he and Lovelace did not hate him at all; that they were doing +their best; but that their sense of humour was at times too strong. But +it was useless. "The Bull" would not give him a chance. And he had +learnt from Mansell and Tester that "the Bull" could only see one point +of view at a time. And yet he was filled with an immense admiration for +this man who thought only of Fernhurst, who had worked for Fernhurst all +his life, who made Fernhurst's interests the standard for every +judgment and action. There was something essentially noble in so +unswerving a devotion. If only his love of Fernhurst had not made him so +complete an egoist. + +"Well, what is it to be, Caruthers?" Buller went on. "Are you going to +work with me or against me? When you first came you were keen and +willing. You are still keen, but you think too much of yourself now; you +imagine you know more than I do. Is all this going to stop? Are we going +to work together?" + +There was nothing to be gained by arguing. + +"Sir, I shall do my best to." + +"Well, I hope so, Caruthers. It is not for my own sake I mind; you see +that, don't you? It is Fernhurst that matters. We must all do our best +for Fernhurst. I hope we sha'n't have any more trouble, you will be a +power in the school some day, we must work together--for Fernhurst." + +"Yes, sir." + +Gordon walked to the door; as he put his hand on the knob he paused for +a second, then turned round. + +"Good-night, sir." + +"Good-night, Caruthers." + +He was out in the street again. There was a tremendous noise going on in +one of the Buller's studies. From the courts came sounds of barge +football. He did not feel as if he wanted to go and discuss everything +with Mansell for a minute or so. Slowly he wandered round the shrubbery, +past the big school, past the new buildings into the Abbey courtyard. He +sat down on a seat and tried to think. A girl came and sat beside him +and smiled at him invitingly. He took no notice. She sat there a minute +or so, then got up and walked off stiffly. The Abbey clock boomed out +the quarter to six. In a minute or so he would have to go back to tea. +He was worried. He liked "the Bull," admired him intensely; and yet "the +Bull" thought he hated him, thought him disloyal. Why could not Buller +keep his temper? Why must he rush to conclusions without weighing the +evidence? And "the Bull" was such a splendid man; he was one of the very +few masters Gordon respected in the least. He wanted "the Bull" to like +him. And then there was Lovelace. Why couldn't "the Bull" try to see +life as Lovelace saw it? Why must he want everyone to share the same +views as he, look at everything through the same spectacles? It wouldn't +have mattered if he was merely an insignificant busybody like Christy. +He was such a splendid fellow, such a man. It was all such a pity. And +yet he realised that he would have to try and bend his will to that of +Buller; he must endeavour to work side by side with him. It would not do +to have Fernhurst split up into two camps. In the past he had thought he +was doing his best; but "the Bull" wanted absolute subservience. And +what "the Bull" wanted he usually got. + +Lovelace, however, took quite a different view. He was mad with Buller. + +"Damn it all, it is not the first time the swine has done the dirty on +me. Look at the way he kicked me out of the side last year." + +"I know, that's what I told him. And he owned that both of us as +individuals were worth our places, but that we upset the side and rotted +about, and were always up against him." + +"Silly ass the man must be. We are keen enough, aren't we? But I damned +well don't see why we should treat footer and cricket like a chapel +service. We can laugh in form if anything funny happens; then why the +hell shouldn't we laugh on the field? And, my God, Caruthers, you did +look an ass when you missed that catch." Lovelace roared with laughter +at the thought of it. "The way you juggled with it, and old Bull tearing +his hair, oh, it was damned funny." + +"But, you see, 'the Bull' thinks games are everything, and, damn it all, +they are the things that really matter. We each may have our own private +interests. But games are the thing. Only personally I don't see why we +should not see the funny side of them. To 'the Bull' a dropped catch is +an everlasting disgrace." + +"Oh, let 'the Bull' go to blazes, I am sick of him. If he wants to kid +me out of the Colts, he can; and I'll go and enjoy myself on House +games. But look here, there is a Stoics debate to-night and it's nearly +roll-time. You had better go down and bag two seats." + +The Stoics society was of elastic proportions, including everyone above +IV. A, for a life subscription of sixpence, and during the winter term +it held meetings every other week in the School House reading-room. The +actual membership was over a hundred, but rarely more than fifty +attended, and of those who went only fifty per cent. paid any attention +to the proceedings. The rest looked on it as a good excuse for getting +off work. Three quarters of the society were from the School House, and +these arrived with deck chairs, cushions and a novel, and thoroughly +enjoyed themselves. Christy was the president, and this was to a great +extent the reason for so general an atmosphere of boredom and +indifference. For Christy was the typical product of conventionality and +pharisaism. He was so thoroughly contented with anything he +superintended that he refused to believe any improvement was possible. +But this year Betteridge was honorary secretary and had tried to infuse +a little life into the society. The subject for the first debate of the +term was "Classical and Modern Education," and Ferrers was going to +speak for the modern side. Ferrers was always writing to the papers, and +was already well known in the common room as a feverish orator. A good +deal had been rumoured about him, and the school were rather anxious to +hear him. There was quite a large audience. At about twenty past seven +Christy came in, and everyone stood up till he had sat down. Burgess was +to open the debate for the classics, and Christy was to second him. +Ferrers and Pothering, the head of Claremont's, were for the moderns. +The debate was supposed to open at twenty past the hour. But Ferrers had +not arrived. There was an awkward pause. At last Christy got up. + +"I really think it is useless to wait any longer for Mr Ferrers. We will +proceed. The motion before the House is: That in the opinion of this +House a classical education is more efficacious than a modern one. I +will call on Mr Burgess to open the motion." + +There was a little clapping as Burgess got up with a customary display +of conceit. He ran his hand through his hair and took a glance at his +notes, and then began with the blasé air of Mercury addressing a +Salvation Army meeting. + +"Of course those in favour of modern education will defend themselves on +the grounds of general utility. They will point out the uselessness of +Greek in business; all I can say to that is that the Public School man +should be too much of a gentleman to wish to succeed in business. He +should aim higher; he should follow the ideals set before him by the +classics. Nearly all the poets and politicians of to-day are Public +School men; nearly all ..." + +He went on rolling off absurdly dogmatic statements that were based +solely on ignorance and arrogance. He was of the Rogers' school of +oratory. He believed that a sufficient amount of conceit and +self-possession would carry anyone through. About half-way through his +speech he was interrupted by the approach of a whirlwind. There was a +sound of feet on the stone passage, something crashed against the door, +and in rolled Ferrers in a most untidy blue suit, a soft collar, an +immense woollen waistcoat, and three books under his arm. These he +slammed on the table, in company with his cap. + +"Awfully sorry, Christy, old fellow ... been kept ... new lot of books +from Methuen's ... had to take one up to my wife ... rather ill, you +know.... Fire away, Burgess." + +All his remarks were flung off in jerks at a terrific rate. The abashed +orator concluded rather prematurely and rather wildly; such an incursion +was most irregular and very perplexing. + +"I will now call on Mr Ferrers to speak." + +Up leapt Ferrers and began at once firing off his speech at the pace of +a cinematograph. He was full of mannerisms. He would clap his hand over +his eyes when he wanted to think of something, and would then spread it +out straight before him. It was rather dangerous to get close. He would +pick up one of his books and shake it in the face of Christy. + +"This is what Mackenzie says ... in _Sinister Street_ ... fine book ... +smashes up everything, shows the shallowness of our education ... this +is what he says...." + +After he had read a few words, he would bang the book down on the table +and continue pouring forth inextricable anacolutha. Everyone was +listening; they had never heard anything like this before. It was a +revelation. Christy chewed his finger-nails. Burgess assumed an air of +Olympian content. The flood of rhetoric rolled on: + +"It is like this, you see; the classical education makes you imitate all +the time ... Greek Prose like Sophocles ... Latin Verse like +Petronius.... I don't know if I have got the names right ... probably +not ... never could stick doing it. There is no free thought. Classics +men do very well in the Foreign Offices, but they can't think.... What +do classics do in the literary world? Nothing. Bennett, Lloyd George, +Wells--the best men never went to a Public School.... We want +originality; and the classics don't give it. They are all right for a +year or so to give a grounding of taste ... though they don't give that +to the average boy ... but no more. What did I learn from +classics?--only to devise a new way of bringing a crib into form.... Is +that an education? No, we want French, jolly few cribs to be got of +Daudet that are any use to the Lower Fifth ... Maths, that's the stuff +... makes them think.... Riders ... get them out your own way--not +Vergil's way or Socrates' way--your own way--originality...." + +In this strain he talked for a quarter of an hour, and held the audience +spellbound. He had really interested them. Here was something new, +something worth listening to. He was received with a roar of clapping. + +After his speech everything else fell flat. Christy made one or two +super-subtle remarks which no one understood. There was nothing left for +Pothering to say; the motion was then put before the House and the +debate developed into a farce. Idiot after idiot got up and made some +infantile qualification of an earlier statement--all of them talked off +the point. So much so, in fact, that Turner was beginning a tale of a +fight he had had with a coster down Cheap Street when Christy called him +to order. + +Gordon at once rose in protest. + +"Gentlemen, I address the Chair. It is preposterous that Mr Turner +should have been refused a hearing. We may have lost what would perhaps +have thrown new light on the subject. Doubtless he had carefully +selected this particular anecdote out of a life, alas, too full of +excitement" (a roar greeted this, Christy had beaten Turner that very +morning for eating chocolates in German), "with the express view of +pointing out the superiority of the classics. Doubtless the rough in +question, not knowing the custom in Homeric contests, had failed to +propitiate the gods, while he, the narrator, had rushed into Back Lane +behind Mother Beehive's charming old-world residence, and having offered +a prayer to Mars, waited for his burly antagonist in the darkness, and +as the vile man, clearly one of St Paul's 'god haters'" (that time the +Sixth were reading the "Romans") "thundered by, he smote him with a +stone above the eye, and left him discomfited and, like OEdipus, well +nigh blind. Here we see----" + +But the meeting never found out what they really saw. Gordon was called +to order, and sat down amid a tumult of applause. One or two more +speakers brought fresh evidence to bear on the subject; and then there +was the division. The moderns won by a huge majority. As the rabble +passed into the passage Gordon heard Ferrers say to Christy in his most +patronising manner: + +"Rather wiped the ground with you, didn't we?... Well, never mind, you +stood no earthly.... Days of the classics are over. Still, you fought +well.... Third line of defence--_ad triarios_.... I remember a bit of my +classics." + +Gordon was borne out on the stream past the matron's room to the end of +the passage, and the rest of Ferrers's speech was lost. + +From this day the Stoics underwent a complete change. The whole nature +of the society was altered. Ferrers was so absolutely different from +anything that a master had appeared to be from time immemorial. He was +essentially of the new generation, an iconoclast, a follower of Brooke +and Gilbert Cannan, heedless of tradition, probing the root of +everything. At the end of the term Christy resigned his presidency. He +could not keep pace with the whirlwind Ferrers. + +"You know, Caruthers," said Tester in second hall, "whatever our +personal feelings may be, we have got to allow that this man Ferrers has +got something in him." + +"Something! Why, I thought him simply glorious. Here he is bursting in +on the prude conventionality of Fernhurst full of new ideas, smashing up +the things that have been accepted unquestionably for years. By Jove, +the rest of the staff must hate him." + +"There was a thing by him in the _A.M.A._ the other day that caused +considerable annoyance, I believe. I didn't read the thing myself, but I +heard 'the Bull' saying it was disgraceful that a Fernhurst master +should be allowed to say such things. I suppose he said something +against games." + +"Well, damn it all, if he did, he is in the wrong. Games are absolutely +necessary. What on earth would the country be like without them?" + +"A damned sight better, I should think." + +"Oh, don't be an ass. Just look at the fellows who don't play games, +Rudd and Co. What wrecks they are! Utterly useless. We could do +perfectly well without them. Could not we now?" + +At this point Betteridge strolled in very leisurely. Authority had made +him a dignified person. The days of ragging Trundle seemed very distant. +He did not go about with Mansell so much now. He was more often with +Carter and Harding. + +"Betteridge, come in and sit down," said Tester; "we were arguing on the +value of games. Don't you agree with me that it's about time a man like +Ferrers made a sensible attack on them?" + +"Yes; though I doubt if Ferrers is quite the man to do it. He is such a +revolutionary. He would want to smash everything at once. A gradual +change is what is needed. I look at it like this. Games are all right in +themselves. A man must keep himself physically fit; but games are only a +means to an end. The object of all progress is to get a clear, +clean-sighted race, intellectual and broadminded. And I think physical +fitness is a great help in the production of a clear, clean mind. The +very clever man who is weak bodily is so apt to become a decadent; and +because he himself can't stand any real exertion, despises those who +can. Games are necessary as a means to an end. But Buller and all the +rest of the lot think games are the actual end. Look at the way a man +with his footer cap is idealised and worshipped. He may be an utter +rake; probably is, most likely he has no brains at all. If he ever had +them, he soon ceased to use them, and devotes all his energies to +athletic success. Why should we worship him? Merely because he can kick +a rotten football down a rotten field. It is this worship of athletics +that is so wrong." + +"Oh, you are talking rot," burst out Gordon angrily; "the English race +is the finest in the whole world and has been bred on footer and +cricket. I own the Public School system has its faults; but not because +of games. It stamps out personality, tries to make types of us all, +refuses to allow us to think for ourselves. We have to read and pretend +to like what our masters tell us to. No freedom. But games are all +right. We all have our own interests. Poetry is my chief one at present. +But that doesn't blind me to the fact that games are what count. Where +should we be without them? And I damn well hope the House is not going +to get into a finicky, affected state of mind, despising them because +they are too slack to play them. That's why you hate them, Betteridge, +because you are no good at them. My great ambition is to be captain of +this House and win the Three Cock. Of course the worship of sport is all +right. Our fathers worshipped it, and damned good fellows they were, +too. I can't stand you when you talk like this. I am going to find +Lovelace; he has got a bit of sense." + +The door slammed noisily behind him. + +"He is very young," said Betteridge. + +"Yes; and full of hopes," murmured Tester. "It is a pity to think he +will have to be so soon disillusioned. Very little remains the same for +long. Pleasure is very evanescent." + +Betteridge looked at him a little curiously. + +"I should not have thought you would have found that out," he said. + +Tester shrugged. + +"Oh, well, you know, even the fastest of us get tired of our licence at +times. Byron would have become a Benedictine monk if he had lived to be +fifty." + +Betteridge smiled, and picking up a Browning from the table sank into an +easy-chair to read. + +Tester remained looking into the fire. What a fool he had been to give +himself away just then. It was his great object never to let anyone see +into his soul. He had once shown Caruthers what he was, because he could +not bear to see a person of ability wasting himself for want of high +ideals. He had tried to show him that there was something above the +commonplace routine of life. And in a way he had succeeded. Caruthers +often came in in the evenings to discuss poetry with him, and those were +some of the happiest moments of his life. He was not sorry that he had +poured out his heart to him. Of course Caruthers was still young, was +still under the influence of environment. But in time he was sure to +realise that athletics were not the aim of life, but only a tavern on +the wayside, where we may rest for a little, or which we may pass by, +just as our fancy takes us. If Caruthers saw this at last, he would then +have done at least something not altogether vain. + +For, after all, what a useless life his had been. The road he had +travelled seemed white with the skeletons of broken hopes. In the +glowing coals he saw the pageant of his past unroll itself. He had never +been quite the normal person. His father was a minor poet, and for as +long as he could remember his house had been full of literary people. +Arthur Symons and George Moore had often discussed the relations between +art and life across his fireplace. Yeats had told him stories of strange +Irish myths; Thomas Hardy had read to him once or twice. He had spent +his whole life with men who thought for themselves, who had despised the +conventions of their day, and he himself had ceased to believe in +anything except what personal experience taught him. He had resolved to +find out things for himself. And what, after all, had he discovered? +Little except the vanity of mortal things. In his friendship with +Stapleton he had for a term or so found a temporary peace, but it had +not been for long. As soon as he achieved anything it seemed to collapse +before him. He had at times sought to forget his failures in blind fits +of passion, but when the fire was burnt out the old world was the old +world yet! In books alone he found a lasting comfort. The school looked +on him as "quite a decent chap, awfully fast, of course, doesn't care a +damn what he does, just lives to enjoy himself and have a damned good +time." He smiled at the irony of it all. If they only knew! But they +could never know. He had made a mistake in saying so much to Betteridge; +he must not do it again. He must go on probing everything to discover +where, if anywhere, was that complete peace, that perfect beauty that he +had set out to find. In the meantime the destiny of his life would +unfold itself. He would follow where his inclinations led him. + +The evening bell broke into his reverie. + +He stretched himself. + +"Come on, Betteridge. Let us have a rag to-night." + +"Oh, I don't think I will, I am rather sleepy." Betteridge was aware of +his position. To Tester being a prefect signified very little. + +That night Carter's dormitory was submitted to a most fearful raid. +Water flowed everywhere. Two sheets were ripped and a jug broken. Rudd's +bed was upset on the floor with Rudd underneath. + +"By Jove, Caruthers," said Lovelace, from Harding's well-behaved +dormitory, "that man Tester is some lad." + +And Gordon thought, as he saw him laying about him full lustily with a +pillow, that all his talk about games must be merely a damned +affectation. He was really like any ordinary fellow. + +When peace was at last restored, and he had led home his victorious +forces, Tester laughed quietly to himself, as he watched the moonlight +falling across a huge pool of water. He had played his part pretty well. + + * * * * * + +For the rest of the term life flowed easily with Gordon. There were no +further rows with "the Bull"; in fact their row seemed, for a time at +any rate, to have brought them closer together. Both seemed anxious to +be friends with one another, and on the football field Gordon's play +gave really very little cause for complaint. For this term his football +reached his highest level. In following seasons he played good games on +occasions, but he never equalled the standard he set himself in the +Colts. It was one of Gordon's chief characteristics that he usually did +well while others failed, and this term the Colts for some reason or +other never properly got together. The side kept on being altered. For +a week after the row Lovelace was kept out of the side; but it was soon +obvious that his presence was absolutely necessary. + +"What did I say," said Gordon. "You see, 'the Bull's' madness doesn't +last for long. He got a bit fed up with you, Lovelace, so he made +himself imagine your football was bad. He can always make himself think +what he likes." + +"Yes; but it is rather a nuisance," Mansell remarked, "when you realise +it is always House men who have to do the Jekyll and Hyde business." + +"Good Lord! Mansell, you are becoming literary," laughed Gordon. "How +did you hear of Jekyll and Hyde?" + +"Claremont has been reading the thing on Sunday mornings; not so bad for +a fool like Stevenson. It rather reminded me of _The Doctor's Double_, +by Nat Gould; only, of course, it is not half so good." + +"No, that is a fact," said Lovelace. "Nat Gould is the finest author +alive. I read some stuff in a paper the other day about books being true +to life. Well, you could not get anything more true than _The Double +Event_; and race-horsing is the most important thing in life, too. I +sent up the other day for six of his books; they ought to be here +to-morrow." + +"Well, for God's sake, don't bring them in here," said Gordon, "there is +enough mess as it is with _The Sportsmans_ of the last month trailing +all over the place." + +"Oh, have some sense, man; you don't know what literature is." + +Gordon subsided. All his new theories of art collapsed very easily +before the honest Philistinism of Lovelace and Mansell; for he was not +quite sure of his own views himself. He loved poetry, because it seemed +to express his own emotions so adequately. Byron's "Tempest-anger, +Tempest-mirth" was as balm to his rebellious soul. Rebellion was, in +fact, at this time almost a religion with him. Only a few days back he +had discovered Byron's sweeping confession of faith, "I have simplified +my politics into an utter detestation of all existing governments," and +he found it a most self-satisfying doctrine. That was what his own life +should be. He would fight against these masters with their +old-fashioned and puritanic notions; he would be the preacher of the new +ideas. It was all very crude, very impossible, but at the back of this +torrid violence lay an honest desire to better conditions, tempered, it +must be owned, with an ambition to fill the middle of the stage himself. +In his imagination he became a second Byron. He saw, or thought he saw, +the mistakes of the system under which he lived; and--without pausing to +consider its merits--wished to sweep away the whole foundation into the +sea, and to build upon some illusory basis a new heaven and new earth. +He had yet to read the essay in which Matthew Arnold says that "Byron +shattered, inevitably shattered himself against the black rock of +British Philistinism." He was at present full of hope. The Poetry of +Revolt coloured his imagination to such a degree that he saw himself +standing alone and triumphant amid the wreck of the world he had +overthrown. He was always protesting that Swinburne's finest line was in +the _Hymn to Proserpine_: + + "_I neither kneel nor adore them, but standing look to the end._" + +It raises a wonderful picture to a young imagination: Swinburne standing +on a mountain, looking across the valley of years in which man fights +feverishly for little things, in which nations rise to empire for a +short while, in which constitutions totter and fall, looking to where, +far away behind the mountains, flickered the faint white streamers of +the dawn. Oh, he was very young; very conceited too, no doubt; but is +there anyone who, having lived longer, having seen many bright dreams go +down, having been disillusioned, and having realised that he is but a +particle in an immense machine, would not change places with Gordon, and +see life once more roseflushed with impossible loyalties? + + * * * * * + +In its passage school life seems very long; in retrospect it appears but +a few hours. There is such a sameness about everything. A few incidents +here and there stand out clear, but, as a whole, day gives place to day +without differing much from those that have gone before it. We do not +realise this till we can look back on them from a distance; but it is +none the less true. + +In the Sixth Gordon's scholastic career took the way of all other +fugitive things. It had once given promise of leading somewhere, of +resulting in something, but it wanted more than ordinary perseverance to +overcome the atmosphere of the deep-rooted objection to work that +overhung all the proceedings in the Sixth Form room. And that +perseverance Gordon lamentably lacked. + +The Lower Sixth was mainly under the supervision of Mr Finnemore; and it +was a daily wonder to Gordon why a person so obviously unfitted should +have been entrusted with so heavy a responsibility. Finally he came to +the conclusion that the last headmaster had thought that the Sixth Form +would probably make less fun and take fewer liberties with him than any +other form, and that when the present Chief had come he had not had the +heart to remove a school institution. Mr Finnemore was an oldish man, +getting on for sixty, and his hair was white. He had a long moustache, +his clothes carried the odour of stale tobacco, his legs seemed hung on +to his body by hooks that every day appeared less likely to maintain the +weight attached to them. His face wore a self-depreciatory smile. He was +most mercilessly "ragged." + +The day when he took exams in big school will never be forgotten. Gordon +was then in V.A. The Sixth, the Army class and the Upper Fifth were all +supposed to be preparing for some future paper. All three forms had, of +course, nothing to do. The Chief was in London. + +At four-fifteen Finnemore was observed to be moving in his strange way +across the courts. With an almost suspicious quietness the oak desks +were filled. + +"What are you doing to-day, Lane?" Finnemore asked the head of the +school. + +"I believe, sir, we are supposed to be preparing something." + +"Ah, excellent; excellent, a very good opportunity for putting in some +good, hard work. Excellent! Excellent!" + +For about three minutes there was peace. Then Ferguson lethargically +arose. He strolled up the steps to the dais, and leaning against the +organ loft began to speak: + +"Gentlemen, as not only the Sixth Form, but also the Army class and +Upper Fifth, are gathered here this afternoon with no very ostensible +reason for work, I suggest that we should hold, on a small scale, a +Bacchic festival. This will, of course, be not only entertaining but +also instructive. 'Life consists in knowing where to stop, and going a +little further,' once said H.H. Monro. Let us follow his advice--and +that of the Greeks. First, let us shove the desks against the wall and +make ready for the dance." + +It had all been prepared beforehand. In a few minutes several hundred +books had been dropped, several ink-pots lay smashed on the floor. There +was a noise of furious thunder, and at last all the desks somehow got +shoved against the wall. + +Finnemore was "magnificently unprepared." He lay back nervously in his +chair, fingering his moustache. + +"This must now cease," he said. + +"No, really, sir" protested Ferguson; "everything is all right. Mr +Carter, will you oblige us by playing the piano. I myself will conduct." + +The floor of the big school is made of exquisitely polished oak, and is +one of the glories of Fernhurst. It was admirably suited for the dance +which within five minutes was in progress. It was a noble affair. +Finnemore sat back in his chair powerless, impotent; Carter hammered out +false notes on a long-suffering piano. Ferguson beat time at the top of +the dais, with a pen gently waving between his fingers, as gracefully as +the pierrots of Aubrey Beardsley play with feathers. Down below heavy +feet pretended to dance to an impossible tune. Someone began a song, +others followed suit, and before long the austere sanctity of the room +was violated by the flat melodies of _Hitchy-Koo_. It was indeed an act +of vandalism. But the rioters had forgotten that they were distinctly +audible from without. In the Chief's absence they had thought a row out +of the question. + +Unfortunately, however, "the Bull's" class-room was only a few yards +off. When first he heard the strains of revelling borne upwards he +thought it must be the choir practising for the Christmas concert. But +it did not take long for him to appreciate that such a supposition was +out of the question. The noise was deafening. He could hardly hear +himself talk; investigation must be made. He got up and walked out into +the courts, made his way to the big school, and opening the door +revealed the scene that has just been described. For a second or so he +stood speechless. He felt much as Moses might have felt, if he had seen +a tribe of Gentiles invading the Holy of Holies. Then his voice rang +out: + +"What is the meaning of this unseemly disturbance?" + +A sudden silence fell over the revellers, as in Poe's story of the red +death when the stranger entered the room. + +Buller looked around. + +"My form, the Army class, will follow me." + +Disconsolately his form found their books and moved out of the room, +fully aware that they would shortly have to pay full price for their +pleasure. Over the remainder there fell a chill feeling of uncertainty. +A few spasmodic efforts were made to carry on, but the light-heartedness +was gone. The laughter was forced. Finally noise subsided into +whispering, and whispering into silence and the scratching of pens. + +There loomed before the Sixth Form visions of a very unpleasant +interview with the Chief, and their expectations were not disappointed. +The whole form had to stay back on the last day and write out a Georgic. +Only the Fifth got off scot-free. Macdonald was told to deal with them, +but he saw the humour of the affair too strongly to do anything but +laugh. + +"These Cambridge men--can't keep order. No good at all. Can't think why +the Chief took him." And then, after a pause; "I wish I had been there!" + +The result of this was that for the future Finnemore was treated with a +little more respect. The Sixth decided that dances did not pay, and so +contented themselves with less noisy but little less aggravating +amusements. For instance, Finnemore's hatred of Browning was a byword; +so one day the entire form decided to learn _The Lost Leader_ for +repetition. For a while Finnemore bore it patiently, but when a burly +chemistry specialist walked up to within two feet of him and began to +bawl so loudly that his actual words were distinguishable in the School +House studies, the master covered his face with his hands and murmured: +"Oh, heaven spare me this infliction!" + +On another occasion Betteridge walked quietly up to him, handed him a +Shelley, and without any warning suddenly shrieked out: + + "He hath outsoared the shadow of our night." + +Finnemore looked at him sadly: "My dear Betteridge, so early in the +morning!" + +By many little things his life was made wretched for him. But yet he +would not have chosen any other profession. He had once started life +with very high hopes, but had discovered that the world is not in +sympathy with men of ideas who do not prophesy smooth things. And so at +an early age he found himself disappointed in all his personal aims. It +seemed that he had to harbour only the simplest wish to find it denied. +And then he realised that for the loss of youth there can be no +compensation, and that in youth alone happiness could be found. And so +he had decided to spend his life in company with high hopes and smiling +faces. There were times when an immense sadness came over him, when he +thought that disillusionment was waiting for so many of them and that +there were few who would "carry their looks or their truth to the +grave." But on the whole he was as happy as his temperament could allow +him, and Gordon, although in a sense he was the very antithesis of all +that he admired most, found himself strangely in sympathy with his new +master. One day the subject for an essay was "Conventionality," and +Gordon unpacked his torrid soul in a wild abuse of all existing +governments. After he had written it, he got rather nervous about its +reception, but it was returned marked _a_-, and Finnemore had written at +the bottom: "We all think like this when we are young; and, after all, +it is good to be young." + +Gordon felt that he had found someone who understood him. + +Finnemore lived in two rooms over the masters' common room, which had +from time immemorial been the possession of the Sixth Form tutor, and in +the evenings when Gordon used to have his prose corrected Finnemore +would often ask him to stay behind and have some coffee. Then the two +would talk about poetry and art and life till the broken bell rang out +its cracked imperious summons. Finnemore had once published a small book +of verses, a copy of which he gave to Gordon. They had in them all the +frail pathos of a wasted career; most of them were songs of spurned +affection, and inside was the quotation: "_Scribere jussit amor_." + +"When I look at that book," said Finnemore to Gordon, "I can't associate +myself with the author, I seem to have quite outgrown him. And as I +recall the verses I say to myself, 'Poor fellow, life was hard to you,' +and I wonder if he really was myself." + +With him Gordon saw life from a different angle. He presented the +spectacle of failure, and it rather sobered Gordon's wild enthusiasm, at +times, to feel himself so close to anything so bitterly poignant. But +the hour of youth's domination, even if it be but an hour, is too full +of excitement and confidence to be overclouded by doubts for very long. +Usually Gordon saw in him a pathetic shadow whom he patronised. He did +not realise that it was what he himself might become. + +Through the long tedious hours in the shadowy class-room Gordon dreamed +of wonderful successes, and let others pass him by in the rush for +promotion. He began to think that prizes and form lists were not worth +worrying about; he said a classical education had such a narrowing +effect on character. We can always produce arguments to back up an +inclination if we want to. And in Finnemore there was no force to stir +anyone to do what they did not want. + +Only once a day was Gordon at all industrious, and that was when the +Chief took the Lower and Upper Sixth Form combined in Horace and +Thucydides. + +For the Chief Gordon always worked; not, it is true, with any real +measure of success, for he had rather got out of the habit of grinding +at the classics, but at any rate with energy. And during these hours he +began to perceive vaguely what a clear-sighted, unprejudiced mind the +Chief had. To the boy in the Fourth and Fifth forms any headmaster must +appear not so much a living person as the emblem of authority, the final +dispenser of justice, the hard, analytical sifter of evidence, "coldly +sublime, intolerably just." Gordon had always before looked on the Chief +as a figurehead, who at times would unbend most surprisingly and become +a man; on the cricket field, for example, when in a master's match he +had fielded cleanly a terrific cut at point, and played a sporting +innings; at House suppers, and, most surprisingly of all, when a row was +on, Gordon had been unable to understand him. He could not dissociate +him from his conception of a headmaster--a sort of Mercury, a divine +emissary of the gods, sent as a necessary infliction. Yet at times the +Chief was intensely human, and when Gordon came under his immediate +influence and caught a glimpse of his methods, he saw in a flash that at +all times his headmaster was a generous, sympathetic nature, and that it +was his own distorted view that had ever made him think otherwise. The +Chief was so ready to appreciate a joke, so quick with an answer, so +unassuming, so utterly the antithesis of any master he had met before. + +There were one or two incidents that stood out clearer than any others +in Gordon's memories of his Chief. + +At the very beginning of the term, before a start had been made on the +term's work, the Chief was talking about Horace's life and +characteristics. + +"Now, Tester," he said, "if you were asked to sum up Horace's outlook on +life in a single phrase, what would you say?" + +Tester thought for a minute or so. + +"Let us eat and drink, for to-morrow we die," he hazarded. + +The form laughed. It seemed rather a daring generalisation. But the +Chief's answer came back pat: + +"Well, hardly that, Tester. Shall we say, Let us eat and drink, but not +too much, or we shall have a stomach-ache to-morrow?" + +He had taken Tester's quite erroneous estimate as a basis, and had +exactly hit off Horace's character. + +But the following incident more than any other brought home to Gordon +how extraordinarily broadminded the Chief was. Carter was construing, +and had made a most preposterous howler, it does not matter what. He +had learnt the translation in the notes by heart, and quite failed to +connect it verbatim with the Greek. + +"There now, you see how utterly absurd you are," said the Chief. "You +have not taken the trouble to look the words up in a dictionary. Just +because you see what you think is a literal translation in the notes. +There lies the fatal error of using cribs. Of course when I catch a boy +in Shell or IV. A using one, I drop on him not only for slackness but +dishonesty. The boy is taking an unfair advantage of the rest and +getting promotion undeservedly. But in the Sixth Form you have got +beyond that stage. We don't worry much about marks here, so there is +nothing immoral in using a crib. It is merely silly. It tends to slack +translation which in the end ruins scholarship. And by using the notes +as you do, Carter, you are doing the same thing. You really must use +more common-sense. Go on, please, Harding." + +Gordon was amazed at such a broadminded view of cribbing. He had long +since grown weary of preachers who talked about dishonesty, without +seeming to draw a line between active dishonesty and passive slackness. +The Chief realised that it was deliberate slackness that led to +dishonesty, not dishonesty that was incidentally slack. The Chief must +be a very wise man. + +Nevertheless his admiration of the Chief did not make him do any more +work than was strictly necessary; and Gordon began to drift into a +peaceful academic groove, where he did just enough work to pass +unnoticed--neither good nor bad. He had grown tired of ragging. It was +such an effort, especially when the call of football demanded of every +ounce of energy. To drift down-stream may spell mediocrity, but it also +spells security, and, after all, there was little danger of Gordon +becoming a mediocrity in other branches of school life. He was far too +ambitious for that, but his ambitions were not academic. House politics +and athletics were sufficient burdens for one man in one lifetime. +"Other heights in other lives"; and Gordon believed in doing a few +things well. + +It was more than lucky for Gordon's future that this term he found +himself a success on the football field. If he had not, he would +probably have sought a prominent position in the eyes of the school by +more doubtful paths; but as it was there was no need for him to plunge +into wild escapades to get noticed. His football attracted quite enough +attention. People spoke of his chances of getting into the Fifteen next +year. The Milton match was his greatest triumph, mainly because the rest +of the side did badly. Lovelace played back and made one or two fine +runs when he got the ball, but as a whole the side played very +half-heartedly. Burgoyne was off colour, and Collins's excuse that he +had been overworking lately did not save him from being kicked out of +the side after the match. But Gordon, who had got his Colts' badge on +the morning of the match, and so was relieved of any anxieties about his +place, played what he always said was his best game; so much so, in +fact, that Buller after the match, said: + +"Rotten, absolutely rotten, with the exception of Caruthers, who played +magnificently." + +There was only one blot on his performance, and that, though everyone +laughed about it, caused Gordon some regretful moments afterwards. +Rightly or wrongly Gordon thought the opposite scrum half was not +putting the ball in straight. Gordon told him what he thought of him. +The scrum half called him "a bloody interfering bastard," and told him +to go to hell. The next time the scrum half got the ball Gordon flung +him with unnecessary force, when he was already in touch, right into the +ropes. And from then onwards the relations between Gordon and the scrum +half were those of a scrapping match. Gordon came off best. He got a +bruise on the left thigh, but no one could notice that, while his +opponent had a bleeding nose and a cut lip. The school was amused, but +Gordon overheard a Milton man say: "I don't think much of the way these +Fernhurst men play the game. Look at that tick of a forward there. Dirty +swine!" + +After the game Gordon apologised to the half, and exchanged the usual +compliments; but he could see that the rest of the Milton side were not +at all pleased. + +He spoke to Mansell about it. + +"My dear man, don't you worry. You played a jolly fine game this +afternoon, and if you go on like that you are a cert. for your Firsts +next year. You played a damned hard game." + +"Yes; but it is rather a bad thing for the school, isn't it, if we get a +reputation for playing rough?" + +"But you weren't playing foul, and Buller always tells us to go hard and +play as rough as we like." + +"Yes; but still----" + +He was not quite reassured, though everyone told him it was all right. +However, if "the Bull" made no comment, it looked as if nothing could be +wrong. As a matter of fact, "the Bull" had not noticed; and though +Christy, in a fit of righteous indignation, poured out a long story to +him, he only smiled. + +"Oh, well, I expect he got a bit excited. First time he had played +footer for a school side.... I was a bit fierce my first game for +England. Don't blame him. He's a keen kid, and I am sure the other side +did not mind." + +Christy mumbled indistinctly. No one ever seemed to take much notice of +what he said. That evening, however, he and Rogers, over a glass of +port, agreed that Caruthers was a thoroughly objectionable young fellow +who ought to be taken in hand, and with this Christian sentiment to +inspire him Rogers went home to put a few finishing touches to his +sermon for the next day. + + + + +CHAPTER II: CARNIVAL + + +The tradition of Pack Monday Fair at Fernhurst is almost as old as the +School House studies. The legend, whether authenticated or not only +Macdonald, the historian of Fernhurst, could say, was handed down from +generation to generation. It was believed that, when the building of the +Abbey was finished, all the masons, glass-workers and artificers packed +up their tools and paraded the town with music and song, celebrating the +glory of their accomplished work. And from time immemorial the +townspeople have celebrated the second Monday in October by assembling +outside the Abbey at midnight, and ushering in a day of marketing and +revelry by a procession through the town, beating tin cans and blowing +upon posthorns. With the exception of this ritual, the day had become +merely an ordinary fair. But there was no sleeping on that Sunday night, +and for the whole week tantalising sounds of shrieking merry-go-rounds, +of whistling tramcars and thundering switchbacks were borne across the +night to disturb those who were trying to work in hall. It used to be +the custom for the bloods to creep out at night and take part in the +revels; but when the new Chief had come, four years before, he put a +firm hand upon such abuses, and had even threatened to expel anyone he +found in the act, a threat which he had carried out promptly by +expelling the best half-back in the school a fortnight before the +Dulbridge match; so that now only a few daring spirits stole out in the +small hours of the night on the hazardous expedition. Those courageous +souls were the objects of the deepest veneration among the smaller boys, +who would whisper quietly of their doings in the upper dormitories when +darkness lent a general security to the secrets that were being +revealed. + +This term about three days before Pack Monday, Gordon, Mansell, Carter +and a few others were engaged in their favourite hobby of shipping +Rudd's study. One chair had already gone the way of all old wood, and +the table was in danger of following it, when Rudd suddenly burst out: + +"Oh, you think yourselves damned fine fellows, six of you against one!" + +A roar of laughter went up. It was the traditional complaint of all +weaklings in school stories, and was singularly of the preparatory +school type of defence. + +"Jolly brave, aren't you? I'd like to see any one of you do anything +that might get you into trouble. I don't mind betting there's not one of +you that would dare to come out with me to the fair next Monday." + +There was an awkward pause. The challenge was unconventional; and the +Public School boy is not brought up to expect surprises. The only thing +to do was to pass it off with a joke. + +Lovelace stepped into the breach. + +"Do you think any of us would go anywhere with a swine like you who does +not wash? Dirty hog!" + +"Of course you would not; you are afraid." + +At that point Gordon's hatred of taking the second place, which had +before led him into difficulties, once again asserted itself. "Damn it +all," he thought, "I am not going to be beaten by Rudd!" + +"Do you say we are all funks if we don't go?" + +"Yes!" + +"All right then, damn you, I will go with you, just to show you that you +are not the only person in this rotten school who's fool enough to risk +being bunked." + +Rudd was taken aback. He had made the challenge out of bravado. He had +regretted it instantly. In the same spirit Gordon had accepted the +challenge; he also wished he had not the moment afterwards. But both saw +that they would have to go through with it now. + +"Good man," said Rudd, not to be outdone. "I wanted someone to go with +me; rather lonely these little excursions without company." + +He spoke with the air of one who spent every other night giving +dinner-parties at the Eversham Tap. + +"Look here, now," broke in Mansell, "don't make bloody fools of +yourselves. You will only get the sack if you are caught, and you +probably will get caught; you are sure to do something silly. For God's +sake, don't go. It's not worth it. Really, not!" + +"Oh, shut up; don't panic," was Gordon's scornful answer; "we are going +to have a fine time, aren't we, Rudd?" + +"Splendid," said Rudd, who wanted to laugh; the whole situation was +fraught with such a perfectly impossible irony. + +"Oh, do have some sense, man." Lovelace was impatient with him. "What is +the use of rushing about at midnight in slouch hats with a lot of silly, +shrieking girls?" + +"You can't understand, you live in the country. I am a Londoner. You +want the true Cockney spirit that goes rolling drunk on Hampstead Heath +on Easter Monday." + +"Well, thank God, I do want it, then," said Lovelace. + +Rumour flies round a house quickly. In hall several people came up and +asked Gordon if it was true. They looked at him curiously with an +expression in which surprise and admiration were curiously blended. The +old love of notoriety swept over Gordon once more; he felt frightfully +bucked with himself. What a devil of a fellow he was, to be sure. He +went round the studies in hall, proclaiming his audacity. + +"I say, look here, old chap, you needn't tell anyone, but I am going out +to Pack Monday Fair; it will be some rag!" + +The sensation he caused was highly gratifying. By prayers all his +friends and most of his acquaintances knew of it. Of course they would +keep it secret. But Gordon knew well that by break next day it would be +round the outhouses, and he looked forward to the number of questions he +would get asked. To be the hero of an impending escapade was pleasant. + +"I say, Davenport," he said in his dormitory that evening, "I am going +out to the fair on Monday." + +Davenport said nothing, and showed no sign of surprise. Gordon was +disappointed. + +"Well, what do you think of it?" he said at last. + +"That you are a sillier ass than I thought you were," said Davenport. + +And as Gordon lay thinking over everything in the dark, he came to the +conclusion that Davenport was not so very far wrong after all. + + * * * * * + +Cold and nervous, Gordon waited for Rudd in the dark boot-hole under the +Chief's study on Pack Monday night just before twelve. In stockinged +feet he had crept downstairs, opened the creaking door without making +any appreciable noise, and then waited in the boot-room, which was +filled with the odour of blacking and damp decay. There was a small +window at the end of it, through which it was just possible to squeeze +out on to the Chief's front lawn. After that all was easy; anyone could +clamber over the wall by the V. A green. + +There was the sound of feet on the stairs. It seemed to Gordon as if +they were bound to wake the whole house. Rudd's figure was framed black +in the doorway. + +Silently they wormed their way through the window. The damp soil of a +flower bed was cold under their feet; with his hand Rudd smoothed out +the footprints. + +They stole down the silent cloisters, echoing shadows leered at them. +The wall of the V. A green rose dark and sinister. At last breathless +among the tombstones by the Abbey they slipped on their boots, turned up +coat collars and drew their caps over their eyes. + +A minute later the glaring lights of the booths in Cheap Street engulfed +them. They were jostled in the crowd. It was, after all, only Hampstead +Heath on a small scale. + +"Walk up, walk up! All the fun of the fair! Buy a teazer! Buy a teazer! +Buy a teazer! Tickle the girls! Walk up! Try your luck at the darts, +sir; now then, sir, come on!" + +The confused roar was as music to Gordon's soul. He had the Cockney love +of a fair. The children of London are still true to the coster legends +of the Old Kent Road. + +Gordon and Rudd did not stop long in Cheap Street. The real business was +in the fair fields by Rogers's house. This was only the outskirts. + +The next hour passed in a dream. Lights flared, rifles snapped at +fugitive ping-pong balls leaping on cascades of water, swing-boats rose +heavenwards, merry-go-rounds banged out rag-time choruses. Gordon let +himself go. He and Rudd tried everything. After wasting half-a-crown on +the cocoanuts, Rudd captured first go at the darts a wonderful vase +decorated with the gilt legend, "A Present from Fernhurst," and Gordon +at the rifle range won a beautiful china shepherdess which held for days +the admiration of the School House, until pining perhaps for its lover, +which by no outlay of darts could Gordon secure, it became dislodged +from the bracket and fell in pieces on the floor, to be swept away by +Arthur, the school _custos_, into the perpetual darkness of the dustbin. + +Weary at last, the pair sought the shelter of a small café, where they +luxuriously sipped lemonade. Faces arose out of the night, passed by and +faded out again. The sky was red with pleasure, the noise and shrieks +grew louder and more insistent. There was a dance going on. + +"I say, Rudd, do you dance?" + +"No, not much." + +"Well, look here, I can, a bit; at any rate I am going to have a bit of +fun over there. Let us go on our own for a bit. Meet me here at a +quarter to four." + +"Right," said Rudd, and continued sipping the lurid poison that called +itself American cream soda, and was in reality merely a cheap illness. + +Gordon walked in the direction of the dancing. The grass had been cut +quite short in a circle, and to the time of a broken band the town +dandies were whirling round, flushed with excitement and the close +proximity of a female form. "The Mænads and the Bassarids," murmured +Gordon to himself, and cursed his luck for not knowing any of the girls. +Disconsolately he wandered across to the Bijou Theatre, a tumble-down +hut where a huge crowd was jostling and shouting. + +He ran into something and half apologised. + +"Oh, don't mind me," a high-pitched voice shrieked excitedly. + +He turned round and saw the flushed face of a girl of about nineteen +looking up at him. She was alone. + +"I say," Gordon muttered nervously, "you look a bit lonely, come and +have some ginger beer." + +"Orl right. I don't mind. Give us your arm!" + +They rolled off to a neighbouring stall, where Gordon stood his Juliet +countless lemonades and chocolates. He felt very brave and grown-up, and +thought contemptuously of Davenport in bed dreaming some fatuous dream, +while he was engulfed in noise and colour. This was life. From the stall +the two wandered to the swing-boats, and towering high above the tawdry +glitter of the revel saw through the red mist the Abbey, austere and +still, the School House dormitories stretching silent with suspended +life, the class-rooms peopled with ghosts. + +A plank jarred under the boat. + +"Garn, surely it ain't time to stop yet," wailed Emmie. + +He had gathered enough courage to ask her her name. + +"Have another?" pleaded Gordon. + +"No; let us try the lively thing over there. These boats do make me feel +so funny-like." + +The merry-go-round was just stopping. There was a rush for the horses. +Gordon leapt on one, and leaning down caught Emmie up and sat her in +front of him; she lay back in his arms in a languor of satisfied +excitement. Her hair blew across his face, stifling him; on every side +couples were hugging and squeezing. The sensuous whirl of the machine +was acting as a narcotic, numbing thought. He caught her flushed, tired +face in his hands and kissed her wildly, beside himself with the +excitement of the moment. + +"You don't mind, do you?" he murmured in a hoarse whisper. + +"Don't be so silly; I have been waiting for that. Now we can get +comfy-like." + +Her arms were round his neck, her flushed face was hot on his, her hair +hung over his shoulders. The strains of _You Made Me Love You_ came +inarticulate with passion out of the shrieking organ. Her elbow nudged +him. Her lips were as fire beneath his. The machine slowed down and +stopped. Gordon paid for five extra rounds. Dazed with new and hitherto +unrealised sensations, Gordon forgot everything but the strange warm +thing nestling in his arms; and he abandoned himself to the passion of +the moment. + +At last their time was up. Closely, her hair on his shoulder, they moved +to the dancing circle, and plunged into the throng of the shouting, +jostling dancers. Of the next two hours Gordon could remember nothing. +He had vague recollections of streaming hair, of warm hands, and of +fierce, wild kisses. Lights flickered, shot skywards, and went out. +Forms loomed before him, a strange weariness came over him, he +remembered flinging himself beside her in the grass and burying his face +in her hair. She seemed to speak as from a very long way off. Once more +the dance caught them. Then _Auld Lang Syne_ struck up. Hands were +clasped, a circle swayed riotously. There were promises to meet next +night, promises that neither meant to keep. Rudd was waiting impatiently +at the café. Once more the wall by the Abbey rose spectral, once more +the cloisters echoed vaguely. The boot-hole window creaked. + +As the dawn broke tempestuously in the sky Gordon fell across his bed, +his brain tired with a thousand memories, all fugitive, all vague, all +exquisitely unsubstantial. + + * * * * * + +With heavy, tired eyes Gordon ran down to breakfast a second before +time. He felt utterly weary, exhausted, incapable of effort. People came +up and asked him in whispers if everything had turned out well. He +answered absentmindedly, incoherently. + +"I don't believe you went there at all," a voice jeered. + +Gordon did not reply. He merely put his hand in his pocket and pulled +out the china shepherdess that he was about to place on the rickety +study bracket. + +Doubt was silenced. + +The long hours of morning school passed by on leaden feet; he seemed +unable to answer any question right; even the Chief was annoyed. + +Rain fell in torrents. The Colts game was scratched. + +On a pile of cushions laid on the floor Gordon slept away the whole +afternoon. From four to six he had to write a Greek Prose in his study. +The tea bell scattered his dreams. He rose languidly, with the +unpleasant sensation of work unfinished. + +The row of faces at tea seemed to frighten him. He felt as if he had +awakened out of a nightmare, that still held on to him with cold, clammy +hands, and was trying to draw him back once more into its web. Visions +rose before him of shrieking showmen's booths, blinking with tawdry +yellow eyes. Emmie's hoarse laugh grated on his ears; he was overwrought +and wanted to shout, to shriek, to give some vent to his feelings. But +he seemed chained to the long bench, and his tongue was tied so that he +could only mouth out silly platitudes about the weather and the +Fifteen's chances. + +On his way back to the studies he felt an arm laid in his. He shivered +and turned round, half expecting to see Emmie's flushed, exciting face +peering up at him. He almost sighed with relief when he found it was +Tester. + +"Look here, just come for a stroll round the courts. The rain's stopped. +I want to talk to you." + +They wandered out under the lindens. + +"I suppose you did go out last night, didn't you?" + +"Yes." + +"What on earth did you do it for?" + +"I am sick of the whole affair," Gordon said petulantly. "Rudd called +the lot of us funks, so----" + +"I know that tale quite well," Tester broke in. "I want to know why you +went out. At least I don't mean that. I mean to tell you why you went +out, because I don't think you know yourself. You have made an awful +fool of yourself. You have run the risk of getting sacked, merely +because you wanted to be talked about." + +"I didn't. I went because I was jolly well not going to have Rudd +calling me a funk." + +"Comes to the same thing in the end, doesn't it? You did not want to +play second fiddle; you didn't want Rudd to appear to have scored. You +wanted to be the central figure. Much the same, isn't it? The love of +notoriety." + +Gordon murmured something inaudible. + +"And it is all so damned silly. You are running the risk of getting the +sack, and for nothing at all. I can understand quite well anyone being +drawn into anything dangerous by a strong emotion or feeling. It is +natural. Masters say we should curb our natures. I don't know if they +are right. That's neither here nor there. There was nothing natural in +what you did. It was merely rotten imbecility--your self-consciousness, +your fear of not seeming to have done the right thing. You can't go on +like this. I own that this term you have been more or less sane. The +last two terms I have often wondered what was going to happen to you. +You had no balance; you kept on doing silly little things so as to hold +the attention of a more stupid audience. This term you have stopped that +sort of rot. But what is the use of it going to be, if you go and do +things like this on the impulse of the moment, merely because you don't +want to look silly? You can't think how much more silly you look by +playing the ruddy ass during the small hours inside a stinking booth! +You can't afford to do that sort of thing. Your ambition is to be +captain of the House, and not a bad ambition either. But do you realise +that if you are going to be a real power in the House, if you are going +to fight the masters, as you say you will, you can't afford to fling +away points? You must appear impregnable. Don't be an ass. A master +holds all the high cards. If you play into his hand, he has you done to +the world. Suppose you were caught going out at night your last year, +what would happen? You might get the sack at once; and all your +rebellion would be wasted. And, mark you, a rebellion is wanted. There +is real need of a man who has the strength of his opinions and sticks +out. What's the use of it if you go and get sacked? Of course, they +might keep you on, and ask you to go at the end of the term to save your +face. What would your position be then? You would be bound hand and +foot, powerless to do anything. Life would slip past you. You have got +to be above suspicion. Think, however much you may want to do a thing +now, however much praise you may think an action of yours would get, +stop and consider how it will appear two years hence. A really serious +row might knock you out for the rest of your time here: a bad name +sticks. Remember that. Think of the day when you are going to be a real +power, and stand up for the independence of the individual to think as +he likes, not as Buller likes; for the independence of the House to run +itself. 'The Bull' runs our house to-day. You hear men say, 'We can't do +that, Buller would be sick!' You have to free them of Buller's tyranny, +if you are going to be a man; and if you do, you can't fight in rusty +armour. These masters may be fools, but they have the cards." + +Gordon listened to Tester's flow of words. He was furious. But when at +last lights were put out and he lay back in bed and watched the stars +steadfast in love and splendour, and the moon immutable, enigmatic, +smiling quietly, he appreciated the truth of Tester's argument. A great +battle was before him; he would have to go into it strong and prepared +at every point. There must be no chink in his coat of mail. + +Some day his hour would come; till then he had to wait in patience, and +during the long vigil he would keep his shield clean of rust. He would +have to think, to weigh his decisions, to keep before his eyes the goal +towards which his ambition was set. + + + + +CHAPTER III: BROADENING OUTLOOK + + +Like a huge reel of thread the long winter term unrolled itself. +November drifted by with its gusty winds that shrieked in the empty +cloisters. December came with its dark mornings and steadily falling +rains. The First Fifteen matches were over. Dulbridge and Tonford had +both been beaten handsomely; Mansell had got his Firsts. The Colts drew +at Limborne, and finished their season with an overwhelming victory over +Weybridge. House games began again, and the Thirds and Two Cock became +the only possible topics of conversation. During the first half of the +term Hazelton, as was inevitable, had had to spend nearly all his time +in First Fifteen puntabouts and upper ground games. The House had seen +little of him. But now, with all the big matches over, and only the old +Fernhurstians' match to come on the last Saturday of the term, he had +time to devote all his energies to the training of house sides. If he +had not talked so much he would have been one of the strong, silent +Englishmen. For to all outward appearances he was taciturn, +unimaginative, self-willed. But he had a very nasty tongue, and never +hesitated to use it at the expense of his enemies. As a house captain he +was a distinct success. He knew the game well, and was able to inspire a +keenness that was not jingoistic. He also had the rare virtue of knowing +where to stop. He never made sides play on till they were speechless +with fatigue, as some over-enthusiastic house captains had been known to +do. He was very popular with his sides. + +Every evening before hall there congregated in Gordon's study all the +old faces of his first year, with one or two new ones. Nowhere so easily +as at a Public School does one find oneself drifting apart from an old +acquaintance; not for any real reason, not for any quarrel, but merely +because circumstances seem to will it so. But when the thought of House +matches returned, the old lot came back together to fight their battles +over again, and to dream of the silver cups glittering below the statue +of Edward VI. They were all there: Hunter, who had seemed to pass almost +out of Gordon's life since he had begun to play in the Fifteen; +Mansell, who now spent much of his time with Hazelton; Betteridge, who +was more often than not with Harding. No. 1 Study was very convenient. +Roll was held just outside, and when the prefect's voice was heard +calling the first name the door would be flung open, and still reclining +in arm-chairs they shouted out the immemorial "sum." About five minutes +before the hour of roll-call juniors from the day-room and the farther +studies would begin to collect round the hot pipes in the passage, +fearful of being late. Then in No. 1 Lovelace would wind up the +gramophone, and the strains of _When the Midnight Choo-choo leaves for +Alabama_ broke out with deafening violence. The concert lasted till the +first strokes of the hour had boomed out. Roll over, they all separated +to their various studies. Lovelace took out his _Sportsman_ and began to +total up his winnings; Gordon either lay full length in the hammock, a +new and much envied acquisition which was slung across from door to +window, and read for the hundredth time the haunting melodies of +_Rococo_, or else, as was more usual, wandered round the studies with +the magnificent air of indifference that marked all members of the +Sixth. + +Then came prayers; after which Gordon and Davenport made for the +seclusion of their double dormitory. Lights were out at nine-fifteen for +the big upper dormitories, and till then they used to wander down the +passage for the ostensible reason of getting hot water, but in reality +to watch, with the superior air of Olympians, the life of lesser breeds. +They imagined themselves great bloods during these few minutes after +prayers. Sometimes when the House tutor was supposed to be out they +would join in a game of football in the passage; but as they were caught +once and each got a Georgic, this pastime lost its charm. Usually they +lolled in the doorway with a perfect superiority, and talked of the old +"rags" and discomfitures of two years back, for the benefit of admiring +listeners. + +"Do you remember when Mansell slept in that bed?" Gordon would say. + +"No; I was not here that term," Davenport would reply; "but I sha'n't +forget when the Chief found Betteridge's bed pitched on the floor, with +Betteridge underneath and Lovelace sitting on top." + +Was it possible, thought some small fry, that the great Mansell, who +played for the Fifteen, had once actually slept in the same bed as he +occupied now? Had Betteridge, who had only that night given half the +day-room a hundred lines, once had his bed shipped on that very floor! +It all seemed like a gigantic fairy story. And to think that Caruthers +had seen these things! + +But they were not long, these moments of the assumption of the godhead. +Darkness soon fell on the long passage, and only whispered talking +sounded faint and far away. Gordon and Davenport then went back to their +room, and on evenings after a hard game they had a small supper. They +had managed to discover a loose board, and the floor space caused by its +removal served as a cupboard, a cupboard so damp and unhealthy that the +most lenient sanitary inspector must infallibly have condemned it. Here, +just before afternoon school, they secreted ginger beer bottles, a loaf +of bread, butter, some tomatoes and a chunk of Gorgonzola cheese. In the +morning they carried away the bottles in their pockets. It would have +been much easier and much more comfortable to have had a meal in their +study, but then it would have lacked the savour of romance. The rule +forbidding the importation of food into the dormitories was very strict. +At the end of the term, when both were going to leave that particular +room, they nailed down the board, so that no other marauder should +imitate them. They wished to be unique. But before they did so, they put +in the mouldy cupboard a lemonade bottle and one of the blue Fernhurst +roll-books for the Michaelmas Term, 1913. They underlined their names in +it, and left it as a memento of a few happy evenings. + +"I wonder," said Caruthers, "if years hence someone will pull up that +board and find the book, and seeing our names will wonder who we were." + +"Perhaps," said Davenport. "And, you know, they may try and find out +something about us in back numbers of _The Fernhurstian_, or in the +photographs of house sides. Do you think they will be able to find out +anything about us?" + +"I hope so; but how little we know even of the bloods of 1905, and as +likely as not we sha'n't ever be bloods. It will be rather funny if some +day of all the things we have done nothing remains but the blue +roll-book." + +"Funny?" said Davenport. "Rather pathetic, I should say." + +At fifteen one is apt to be sentimental. + +Perhaps some rude fingers have already torn up that board; perhaps even +now some new generation of Fernhurstians is using it as a receptacle for +tobacco, or cheese, or any other commodity contraband to the +dormitories. But perhaps underneath a board in No. 1 double dormitory +there still repose that identical lemonade bottle and the roll-book with +its blue cover, now sadly faded and its leaves turned up with age, to +serve as Gordon's epitaph, when all his other deeds have perished in +oblivion. + + * * * * * + +There is perhaps nothing that has made so many friendships as a big row, +or the prospect of one. We always feel in sympathy with people whose +aims are identical with our own, and the principals in some big row or +escapade cannot help being bound close together by common ties. A mutual +danger has brought together many ill-assorted pairs, and among others it +showed Gordon and Rudd that they had something in common with one +another. Gordon had always looked upon Rudd as a guileless ass who was +no good at games, did nothing for the House, and was only useful as the +universal provider of cribs. But after the Pack Monday Fair incident +Gordon saw that there was in Rudd a something which, if not exactly to +be admired, came very near it. It was a daring thing to challenge anyone +who was willing to come to the fair with him, and he had not shown the +slightest wish to back out of his agreement. Gordon decided to make his +better acquaintance, and in the process was brought face to face with +another fresh character, a type that was to set before him different +aims and standards. For Gordon was sharp enough to see more or less +below the surface. Rudd was a new type to him. It was clear that he had +some merits, especially pluck; and yet he was no good at games, and, +what was more extraordinary, did not seem in the least worried about his +failures. Gordon had always pitied those who could not scrape into the +Thirds. + +"Poor devils!" he used to say in the arrogance of his own +self-satisfaction. "I expect they tried just as much as we did. And it +must be pretty awful for them to realise that they are no real use at +games at all." + +He had never thought it possible that anyone with the slightest claims +to respectability could be quite indifferent to athletic success. But +Rudd was, after all, a presentable fellow, and yet he did not mind in +the least. + +It was all very strange. + +Only by trying to see the points of view of others do we get any real +idea of the trend of human thought. It is quite useless to start life +with fixed standards, and try to bring everyone to realise their +virtues. We must have some standard, it is true, or we should be as +rudderless boats; but it is of paramount importance that our standards +should be sufficiently elastic to include new movements; and not until +we have tried and weighed in the balance, and considered and sifted the +philosophies of others, should we attempt to form a philosophy for +ourselves. + +By nature Gordon was arrogant and self-satisfied; but by meeting types +different from himself and in their company gaining glimpses of goals +other than his own, his character was undoubtedly broadened, his horizon +extended, and he managed to get things into better proportion. + +For several people just at this time were influencing Gordon. But none +more so than Ferrers. Ever since the Stoics debate Gordon had become a +profound admirer of the new master, who had banged into the cloistered +Fernhurst life, bubbling over with the ideas of the rising generation, +intolerant of prejudice and tradition, clamorous for reform. It was a +great sight to see him walking about the courts. He was nearly always +dressed the same, in his blue woollen waistcoat, soft collar and serge +suit. He never walked anywhere without at least two books under his arm. +He was recognisable at once. If a stranger had glanced round the courts +in break, and had been asked afterwards if any of the masters had +attracted his attention, he might perhaps have mentioned "the Bull's" +powerful roll; with a smile he might have remarked on the prelatical +Rogers, stalking like Buckingham "half in heaven." There were six or +seven he _might_ have noticed, but there was only one person whom he +must have seen, whom he could not possibly have failed to pick out +immediately, and that was Ferrers. Personality was written on every +feature of his face, every movement was typical of youthful vigour and +action. His half-contemptuous swing suggested a complete scorn of +everything known before 1912. He was the great god of Gordon's soul, +greater even than Lovelace major had been, far greater than Meredith. + +As he sat listening to Finnemore discussing artistic questions in form, +he felt wildly impatient to hear Ferrer's opinion. Nothing seemed +settled definitely until Ferrers had spoken, and only the Army and +Matriculation classes had the tremendous advantages of doing English +with him. Most of Ferrer's time was wasted in attempts to drive home +mathematical theories into the dense brain of a lower school set. + +As to his influence in the school there could be no two opinions. The +bloods, of course, were too completely settled in their grooves of +Philistinism and self-worship to feel the force of innovation. But even +on a mild character like Foster's his effect was startling. Ferrer's +great theory was: "Let boys take their own time. The adage that it does +a boy good to do what he hates may be all right for the classics, but it +is no good to try that game with literature. Find out what a boy likes. +Encourage him, show you are in sympathy with his taste, and once in his +confidence gradually lead him step by step to the real stuff. He will +follow you, if you only make out you like what he likes. A boy hates the +superior attitude of 'Oh, quite good in its way, of course.' A master +must get to the boy's level; it is fatuous to try and drag the boy to +his at once." And there is abundant proof to show that this plan was a +success. When Ferrers first came, Foster, for example, read nothing but +Kipling and Guy Boothby. During his last term Gordon found him absorbed +in _Vanity Fair_ and _The Duchess of Malfi_. It would be difficult to +over-estimate the good Ferrers did at Fernhurst. From afar Gordon +worshipped him. He learnt from Foster what Ferrers had read to his form +and what he recommended them to read, and as soon as he could he +borrowed or bought the book. The school book-shop about this time began +to find in Gordon its most generous patron. At times Gordon would tell +Foster to ask Ferrers questions that interested him. And the answers, +usually a little vague and elastic, spurred Gordon on to fresh fields. +His taste was beginning to grow, and football "shop" was no longer his +only topic of conversation. + + + + +CHAPTER IV: THIRDS + + +There was only one thing that at all worried Gordon just now, and that +was the behaviour of the Hazlitt brethren. Mention has already been made +of this couple. During their first few terms they gave every promise of +developing into the very worst types that banality and athletic success +can produce, and these expectations had been abundantly fulfilled. The +elder brother had his points, but they were few, the chief one being +that he was fairly good at games, which, after all, is but a negative +quality. But the younger, who was as useless as he was generally +officious, was entirely devoid of any redeeming feature. His ways were +the ways of a slum child playing in the gutter, and his sense of humour +was limited to shouting rude remarks after other people, knocking off +hats, and then running away. His language was foul enough to disgust +even a Public School's taste. Gordon loathed him. One evening he and +Lovelace discussed the child. + +"Look here," said Gordon, "it's no good, this. That unutterable little +tick Hazlitt knocked off my hat as I was looking at the notice-board +to-day, and I am not going to stand it. By the time I had turned round +he was half-way across the courts." + +"The little swine! He is not fit to be in a decent school. If he can't +get rid of the habits he learnt with street cads in the holidays of his +own accord, he'll have to be kicked out of them. We will wait for him +one day, and if we see him knock a School House straw off, my God, we +will boot him to blazes!" + +"Right you are. It won't be bullying. It will be treating a dirty beast +in the only way he can understand." + +About three days later, from their study window, they saw Hazlitt minor +proceeding to the notice-board after lunch. They left their study and +walked into the cloisters. + +Hazlitt minor read the notices, discovered that, as he was posted on no +game, he must of necessity take himself to the "pick-up," and then +looked round. Davenham was conscientiously perusing a notice, although +there was no likelihood of his own name appearing on any. (It is almost +true to say that nobody looked at the board except the people about whom +there are no notices to read.) There was an announcement four days old +to the effect that C.J. Mansell had been presented with his First +Fifteen colours. Davenham seemed to find it vastly interesting. Hazlitt +stole up behind, and knocked his hat flying across the cloister. In a +second Gordon and Lovelace were on him. They did not care in the very +least what happened to Davenham. He played no part in their life. But a +School House man had been "cheeked" by a filthy little outhouse swab. +These aliens had to be taught their place. + +"What do you mean by that, you awful tick?" shouted Lovelace. "Davenham, +go and fetch a hockey stick from Tester's study." + +Hazlitt let out with his feet and caught Gordon on the ankle, but the +horrible hack he got in return quieted him. + +Davenham appeared with a hockey stick. + +Gordon managed to get Hazlitt's head between his knees, and Lovelace +began to give that worthy a beating he was never likely to forget. In a +few minutes he was blubbering for mercy. Fletcher passed by. + +"Here you are, Archie," yelled Gordon; "come and have a shot at this +swine Hazlitt; we are teaching him that he can't go about knocking off +School House hats with impunity." + +"Right you are, my lads." + +By the time Archie had finished, Hazlitt had almost collapsed. Gordon +let him go, and with a hefty boot sent him flying into the cloisters. + +"I don't think we shall have any more of him for a bit," said Lovelace, +with satisfaction. + +"No; these outhouse lads want showing their place from time to time. The +School House, after all, is _the_ place. We are like Rome, the mother +city; the other outhouses are merely provinces of ours. Jolly good of us +to let them use our buildings at all. Come and change; we have done a +good deed, my friends." + +But the matter did not end there. That evening in Buller's dormitories +Hazlitt told a story of how Caruthers had been bullying him for no +reason, and hacking him till he could hardly sit down. He left out +Lovelace's name, because Lovelace was popular with the Buller's crowd. +News of this reached Felston, the second prefect. He fumed with rage, +and sought Gregory, the Buller's house captain. + +"Have you heard the latest? That swine Caruthers has been bullying +Hazlitt. He drove him all round the cloisters, hitting him with a hockey +stick." + +"Good God, the swine! Did he really! My word, I'll lay him out in the +Three Cock. You wait, that's all. When he plays in the Three Cock, I'll +lay him out for dead in the first ten minutes." + +In due course this story found its way to the Buller's day-room, where +was great rejoicing. So Caruthers was going to be laid out, was he? How +damned funny! Hazlitt's heart leapt within him. His evil little mind +pictured Gordon being carried off the field, absolutely smashed up. He +gloated. + +Gordon laughed when he heard of it. + +"Oh, well, at any rate I shall have my shot at them first in the Thirds +and Two Cock." + +He was secretly rather pleased to see that even his enemies had not the +slightest doubt about his getting a place in the Three Cock. A House cap +was just then his great ambition. But for all that he suffered +considerable annoyance. Whenever he went up to the tuck-shop a voice +from the Buller's doorway croaked: "Wait for the Three Cock!" + +At first it was rather amusing. But soon it got distinctly tiresome. +Deep in his heart he cursed the tick Hazlitt and the whole Buller crowd. +A joke could be carried to an extreme. And it slowly dawned on him that, +if he did play in the Three Cock, he was in for a remarkably thin time. + +Almost the last words he heard as the eight-forty swept out of Fernhurst +station on the last morning, with its waving hands and shoutings, was a +shriek from the Buller's day-room: "Wait for the Three Cock!" Gordon +laughed for a second, and then looked bored. The jest had ceased to have +a shred of humour left upon it. It was naked and ought to be ashamed. + +The Easter term opened in the conventional way with rain, slush and +influenza. The fields were flooded, the country a lake; the bare +branches dripped incessantly. But for all that the first round of the +Thirds began on the first Saturday. + +Buller's drew Rogers's. There was no doubt as to the result. It would be +a walk-over for Buller's, though Burgoyne might get over the line once +or twice. + +There was a crowd in front of the pavilion. + +"Well, do something, at any rate," said Gordon. "Don't let Buller's get +above themselves. You keep them in order." + +"Oh yes, we'll sit on them!" laughed Burgoyne. "By the way, I think it +would be rather a good scheme to lay out Hazlitt minor, don't you?" + +Never did any forward in any house match at Fernhurst take the field +without the sworn intention of laying out some hated opponent. +Nevertheless during the whole time Gordon was at school only one boy was +hurt so badly that he had to leave the field. And that was an accident. +He broke his collar-bone, falling over by the goal-posts. It had become +almost a custom to state whom you were going to lay out before the +match. The idea sounds brutal, but it never led to anything. Gordon knew +this as well as anyone. + +"Good man! And look here, if you do, I'll give you a bob." + +"A bargain?" + +"Of course." + +"Right, my lad. We will have a good supper to-night in my study." + +The match followed the ordinary course. Frenzied juniors rushed up and +down the touch-line inarticulate with excitement; the bloods, strolling +arm in arm, patronised the game mildly. Buller's won very easily. +Hazlitt played quite decently and scored once. Burgoyne went +supperless. + +The second and third rounds were played; everywhere Buller's triumphed. +No house was beaten by less than forty points. Not a try was scored +against them. Christy's, who had lost by forty-four points to nil, had, +as the least unsuccessful house, the doubtful honour of joining forces +with Buller's to play the School House in the final. + +The betting was fairly even. Buller's thought they would win; the House, +as usual, was certain of victory. The school expected a level game, and +on the whole wanted to see a School House win. Buller's had had too much +success of late years; and envy was inevitably at work. + +The selection of the combined outhouse side caused a lot of +consideration. There was once an idea of playing Hazlitt minor, but much +to the annoyance of the House this plan was, from the outhouse point of +view, wisely dropped. And now Jack Whitaker--he was always known as +Jack--enters the story. + +Jack was a very decent sort of kid, much (in the School House +estimation) above the standard of Buller's day-room. He was a little +rowdy and ostentatious, but had the justification of being really good +at something. He was a promising half-back, and his cricket was so good +that there was talk of his getting a trial for the School Eleven. Gordon +and he got on rather well. But he was very young; under fifteen, in +fact, and very impetuous. + +About a week before the Thirds "the Bull" was discussing the match in +the dormitories. Jack was very full of words. + +"I say, sir, isn't it awfully lucky for Hazlitt that he is not playing?" + +"The Bull" was surprised. Only that evening he had been talking with +Hazlitt, and telling him how sorry he was that there was no place for +him in the side. + +"Why, Jack? I don't know what you mean." + +"Oh, well, you see, sir, all the School House fellows had sworn to lay +him out!" + +"You must not talk like that, Jack. It is not sporting. And it stirs up +ill feeling in the school. You can't honestly believe that any gentleman +would play a game in that spirit. You have no proof of what you say +except mere rumour, I suppose. You mustn't talk like that." + +"The Bull" was not at all pleased, and walked away to turn out the +light. Whitaker saw he had gone too far and had said more than he meant +to. But he couldn't stand the idea that "the Bull" should think he had +been repeating merely idle chatter. + +"But, sir, I know for certain that in the Christy's match the School +House men were offering money to Christy's to lay Hazlitt out." + +Buller stopped with his hand on the gas-tap. + +"That is a very serious accusation, Jack. Are you telling me that any +Fernhurst boys so lack sportsmanlike feeling as to bribe boys in other +houses to lay out their rivals, so that it will be easier for them to +win." + +"Oh, sir, I don't think that they meant that." + +"Well, you said it, at any rate." + +The gas went out suddenly. "The Bull" strode out without saying +good-night. In his study he turned over in his mind the extraordinary +story he had heard. If what Jack had told him was the truth, Fernhurst +football, which was to him, and to many others, the finest thing in the +world, had become little better than league professionalism. Bribes were +being offered for men to be laid out. He had never heard of such a +thing. There was no one to remind him that the offering of bribes means +little to a schoolboy, and the mere talk of "laying people out" still +less. It is all a question of custom, of the sense in which phrases are +used by the particular speakers who use them. + +There are certain words which to-day are vulgar and disgusting, but +which in the days of Shakespeare would have been used in any company +without a blush. And this is so merely because time has given the words +a different significance. Indeed, from the point of view of the average +person, to leave schoolmasters out of the question, the idea of offering +bribes to lay out athletes is revolting. And so it is. It is +unsportsmanlike, unworthy of English traditions. But when Gordon offered +Burgoyne a shilling to lay out Hazlitt, although he said it was a +bargain, he meant nothing at all by his offer. He knew that Burgoyne, +once he got on the field, could think of nothing but the game, and would +forget all about Hazlitt and himself. Everyone offered bribes, but no +one had been known to receive a penny of them. Still, Buller could not +be expected to know this. He saw in the affair a menace to the future of +Fernhurst sport. Jack's story might be only idle chatter, or it might +have some foundation. At any rate he had got to go to the bottom, and +sift out the truth for the good of Fernhurst. + +After evening chapel on the Sunday before the match the Chief sent for +Gordon; when Gordon arrived he found Harding, the head of the House, +there too. The Chief looked worried. There was a row in prospect. Gordon +racked his brain to think of anything that could possibly have been +found out about him. Of course there were many old troubles that might +have been raked up. He had always realised that the hand of the past +would still be near the shoulder of the present. Yet, what had he been +doing recently? + +"Isn't Hazelton coming, Harding?" The Chief was speaking. + +"Yes, sir; but I believe he is collecting chapel cards." + +Hazelton too. Complications, forsooth. There was an awkward pause. Then +Hazelton came in, quite at his ease. + +"Sir, the chapel cards; and I believe you wanted to see me, sir?" + +"Ah, yes, Hazelton; put the cards on my desk. Now, Caruthers, I want to +ask you a question before the head and captain of the House that I hope +you will answer truthfully. Did you offer a boy in Mr Christy's house +money to 'lay out,' I believe that was the phrase, a boy in Mr Buller's +house in the recent house match." + +Gordon thought for a moment. Had he? It was quite likely he had; but he +could not remember. Then the scene came back. The crowd in front of the +pavilion. Burgoyne: Hazlitt in the offing. + +"Yes, sir," he replied, after the instant's hesitation. + +"You seem rather doubtful about it." + +"Well, sir, I was trying to remember whether I had or not." + +The Chief was nettled by such apparent callousness. + +"You talk as if you were in the habit of offering such rewards. Are +you?" + +"Well, sir, it is the sort of thing any fellow might do." + +"That is neither here nor there. I doubt the truth of your statement +very much. But even if the school had become so generally demoralised as +you suggest, that would not be any excuse for you. As a matter of fact, +how much did you offer the boy?" + +"A shilling, sir." + +"Was that a genuine offer, now? If he had done what you wanted him to, +would you have paid him?" + +Gordon was now well out of his depth. Explanation seemed impossible. Had +the offer been genuine? He supposed it had. If the tick had been laid +out, Gordon would have been so delighted that he would have stood the +whole of Christy's drinks all round. + +"Yes, sir," he said quite cheerfully. + +A smile that rose to Hazelton's lips was instantly suppressed. + +"Ah! rather like hiring assassins in the cheap novelettes. What was your +idea? Did you think Hazlitt would have been a help to the School side?" + +"No, sir. I hardly think he would have been of much assistance to them." + +The idea of Hazlitt being of any use to anyone was very amusing. Gordon +always saw the funny side of everything. As a ghost, he would probably +have found something cynically amusing in his own funeral. + +"Then you did it merely out of spite, I suppose. Do you consider that +the football field is a suitable opportunity for the paying-off of old +scores?" + +Now, suppose Gordon had poured out the story of how Felston had sworn to +lay him out in the Three Cock, and how Hazlitt and others had flung the +words "Three Cock" into his face for half a term, it would have been +certainly an extenuation. But he realised that Hazelton was present. It +would not be the proper thing, it would indeed be unpardonable cheek, +for him to talk in the presence of the House captain as though his +chances of playing in the Three Cock were to be taken for granted. It +would be madness to imperil his chances on the football field, merely +because he wanted an excuse for a silly little row. + +And so he did not answer. + +"Well, Caruthers, I sha'n't want you any more. Thank you for being so +frank in the matter. As far as I can see, it is the only extenuating +circumstance. Harding, Hazelton, one minute." + +Gordon returned to the studies amused rather than disconcerted. He quite +saw that the Chief, with his high ideals, would refuse to allow two +blacks to make a white, even if that black were of the grey-black shade +of which colour boys were allowed to get their school suits made, and +which produced anything from light grey to dark brown. He understood and +respected the Chief's point of view entirely. But with "the Bull" he was +furious. No one but "the Bull" could have reported him; and, "the Bull" +after all, was an old Fernhurstian. He knew the school customs, and +unless his memory was decaying, must have remembered the wild way in +which boys boast. He must have known it; but "for the sake of +Fernhurst," Buller would say, "this leprosy has to be rooted out." +Gordon began to wonder whether it was really a love of Fernhurst that +was his standard for all actions, or simply a supreme egotism, which +embraced alternately his own interest, his house's interest, and +Fernhurst's interest, but never, under any circumstances, never the +School House interest! + +Hazelton thought much the same. At the Chief's request he made a +characteristic speech to the House after prayers. + +"Someone who imagines himself a sportsman, and who refuses to disclose +his name, but whose identity we can only guess at, has been making some +silly remarks about certain play and behaviour in the House. Of course +that is all rot. But people have strange ideas, especially those in +authority, and we have to be very careful. So for heaven's sake don't go +shouting out that you are going to lay everyone out. It only means a +row, and, after all, you can do it just as well without talking about +it." + +There was a roar of laughter; the old system survived. + +Next morning in break Gordon passed Buller on his way to the tuck-shop. +"The Bull" cut him dead. + +The day after, the Chief having made up his mind on the matter, told +Gordon that his Sixth Form privileges had been taken away. + +Before a large crowd, in full view of Chief's study window, Gordon that +afternoon burnt his straw hat with the Sixth form ribbon on it, and +stood over the smouldering ashes proclaiming in tragic tones: "The glory +has departed from Israel." His old passion for a theatrical piece of +rodomontade was not yet subdued. + + * * * * * + +For a short time Gordon was rather worried about "l'affaire Hazlitt," as +Tester called it. But he soon forgot it entirely in the excitement of +the approaching match. Everyone talked about it; there was no other +topic of conversation. The night before the match Lovelace could not sit +still for a minute. He strode up and down the study murmuring to +himself: "We can't lose; we can't; we can't!" Someone looked in to ask +if he was going to prepare the Livy. + +"Livy?" he gasped. "Who could do any work the night before a house +match?" + +The someone retired discomforted. + +"You know it's absurd," Lovelace went on, "for a master to imagine +anyone could do work when the house matches are on. The other day +Claremont had me up and asked me why my work had been so bad lately. I +told him that the house matches were so exciting that I could not +concentrate my mind on anything else. He looked at me vacantly and said: +'Well, are they really? I don't know whom they excite; they don't excite +me.'" + +"Dear old poseur; he's keen enough on his own house," Gordon answered +drowsily from the depths of the hammock, in which he had almost fallen +asleep. He felt incapable of thought. For weeks he had looked forward to +the match, and now it was so close he felt strangely languorous, tired +in brain and body. + +Rain fell steadily all night, and though it cleared off about break, the +ground was already under water. It was a cold, gusty day. + +By lunch the whole House was unbalanced. There was much loud laughter, +then sudden silences; an atmosphere of restlessness lay over everyone. +Very slowly the minutes dragged by. Gordon sat silent in a far corner of +the pavilion. At last the whistle blew, the magenta and black jerseys +trailed out on to the field. A cheer rose from the line. + +The next hour passed in a whirl of white jerseys, gradually turned black +with mud, of magenta forms dashing on to the School forwards, of wild, +inarticulate black insects bawling on the touch-line. The pervading +impression was mud. Everything was mud; he was mud, the ball was mud. +Lovelace was indistinguishable. His own voice leading the scrum seemed +strangely unreal. There was a vague feeling of disquiet when, early in +the first half, he found himself standing under the posts, while the +Buller's half placed the ball for Whitaker to convert. Nothing tangible; +then the disquiet passed, the magenta jerseys swept forward, dirty white +forms came up and went down before them. Morgan rolled over the line. A +kick failed. Half-time came, Hazelton came on, and said a lot of things +to him, which he answered unconsciously. + +A whistle blew. Once more the magenta jerseys swept everything before +them. There seemed no white jerseys at all. Numberless times he watched +Lovelace taking the place kick. He thought he heard Mansell shrieking: +"Heave it into them! Well done! Now you've got them!" Once he had a +sensation of kicking the ball past the halves; he seemed clear, the +full-back rushed up and fell in front of him, the ball stopped for a +second, then rolled on. He heard someone coming up behind him; the line +grew dimly white under his feet; he fell on the ball; there was a roar +of cheering. The whistle went in short, sharp blasts. The game was over. + +And then he realised that the House had won, that his hopes were +satisfied, that the Buller crowd had been routed, that the cup would +shimmer on the mantelpiece. A wave of wild exultation came over him. The +House poured over the touch-line, yelling and shouting. It was all "a +wonder and a wild desire." + +Then came the glorious reaction, "the bright glory of after battle +wine." The tea in the tuck-shop. They were out of training. Then the +perfect laziness of lying full-length in his hammock, talking of the +splendid victory. Then came the House tea. It was much like the Roman +triumph. The whole House sat in their places ten minutes before six. +Tablecloths were removed; everyone took down heavy books, boots, sticks. +Then when the Abbey struck six, Lovelace led the side into hall, up to +the dais, to the Sixth Form table. Everyone shouted, roared, beat the +tables. Dust arose. It was very hard to breathe. The Chief came and made +a speech. There was more shouting, more shrieking, more beating of +tables. + +At last hall came with its gift of real rest. Gordon lay in the hammock, +Lovelace reposed with his feet on the table. Everyone came in to +congratulate them. Hazelton invited them in second hall to supper in the +games study; the gramophone played rag-time choruses. Gordon sang all of +them. Everyone was gloriously, unutterably happy. + +Meredith sent a wire: "Well done, House: now for the Two Cock." + +In the dormitory Hazelton was talking over the match. + +"By Jove, when that side is the Three Cock, we shall win by fifty +points. Lord, I do envy you, Caruthers! You will see the day, and be in +at the finish. I shall only shout from the touch-line." And he added: +"My God, I shall shout, too." + +There was nothing to mar the extreme joyousness of life. The world lay +at Gordon's feet. He had only to stoop to pick it up. + + + + +CHAPTER V: DUAL PERSONALITY + + +The Two Cock was always played a fortnight after the Thirds, and during +that fortnight the outhouses had to play off among themselves three +preliminary rounds. For them it was a remarkably strenuous time. The two +best outhouses sides had, in fact, to play four house matches in twelve +days. But it was possible for the School House to take things easily for +at least half a week. And these three days out of training meant a lot +to Gordon and others, who would have to play not only in the Two Cock, +but most probably in the Three Cock as well. It prevented staleness; +and staleness was the great danger that all outhouse sides had to face. + +The week after the Thirds was regarded as a fairly slack time +before the strenuous week that culminated in the Two Cock. There +would probably be only one game--on the Saturday; and that a short +quarter-of-an-hour-each-way affair. It was usually a quite uneventful +time. This term, however, an occurrence took place that had a big effect +on the growth of Gordon's character. + +Finnemore had caught influenza; the Chief had to go for a week to +Oxford. The Sixth was at a loose end. Various masters took it in various +subjects, or at least were supposed to. Most of the week was spent in +the studies, as the master in charge forgot to turn up. + +One afternoon, Ferrers was to take them in English. But Ferrers was +engaged in writing an article on the "New Public School Boy" for _The +Cornhill Magazine_, and wanted to be quiet. He sent the form to their +studies to write an essay on a typical Ferrers subject: "Poetry is in +the first instance the outpouring of a rebel." It had to be shown up by +six o'clock. + +Gordon revelled in it. During the long afternoon he poured out his +fierce soul. His life was now a strange paradox. Half the time he +thought of poetry, worshipping any sort of rebellion against the +conventional standards of living. At other times he was like the +ordinary Philistine, blindly worshipping games, never seeing that they +led nowhere, and were as a blind alley. This afternoon Gordon forgot +everything but Swinburne, Byron, Rossetti, and the poets of revolt. He +stigmatised Wordsworth as a doddering old man, not knowing that his +return to nature was the greatest revolution in English literature. In a +text-book he saw Shelley described as a rebel. He got a copy of his +works out of the library, but found little there resembling the work of +his own favourite. However, he quoted a verse out of _O World, O Life, O +Time!_ and decided to search more deeply later on. The bulk of the essay +was a glowing eulogy of _The Hymn to Proserpine_ and _Don Juan_. It was +very dogmatic, very absurd in parts, but it had the merit of enthusiasm, +and, at any rate, showed a genuine appreciation of a certain class of +literature. + +Well satisfied, he made his way across to the Sixth Form room, and found +Ferrers gazing at a pile of papers, as Hercules must have gazed at the +Augean stables. + +"Um," said Ferrers, "who are you?" + +"Caruthers, sir. I have brought you the essay you set the Sixth." + +"Right; let's have a look at it; hope it is better than the stuff I have +just been reading." + +"Yes, yes, um--ah," he murmured to himself, as he read on. There was +clearly some hankering after style, some searching for an idea. Ferrers +dearly wanted to smile at the attack on Wordsworth, and the comparison +between Swinburne and Milton (whom Gordon had never read), all in favour +of the Pre-Raphaelite. But he knew that it would be a fatal thing to do; +it would seem superior; the master must come down to the boy's level. He +read on to the end of the wild, sprawling peroration. + +"Not bad stuff, Caruthers, not bad at all. Far and away better than +anything I have so far struck. I must talk to you again about this; I am +glad you love Byron; I do myself; people run him down--fools, that is. +You stick to Byron, he is all right. And don't despise the rest too +much. Have a shot at Keats and Shelley. They are not so powerful, but +good all the same, very fine stuff.... Try _The Pot of Basil_. Must rush +off now. Are you in training? No! Not yet. Right. Come up to tea +to-morrow. Good-night." + +And thus began a friendship that was the most permanent in Gordon's +school career. + +Every Friday he used to climb up the hill past Rogers's house, and step +out down the white London road to Ferrers's cosy little home. Over a cup +of tea he read an essay. Ferrers would lie back listening, and then +discuss it with him. He sometimes blamed the actual expression of it, +but he never found fault on questions of taste. He let Gordon browse at +will in the fields of English literature; he suggested books he thought +Gordon would like; he did not try to rush him on. There was heaps of +time; he would let Gordon develop on his own lines. + +From these evenings Gordon derived a pleasure that he found it hard to +explain. He was thankful to get away from the footer talk, the +inevitable intrigues, scandals, all in fact that went to form the daily +curriculum. The world of ideas was far more attractive. Ferrers, +although himself a quarter-mile Blue, looked upon games as a recreation, +and upon school life as a mud-heap that had to be washed clean. Poetry, +drama, the modern novel, these were what Ferrers loved; and Gordon was +glad to find someone who thought like this. He felt uplifted after his +talks with Ferrers, he walked back to the House buoyant, as it were on +wings. Then as the school gates rose before him, and he heard the sound +of a football bouncing in the court, the old routine caught him once +more. He plunged into the old life with the same zest. He devised a new +scheme for avoiding work, thought out an idea for teaching forwards to +heel, laughed, discussed athletics and was well content. He tried to +analyse his feelings, but could not. He was now two separate persons. At +times he was the dreamer, the lover of art and poetry; at another the +politician, the fighter who lived every minute of his life deeply to the +full, with one fixed aim before him. Gordon wondered if this apparent +paradox in himself was in any way an answer of the enigma that an +artist's life so frequently was utterly different from the broad +outlines of his work. Browning had talked of a man having "two +soul-sides." Had he two soul-sides, one for the world, the other for +art--and Ferrers? But then Browning had spoken contemptuously of the +"one to face the world with." Surely games were as good as poetry? Or +weren't they, after all? He felt an unanswerable doubt, and at such +times of introspection he would stop trying to think and merely let +himself be carried on in whatever course fortune chose to bear him. And +so the Jekyll and Hyde business went on. + + + + +CHAPTER VI: THE GAMES COMMITTEE + + +In the mud and the rain the School House Two Cock team, coming up early +from a puntabout, joined the crowd watching the last stages of the +Buller's _v._ Claremont's house match, and cheered Claremont's to the +echo. It was a remarkably fine game. When "no side" was called, the +score was nine all. Extra time was played, and just before the close, +amid great enthusiasm, a limping Claremont's forward fell over the line +from the line out. None shouted louder than the School House contingent. +Everyone had grown tired of the Buller's domination. They had been +successful too long. For two years they had not lost a single house +match. The Thirds had been their first reverse; but even then they had +triumphed over all their outhouse opponents. This was the first +occasion, since Gordon had been at Fernhurst, that the Buller's colours +had been lowered by an outhouse side. It signified the breaking up of +their rule. Gordon shouted like the Vengeance following the tumbrils. He +roared loudly under "the Bull's" nose, stamped off the field to tea, +without a thought of the effect that his demonstration might have had +upon "the Bull" himself. + +As it happened, to "the Bull" the incident meant a lot. + +"What is the reason of it?" he said to Felston that evening. "How have I +made these School House men, and especially Caruthers, hate me? They +seem to delight in the defeat of my house. Of course, I can understand +their wanting their house to beat mine, but why should they worry so +much about Claremont's doing so? I can't understand it; and Caruthers +will be leading the school scrum in two years. We must not have bad +feeling between the houses. Honest rivalry is all right; but there seems +so much spite about it all nowadays. It was not so when I was a boy, and +it wasn't so three years ago. I don't understand." + +A climax was reached in the Two Cock, a match rendered famous in +Fernhurst history by the amazing refereeing of a new master named +Princeford, who had come as a stop-gap for one term. The match was +played in the mud and slush, and was entirely devoid of incident. The +play rolled from one end of the ground to the other. Archie performed +prodigies of valour; Gordon did some brilliant things; Collins was quite +fierce; but good football was impossible under the circumstances. Early +in the first half, amid tremendous cheering, Lovelace scored a fine try, +by the touch-line. There was no doubt about it. The school lined up +behind the posts. But Princeford would have none of it. He came up, +fussing and important: + +"No try, there. Knock on. Scrum!" + +A gasp went up from both sides. Was the man blind? + +"What is the fool talking about?" thundered Gordon. + +Princeford was round in a second: "Who said that?" + +Gordon stepped forward. + +"Ah, I shall remember you." + +The game continued; the outhouses amazed at such luck; the School House +sullen and indignant. The play developed into a series of forward rushes +resulting in nothing. It was an amazingly dull game to watch. From one +of these rushes Gordon got clear; the full-back fell on the ball, Gordon +took a huge kick at the ball. One had to kick hard on such a sticky +ground. He missed the ball, and caught the back on the side of the head. + +"Oh, damned sorry," he said. + +It was quite unintentional, as would have been obvious to anyone who +knew anything about the game. No one would be fool enough to kick the +man, when by kicking the ball he might score a try. But Princeford was +on Gordon like a shot. He began to lecture him before all the masters on +unsportsmanlike play, and threatened to send him off the field. Gordon +glowered at him. It was a combat of temperaments. The game resulted in a +draw. No try was scored. It was a dull performance, occasionally +relieved by individual brilliance. Everyone was disappointed. + +Sullen and silent, the House side trooped up to tea. They had won the +match, of that there was no doubt. And they had been done out of their +victory. + +The limit was reached when, muddy and cold, they found that the new +boot-boy had forgotten to heat the boiler, and there was only cold water +to wash in. + +The changing-room was filled with the sound of oaths and curses. + +But when the effects of Princeford's refereeing and the boot-boy's +forgetfulness had worn off slightly, the House felt more content. After +all, they had not been beaten. They had got the cup for half the year at +any rate. Things might be worse. And when in hall that night Hazelton +gave him his House cap, all Gordon's rage was overwhelmed by the feeling +that his dearest object had been achieved. The boot-boy was forgiven; +Princeford faded into the background of insignificance from which he had +temporarily emerged. + +But the matter did not end there: other fingers were itching to be in +the pie. Christy and Rogers, walking up from the field together, came to +the conclusion that that incorrigible nuisance Caruthers had disgraced +Fernhurst football. Princeford was a master from Sedbury; he had only +come for one term as a special concession, because his headmaster was a +great friend of the Chief. What sort of an impression would he carry +away of Fernhurst manners and sportsmanship, if Caruthers should be +allowed to go unpunished, not only for playing a deliberately foul game, +but also for using most foul language? And so these two, neither of whom +knew anything about football, while both were immensely aware of their +own importance, made their way to "the Bull's" study to pour out their +grievances. "The Bull" was laid up with influenza, and had been +prevented from watching the match. They found him lying on his sofa. For +over an hour they elaborated the tale of Gordon's misconduct. + +They pointed out that the object of house matches was to promote a +keenness in school football, and to provide interest for those who were +not good enough to get into the school team. The School House had for +years during the Easter term isolated itself from the rest of the +school. It had considered itself as apart, a school in itself. Such an +attitude militated against _esprit de corps_; it made the house appear +more important than the school. It led to bad feeling between houses. In +Caruthers were developed all the worst faults of this system. His +keenness for his house had so far drowned his affection for his school +that he used any tactics to reach his end. He took defeat in an +unsportsmanlike manner. This afternoon's play had made this clear. And +what was worst of all was that Caruthers had a sufficient personality to +attract others. "Moths are always attracted by the flame," said Rogers +pompously. If Caruthers were dealt with effectively at once, this +poisonous School House notion of its own importance would collapse. Was +it going to be put an end to? That was the question they put to Mr +Buller; and they took over an hour in putting it. + +"The Bull" listened to all they had to say, and as soon as they began +repeating themselves, and he realised they had given all the information +they could, told them he had now to dress for dinner, but that he would +consider the matter carefully and let them know his opinion later on. +Like two obsequious courtiers before an Eastern monarch, Rogers and +Christy bowed themselves out, inarticulate with advice and last words. + +"The Bull" smiled. He was too big a man to be taken in by such obvious +hypocrisy. These men amused him greatly, especially because they both +thought he took them seriously. But, for all that, he saw that there was +a good deal of truth in what they had said. He wished he had been at the +game himself. It was so hard to form an estimate on the strength of +partial onlookers. Princeford's refereeing might have been exasperating; +but, damn it, even if it had, a sportsman should not make a fuss about +it! It was all part of the game. But Caruthers did not treat a House +match as a game, but as the real business of life. That was what +rankled. Caruthers would laugh when he dropped a catch in a Colts match, +or missed his collar on the upper; but in a House match his face would +be set, his eyes wide and eager. Humour had for the moment ceased to +exist, as far as he was concerned. He clearly preferred his house to his +school. Was he stirring up any feeling between the outhouses and the +School House? He remembered an occasion terms back when Gordon in a +House game had shouted out: "Let the swine have it." Then, again, there +was that affair of bribing Burgoyne to lay out one of his men. And then +the incident this afternoon. Outwardly he was doing his very best to +separate the interests of his house from those of the school, to split +Fernhurst into two factions. But supposing, after all, these were merely +outward signs, supposing Gordon's excessive keenness, coupled with the +rash hotheadedness of youth, led him where his cooler judgment would +have checked him. If that were so, and if strong measures were taken, +might not his keenness change into a hatred of Fernhurst, might it not +lead him to open antagonism with the rest of the school? Punishment +might merely inflame and not crush him, while if his feelings were only +the natural effervescence of youth, they would wear down in time, and +then all would be well. Yet he realised that it is the things which show +that count in this world, a man is judged not by what he is, but by what +he appears to be. Everything pointed to the belief that Gordon was +working against the interests of Fernhurst; whether he actually meant to +do so or not was immaterial. He had to be dealt with as if it was +deliberate. It might be hard on him, but it was not the interests of the +individual, but of the community, that had to be considered. + +"The Bull" sent for Akerman, the school captain, after chapel on Sunday +morning. + +"Akerman, I want to speak to you about Caruther's behaviour in the Two +Cock yesterday afternoon. Of course, I did not see what happened, but +from what I have heard I think measures ought to be taken. It is a +serious matter. Light measures are no good. I know Caruthers; you have +got to crush him, or he will laugh at you. I think what is required is a +thrashing from the Games Committee. He is bound to be awed by the +disapproval of a body representing Fernhurst football. I suppose now +that the Games Committee wouldn't raise any objection? What about +Hazelton?" + +"Well, sir, Hazelton went to the matron last night, and they discovered +he had got mumps. I just passed him on the way to the sanatorium." + +"Um! That means there is no School House representative. There must be +one. It would not do for it to appear a school thing, got up against a +School House boy. It would only help to alienate the two parties still +more. Let's see, who is the next senior man in the School House?" + +"Pilcher, sir." + +Pilcher was one of those people who, though quite efficient at +everything--he was in the Upper Sixth--pass through the school without +leaving any mark behind them. He was outside three-quarter, and was well +worth his place in the side, but he was in no way a blood. He was never +seen. He was always in his study. His was a blameless, uneventful +career. + +"He won't raise any objection, will he?" + +"I shouldn't think so, sir." + +Akerman had difficulty in not smiling. + +"Very well, then, you had better call a meeting of the Games Committee +this afternoon and talk over the matter. If anyone makes a fuss, say I +agree with it; and I expect it will be all right." + +There was no need, however, for any recourse to the oracle. The Games +Committee consisted of the captains of each house. None of them cared +the least what happened to Caruthers; he was nothing to them. Pilcher +supposed it was all right. The grand remonstrance was passed. + +On Monday at twelve-thirty Gordon was summoned by a fag to attend in the +school library. The six members of the Games Committee sat around a +circular table on which lay two canes. It all looked very impressive. + +Akerman rose. He began to read a speech off a piece of school paper. +Gordon had wondered why he had been so very energetic in taking down +notes during the Chief's divinity lecture that morning. The speech went +on. It was full of the inevitable platitudes about _esprit de corps_ and +a sportsmanlike spirit. Now and then Akerman stumbled, and had some +difficulty in reading his own writing. If there had not hung over him +the prospect of a very severe beating, Gordon would have enjoyed himself +thoroughly. Akerman was so pricelessly absurd. The rest looked painfully +self-conscious. Why could not Akerman have learnt his speech? It was so +bad that he could not imagine anyone having any difficulty in making it +up as he went along. Akerman was afraid of expressing an opinion. He +prefaced every remark with "Mr Buller says." It gave a sense of +security. The speech ended; everyone except Gordon was relieved. + +"Bend over there." + +The beating was not so horrible an ordeal as he had expected. In the +same spirit in which the outhouse captains had raised no objection, +merely because they did not care in the least what happened to Gordon, +so now they did not take any particular trouble to hurt him. The ordeal +was rather a fiasco. + +A halting oration had led to an even tamer execution. As Gordon walked +down the library steps he was painfully aware of having been the +principal character in a scene of sustained bathos. The body that +represented Fernhurst football had scarcely risen to the dignity of its +trust. + + * * * * * + +And then a sudden wave of feeling swept over him; and he saw the +horrible unfairness of the whole thing. It did not matter that Akerman +had made himself utterly ludicrous, or that the rest of the Games +Committee had been led to carry out a programme which they knew to be +hypocritical. It was the spirit that mattered. And at the back of it all +moved "the Bull" pulling the strings. In front of the School House +porch, clearly, dispassionately, Gordon put his case. + +"I know when I play football I get a bit excited; I know my feet fly all +over the place. They did that ever since I was a baby. I know I +sometimes lose my temper. But I have been like that always. I have +played the same game in the Thirds, and in the Colts, my first term and +yesterday. But nobody said anything then. Do you remember the Milton +match? I went a bit far then: I was fearfully ashamed of myself +afterwards; I thought my play had been a disgrace to the school. But did +'the Bull' think so? Good Lord, no. He gave the side a jaw, and said +that they were a disgrace to the school, with the exception of me! I +played hard and all that, while the rest slacked and funked! I was +singled out for praise in the roughest game I have ever played. And now +what happens? The House begins to win its matches; 'the Bull' sees his +house losing cup after cup. He and Akerman and the other fools think +something must be done. So they wait for an opportunity and then give me +a Games Committee beating, to try and frighten the rest of the House. +They talked about my unsportsmanlike play. They did not mind when I +played rough against Milton. Oh dear, no! But when they find their own +dirty shins being hacked, they sit up and shriek. And they wait till +Hazelton stops out, too!" + +Everyone agreed with him. From Dan to Beersheba there was but one +opinion. Buller had not been playing the game. The authorities were +against them. The House would have to cling together to protect its +rights. They could not have Buller trampling on them, dictating terms. +He had begun the contest; they would be prepared for him next time. An +aura of antagonism overhung the grey studies. Members of Buller's house +were dealt with in the sweeping delineation of "the swine across the +road." For the rest of the term, every time Princeford passed the School +House on his way to the common room, a whistle blew from the dark +recesses of the studies, and some voice shouted: "No try; off-side!" +"The Bull" himself was looked on with a general suspicion. The +inevitable had happened. "The Bull" in his attempt to sacrifice the +individual to the community had forgotten that the community is at the +mercy of the individual. The world is composed of a number of +individuals round whom parties and nations cling. "The Bull" had made an +attack on the individual, and the community that Gordon represented took +up his attitude of defiance, strengthening his resolve not to give way, +to keep the House independent of the tyranny that drew five outhouses +together as one. The House was not to be coerced. Its members would be +free to think, to do, to speak as they thought best. From that moment +Gordon took the interests of the House and not Fernhurst as the standard +by which to judge all his thoughts and actions. + +And so it happened that just at this moment, when the House was bubbling +over with suppressed wrath, a chance was given them of showing their +independence and defiance. + + + + +CHAPTER VII: REBELLION + + +On the Wednesday after the Games Committee's activities in the library, +Ferrers banged into Betteridge's study, his arms laden with books. There +was a Stoics meeting on the next Saturday, and the card drawn up at the +beginning of the term announced that there would be a reading of _Arms +and the Man_, by Bernard Shaw. But Ferrers, who was now president, never +took any notice of the programme, which he invariably altered a day or +two before the meeting. This imposed a considerable strain on those who +had to get up fresh parts and prepare different speeches at a second's +notice. But as the alterations were nearly always an improvement no one +minded. + +"Sorry, Betteridge--had to change Stoics' thing. Just picked up +this--_Younger Generation_, by Stanley Houghton--ordered fifteen copies +from Sidgwick & Jackson--good publishers. Do you know them? I've marked +our parts--here they are--no more time. Good-night." + +He was gone in a second. And the unfortunate secretary was left with the +lot of distributing copies and drawing up fresh notices. It was just on +lock-up, so there was no time to do anything till the next day. He +settled himself down to read the play. In a very short while he was +thoroughly engrossed; by the time he had reached the end of the first +act he had no doubt that Saturday would witness the most successful +meeting of the Stoics since the historic occasion when Macdonald and +Rogers had been persuaded to speak on opposite sides on "Trade +Unionism," and Rogers had been most gloriously routed. + +Betteridge went in search of Tester and Gordon. + +"Come up to my study and read a play Ferrers has got hold of for the +Stoics. It's glorious stuff." + +"All right," said Gordon. "I will go and fetch Rudd." + +"For God's sake, don't bring that outsider." + +"Oh, hell, why not? He is quite respectable; and, after all, he is one +of the best of our regular readers." + +"All right then: fetch him along." + +Since their scandalous ramble Gordon had become more or less friends +with Rudd, and had to a large extent helped to make his life more +bearable. + +The four sat silent, reading the play. There was occasionally a +suppressed laugh: otherwise no one spoke at all. + +In under an hour they had all finished. + +"Jolly good," said Gordon. "I do like seeing this younger generation up +against the rotten conventions of the mid-Victorian era." + +"Deal gently with them," murmured Betteridge. "Their horsehair +arm-chairs have stood the test of time very well." + +"Too well: but their Puritan ideas are in the melting-pot now. Their day +is over." + +"You know I am not sure that the Stoics is the right audience for a play +like this," said Tester. + +"Good heavens, man," protested Gordon, "you don't think it would corrupt +their morals, do you?" + +"Of course not, you ass! I don't think they would understand it: that's +all. They will laugh at it, and think it funny. But they won't really +see what Houghton is driving at. They won't understand that he is trying +to cut away the shackles of mature thought that are impeding the limbs +of youth. The lads in the Remove will be frightfully amused; they will +think the father an awful old fool, and the son the devil of a rip. They +won't see that both of them are real characters, and that a hundred +families to-day are working out their own little tragedy just on these +very lines." + +"But surely there are really no fathers quite so absurd as old Kennion. +Does not Houghton exaggerate the type, as Dickens exaggerates all his +types?" + +"Oh no, he's real enough; I expect there are a good many like him living +in Fernhurst now." + +The truth of the last remark was brought home three days later. + +On the Friday before the debate Ferrers got a bad attack of influenza. +There would be no one to take the chair. Moved by an instinct of +courtesy, Ferrers wrote to Christy a little note, enclosing the book, +and asking him to preside. + +On Saturday morning Christy went up to Betteridge in break. + +"Ah, Betteridge, Mr Ferrers has asked me to take the chair at the +Stoics. Well, I myself would not be present when such a play was read. +It is aimed at the very roots of domestic morality. It might do very +well in a small circle of Senior boys. But it would have a very serious +effect on young boys who are not as mature as you or I are. None of my +house will attend; and, from a conversation I had with Mr Rogers and Mr +Claremont, I am fairly certain they will not allow their houses to go +either. It would be really much better to wait until Mr Ferrers is well +again before anything is done. It would be quite easy to postpone the +meeting, I suppose." + +"Oh yes, sir, of course." + +Betteridge was not paying much attention: he was thinking hard. The bell +for school rang. + +"That will be all right then, Betteridge." + +"Quite, thank you, sir." + +Christy, bubbling with satisfaction, rushed off to tell the head of +Buller's that the meeting had been postponed. Things were turning out +well for him. He had obtained the beating of Caruthers, and now he had +most distinctly scored off Ferrers. He did not stop to think that both +these campaigns had been carried on behind his enemy's back. + +But in his moment of triumph over Ferrers he did not pause to think +whether he had also triumphed over the School House spirit of antagonism +which he himself had stirred up. + +During the half-hour between morning school and lunch, Betteridge, +Tester and Gordon held a council of war. + +"Of course, whatever we do," said Betteridge, "is bound to be in the +nature of farce. Three houses, you see, won't turn up at all, +Abercrombie's hardly ever sends anyone, and I don't mind betting that +Christy gets round 'the Bull' somehow." + +"Yes; but, confound it all," said Gordon, "are we going to be dictated +to by these outhouse potentates? The Stoics is more a School House +society than anything else; and, what's more, it is going to remain so. +These outhouse men can come or go if they want to. It does not matter to +us. Let us read this play with a School House cast, carry the thing +through somehow, and show these fools like Christy what we think of +them. Now is our chance of proving our independence." + +"Won't there be a hell of a row, though?" said Betteridge reluctantly. + +"What if there is, man?" said Gordon. "We can't help that. Somehow or +other that play is going to be read. Let this evening be a symbol of the +House's attitude. These houses have flung down the glove. They beat our +forwards when we win matches, and they try and stop our meetings. Damn +it, we'll pick up the glove!" + +"Yes," shouted Gordon, "and fling it in their snivelling faces." + +Betteridge drew up a huge notice of the meeting after hall and posted it +on the school board. It ran as follows: + + In spite of the fact that many of the usual readers will be + prevented from attending the Second Meeting of the Stoics this + term, the Society will read, at seven-thirty, in the School + House Reading Room, + + _THE YOUNGER GENERATION_ + + BY STANLEY HOUGHTON + + Cast .... + + (_Signed_) C.P. BETTERIDGE. + +That evening was historic. Every member of the School House attended the +meeting, the members of the day-room as well as those from the studies. +The reading-room was packed. It was a record meeting. The reading was +erratic. Parts were forced at the eleventh hour on reluctant and totally +unsuitable persons. But somehow or other they got through it in the end; +and that was all that mattered. + +But still it was not without a little nervousness that the conspirators +awaited developments. Christy saw the notice and fumed. Ferrers heard of +it and laughed. Rogers rushed to the Chief palpitating with rage. + +After lunch the Chief sent for Betteridge, and asked for a copy of _The +Younger Generation_. There was an air of nervous anticipation pervading +the studies. Just before tea the Chief sent for Betteridge again. + +"A very interesting play. Very modern, of course, but extremely clever. +Thank you so much for lending it me. I wish I had been at the reading. A +record attendance, I hear. Well, ask me to come next time you get as +good a play as that." + +There was no reference to the outhouse boycott. The Chief was very +tactful, and, moreover, he had enjoyed reading the play immensely. +Besides, it would not have done any good if he had made a fuss, +especially when he was entirely in sympathy with Betteridge. + +In _The Fernhurst School Magazine_, which was edited by Betteridge, +there appeared the following paragraph:-- + + "On Saturday, 5th March, before a record and appreciative + audience, the Stoics read _The Younger Generation_, by Stanley + Houghton. There was no one who failed to realise the + extraordinary insight into the life of the day that made such a + work possible. The enthusiasm and applause were highly + significant, as showing what a keen interest the school is + taking in all questions of social and domestic life. There were + rather fewer representatives from the outhouses than usual, but + this was as well, as there would have been little room for + them." + +The victory of Christy was not so very complete after all. + +With this successful demonstration Gordon's excitement in House politics +abated. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII: THE DAWNING OF MANY DREAMS + + +The Three Cock came and went, bringing with it House caps for Lovelace, +Collins and Fletcher, but it caused little stir. Everyone had foreseen +the result, and without Hazelton (ill with mumps) the House stood little +chance of keeping the score under fifty. Hostilities were declared +closed for the time being. The four weeks of training for the sports +came on, and Gordon's Sixth Form privileges were restored. For a short +time the hold of athleticism was weakened, and as it weakened, the hold +of literature became more firm. + +"House Caps" were always allowed a fairly slack time after the Three +Cock, and Gordon made the best of his. While the last traces of winter +were disappearing, and the evenings began to draw out into long, +lingering sunsets, he voyaged on into the unknown waters of poetry. +Keats and Shelley, names which had once meant nothing to him, now became +his living prophets. He felt his own life coloured by their +interpretations. During the days of his quest for power, when the scent +of battle had led him on, he had found inspiration only in those whose +moods coincided with his own. But now that the contest was over and +strife was merged into a temporary lull, there came a check in the fiery +search for achievements. He found pleasure in the gentler but far more +beautiful melodies of Keats. Byron and Swinburne had beaten so loudly on +their drums, and blown so forcibly on the clarion that his ears had been +deafened. But in the peaceful afterglow of satisfied desire he asked for +soft and quiet music. + +During this time he saw a great deal of Ferrers. Together they discussed +all the questions that to them seemed most vital. The Public School +system came in for a great deal of abuse. + +"A lot wants altering," Ferrers said. "Boys come here fresh from +preparatory schools. If they are clever and get into higher forms, they +are put among bigger boys, and they get their outlook coloured by them. +They get wrong impressions shoved into their heads, cease to think at +all, lose all sense of honesty and morality. Then the school that has +made them like this finds out what they are, and sends them away." + +"By Jove, that's just what Jeffries said." + +"Jeffries--who is Jeffries? I don't know him." + +"He was a splendid fellow; but, like most other people, he followed the +crowd, then got caught and had to go." + +"That is it; always the same. Usually the least bad are sacked, too; +never heard of a real rake getting sent away; the rakes are far too +clever. Cleverness is what counts, counts all through life. A man is +expelled only because he is not clever enough to avoid being caught, and +then the school thinks it's saving the others by sending him away. And +it does no good. The big wrong 'un stays on, only the weak one goes. +Human nature is a thing that has got to be dealt with carefully, not in +the half-hearted way it is here." + +Ferrers wrote a great deal about Public Schools to the various London +papers. He was fast winning a name in the educational world. But he was +always being asked to modify his statements. He raved against the +weakness of the authorities. + +"They don't want to know the truth," he said, "they are afraid to hear +it. 'Tell us lies,' that's what they say. 'Lull us into a false +security. A big bust-up is coming soon, but keep it off till after we +are gone.' They know their house is built on sand, running out into the +river. They want to barricade their own tiny houses for a little. I want +to go and search for the big firm land, but they are too comfortable on +their cushions and fine linen to dare to move. Oh, prophesy smooth +things!" + +Gordon listened intently to it all. Ferrers was his ideal. Often they +would talk of books: of the modern novel; of Compton Mackenzie, in whom +idealism and realism were one; of Rupert Brooke, the coming poet, who +was to make men believe in the beauties of this earth, instead of +hankering after an immaterial hereafter; of the Elizabethan drama, of +Marlowe, Beaumont, Webster. They were very wonderful, those hours. +Gordon felt that he had at last, after wandering far, come to his +continuing city. Glancing back over his last two years, he used to laugh +and say: + +"I don't regret them; I was happy; and the only thing to regret is +unhappiness. But I have outgrown them; they did not last. They were what +Stephen Phillips would number among the 'over-beautiful, quick fading +things.' They were good days, though. But I am happier now. I can see +the future spreading out before me. Next winter Hunter will be captain, +but I shall be second in the team and lead the forwards. It will be a +year of preparation. Then will come my year of captaincy. All the things +I wanted seem falling into my hands. 'Life is sweet, brother,' life is +sweet!" + +And, looking back, it seemed as if in the wild orgy of Pack Monday Fair +he had finally burnt the old garments and put on the new. That day had +been the funeral pyre of his old life; and, like Sardanapalus, it had +died of its own free will. A glorious end; no anti-climax. But the +future was still more glorious. When he watched the morning sun flicker +white on the broad Eversham road from the station to the Abbey, the +leaves breaking on the lindens, the dim lights waking in the chapel on +Sunday, he saw how far he had outgrown his old self. Now he had begun to +perceive what life's aim should be--the search for beauty. Tester had +been right when he said that beauty was the only thing worth having, the +one ideal time could not tarnish. And yet Tester was not satisfied. The +hold of the world was too strong on him. He could see where others were +going wrong, but he himself was all astray, at times morbidly wretched, +at others hilarious with excitement. It was merely a question of +temperament. Gordon saw stretching before him the fulfilment of his +hopes. There was no niche for failure. His destiny would unroll smoothly +like a great machine; he was at peace, in sympathy with a world of +beautiful ideas and dreams. At times he would feel an unreasoning anger +with the Public School system, but his rage soon cooled down. After all, +it had left him at the last unscathed, and was in the future to bring +many gifts. Others might be broken on the wheel; but he was still +sufficiently an egoist, sufficiently self-centred to be indifferent to +them. He had come through, with luck perhaps, but still he had come +through. That was all that mattered. He had not read Matthew Arnold's +_Rugby Chapel_. If he had, he might have recognised himself in the +pilgrim who had saved only himself, while the world was full of others, +like the Chief, who were "bringing their sheep in their hand." But +probably even if he had read the poem at that time, he would have been +too happy, too self-contented, too successful to realise its poignant +truth. And it would not have been surprising. Youth is always intolerant +and self-centred. It is only when we grow old, and see so "little done +of all we so gaily set out to do," that we suddenly appreciate that, +even if we have ourselves failed, yet if we can by our experience help +someone else to succeed, our life will not be utterly vain. Altruism is +the philosophy of middle age. + +On a few, but very few, occasions Gordon was temporarily roused out of +his secure atmosphere. One of these was on the last day of term, when a +letter appeared in _The Fernhurst School Magazine_ suggesting that the +Three Cock should be changed into a Two Cock, since the School House had +for the last few years proved itself so incapable of holding out against +the strong outhouse combination of three houses against one. Much of +what the writer said was true. The House numbered only about seventy, +while each outhouse contained some forty boys, with perhaps six day boys +attached to each. The House did not take in day boys, so that the House +was always playing against a selection from double its number. A Two +Cock would be far fairer. Nevertheless the House was furious. + +"Confounded old ass," said Mansell. "I believe Claremont wrote it. Let +him wait till next year and he will see his beastly blue shirts rolled +in the mud." + +"But it is such infernal swank," said Gordon. "We smashed them in the +Thirds; to all intents and purposes we routed them in the Two Cock; the +only thing the outhouses won was the Three Cock; and they are so bucked +about that that they want to clinch a victory, get up and shout: 'Look +at us, what devils of fine fellows we are! You can't touch us. Better +take charity.' Unutterable conceit! Why, we won four times running about +seven years ago. I have a good mind to go to Claremont and give it him +straight. Betteridge, you absurd ass, why did you print this thing?" + +"Well, you see, there were a few rather risky things in the paper, and I +thought if I cut it out he might hack about the rest of the rag. And, +besides, it will be an awful score when we win next year, as we are +absolutely certain to. Can't you imagine the account: 'Last year some +rather foolhardy persons doubted the ability of the School House to deal +with a combined side of the best three outhouses, and they were rash +enough to express their doubts in print. But this year, under the able +captaincy of G.F. Hunter, with the forwards admirably led by G.R. +Caruthers, the House gained a thoroughly deserved victory by fifteen +points to three.' We shall crow then, my lads, sha'n't we?" + +"Yes, it will be all right then," said Mansell. "My lord, I wish I was +going to be here to play in it. My governor is a fool to make me leave +and go to France." + +Mansell was leaving at the end of the term. + +"Well, all the same, it's a vile insult to the House," said Gordon. +"Whether he meant it or not, it's an insult." + +But his annoyance passed quickly. He was far too certain of the future +to worry much about what anyone said. He was sure the House would win in +the end. It was only a question of time. And when the prize-giving came, +his anger gave way to pride. His place in form gave him little +satisfaction, for he was easily bottom of the Sixth; but after the books +had been given there came the turn of the House cups. Amid enormous +cheers Lovelace went up for the Thirds cup; amid still louder cheers he +and the outhouse captain stepped up together to receive the Two Cock +cup. Then at tea Hazelton walked into hall carrying the two trophies to +place on the mantelpiece, and the House burst forth in a roar of +cheering. It was all sheer joy; and beyond the present glory shone the +dawn of great triumphs to come. The House was just entering on its +career of success. The day of Buller's was at an end. There only +remained to them the remnants of their earlier glory. Where they had +stood the House was about to stand. And in that hour of triumph Gordon +himself would be the protagonist. + +The short Easter holidays passed happily. Over the fresh grass of +Hampstead Heath Gordon wandered alone on those April mornings, when the +trees were breaking into a green splendour, when the long waters of the +Welsh Harp lay out in the morning sun like a sheet of gold. Looking +across from the firs he saw the spire of Harrow church cutting the red +sky, and the long stretch of country in between rolling out into a +panorama of loveliness. On the road to Parliament Hill he passed the +spot where Shelley found a starving woman dying in the snow, and took +her to Leigh Hunt's house to give her warmth. Near John Masefield's +house was the garden where Keats had written his immortal _Ode to a +Nightingale_. Hampstead was prodigal of associations, and they stirred +the boy's imagination like a trumpet call. + +Then followed the long summer term, with its drowsy afternoons, its +white flannels, its long evening shadows creeping across the courts, its +ices, its innumerable lemonades; everything conspired to make Gordon +supremely happy. Scholastically he had at last achieved his great wish +of specialising in history; a fine-sounding programme which actually +implied that he would not need to do another stroke of work during his +Fernhurst career. Specialising in history was an elastic activity, and +might mean a few hours a week in which to read up political economy. It +might mean what Prothero made it mean--seven hours in school a week, and +the remainder pretending to read history in his study. + +The grey and lifeless Finnemore superintended the history, and, like +everything else he superintended, it was scandalously neglected. +Outhouse people occasionally did a little work; School House men never. +Gordon began by taking quite modest privileges. He knew he had heaps of +time to enlarge his advantages. He started by doing one prose and one +"con" a week, instead of two proses and two "cons" like the rest of the +form. He also gave up one Latin construe book and one Greek book. That +meant about two hours a day to idle in his study. But he found it quite +easy to turn that two into three, and he was well aware that by +Christmas his daily hours of indolence would have reached five. Prothero +at the present moment was only going into school for divinity and +French, and as often as not he told his French master that he was so +much occupied with history that he could not come to French at all. +Nominally he went into school seven hours a week, actually he very +rarely went in more than three. + +The method of teaching history at Fernhurst had been the same from time +immemorial. Gordon was told to buy _Modern Europe_, by Lodge, price +seven shillings and sixpence. He did not, however, put his father to +this expense. History specialists in the School House had for years used +the same book. It had once belonged to a fabulous Van Hepworth, who had +gained a History exhibition at Selwyn somewhere in the nineties. + +No one knew anything of this Van Hepworth. His name was on the school +boards, but he had never been seen or heard of since he had left +Fernhurst for the romantic atmosphere of Cambridge. But he had left +behind him a name that will be remembered in the School House as long as +history is taught by Finnemore. For on his last day, in a fit of +gratitude, he had left to future historians the legacy of his history +notebook. It contained all that Finnemore knew! + +Every week Finnemore set three questions to his specialists--to be done +with books. He had a stock of these questions, and Van Hepworth had +written exhaustive essays on every one of them. All that was needed was +to consult the oracle, and then copy out what he had written. Sometimes, +by way of a change, Finnemore would think of a new subject. But Gordon +would say: + +"Oh, sir, I have been reading about Mary de Medici, and am very much +interested in her. I wondered if I could do a question on her." + +"Of course. I always like you to do what you are interested in. Let me +see. I have a nice little question on her: 'Mary de Medici: was she an +unmixed evil?' An interesting subject which raises quite a lot of +points. And I have one more question for you. 'Compare Richelieu and +Mazarin,' an interesting little psychological study. I think you will +enjoy them." + +Then Gordon would have recourse to the unfailing authority, Van +Hepworth. Sometimes he felt too slack to copy out the questions at all. +On such occasions he would simply read Van Hepworth's essay straight out +of the old, battered book. + +"I hope you won't mind my reading this to you, but I was in rather a +hurry and I doubt if you could quite read my handwriting." + +Finnemore would listen with the greatest interest. + +"Very nice indeed, Caruthers, very sound attitude to adopt. An essay +well worth preserving. You will copy it out neatly, won't you?" + +"Oh yes, sir." + +Gordon wanted to institute a Van Hepworth memorial, and put up a plate +to him somewhere. But there were many obstacles to this. The Chief might +want to know more about him, and the legend had to be kept secret. In +the end he contented himself with having the book bound in full morocco, +so that it might be preserved for future generations, for already the +cardboard cover had become sadly torn. Where Van Hepworth is now, who +knows? This only is certain, that although he has most likely by now +lost all clear recollection of Fernhurst and the grey School House +studies, yet his name is remembered there to-day, with far greater +veneration and respect than was ever paid to him during the days of his +school career. + + "Let us now praise famous men, + Men of little showing, + For their work continueth, + Deep and long continueth, + Wide and far continueth, far beyond their knowing." + +And so Gordon's scholastic career came to an end. He had reached the +"far border town." There would be no need to fret himself about form +orders any more. "Strong men might go by and pass o'er him"; he had +retired from the fray. While others crammed their brains with obscure +interpretations of Æschylus, he lay back reading English poetry and +English prose, striving to get a clear hold of the forces that went to +produce each movement, and incidentally doing himself far more good than +he would have done by binding himself down to the classical regime, +which trained boys to imitate, and not to strike out on their own. +Gordon had already acquired enough of the taste and sense of form which +the classics alone can provide, and which are essential to a real +culture. But he was lucky in stopping soon enough to prevent himself +being forced into a groove, from which he could only judge new movements +by the Ciceronian standards, without grasping the fact that technique +and form are merely outward coverings of genius, and not genius in +themselves. + +To the other delights of this delightful term was added the sudden and +unexpected success of Gordon's cricket. For the first fortnight Gordon +found himself playing on House and Colts games. But as he gathered runs +there with ease, he was soon transplanted to the First Eleven nets, +which he thenceforward only left for a brief spell, after an attack of +chicken-pox. For a member of the School Eleven life has nothing better +to offer than a summer term. There were usually two matches a week. The +team would get off work at ten o'clock, and just as the school was +pouring out in break they would stroll leisurely down to the cricket +field. Everything, in fact, was carried out leisurely. A wonderful +atmosphere of repose hangs over a cricket field in the morning, when the +grass is still sparkling with dew, and there is silence and vast +emptiness where usually is the sound of shouting and hurrying feet. +There was the long luncheon interval, when the members of the Eleven +would wander round the field arm in arm, or lounge on the seats lazy and +contented. Gordon loved to sit in the pavilion balcony watching the +white forms change across between the overs, the red ball bounce along +the grass, the wicket-keeper whip off the bails, the umpire's finger go +up. The whole tableau was so unreal, so idealistic. Then the school +would come down after lunch with rugs and cushions, and would clamour +outside the tuck-shop for ices and ginger beer. Gordon could hardly +connect his present existence with the past two years of doubts, +uncertainties, wild excitements, hurry, bustle--never a second's peace. + +One of his most perfect days was the Radley match. After a long journey, +at the very end of the day they passed through Oxford, and Gordon caught +one fleeting glimpse of those wonderful "dreaming spires," rising golden +in the dying sun. As the team walked up from Abingdon to the college, +Tester, who had at last got into the side, came up and took Gordon's +arm. + +"You know, when I saw Oxford lying out there so peaceful and calm, I +thought I had at last reached the end of searching. This was my first +view of Oxford; by passing the certificate I didn't need to go up for +smalls. Thank God, I am going up there next term. I think I shall forget +all my old misgivings in so completely peaceful an atmosphere. I can't +shake off the Public School ideas yet; I am all adrift; still, I think +it will be all right there." + +Gordon wondered indeed how anyone could fail to find all their dreams +realised in so secluded, so monastic a Utopia. + +The next two days were supremely happy. Gordon, Lovelace and Foster were +put into the same house; and they spent half the night ragging in their +old light-hearted fashion. The match resembled most of the other +performances of that year's Eleven. The whole side was out for eighty. +Gordon hit two fours and was then leg before; Lovelace, with laborious +efforts and much use of his pads, made twenty-three and five leg byes. +But it was a sorry performance, and Radley put up over two hundred. +Fernhurst went in again; and that day Gordon and Lovelace were sent in +first. + +It was an amazing performance. Gordon's cricket was, in honest fact, one +of the biggest frauds that had ever been inflicted on an opposing side. +He had three shots--a cut, a slash shot past cover, and a drive that +landed the ball anywhere from mid-wicket to over short-slip. People used +to say that he tried each of these shots in rotation. That perhaps was +hardly fair; but he invariably cut straight balls and pulled good length +balls on the off stump to the on boundary. This evening, at any rate, he +was in luck. With terrific violence he smote the Radley bowling all +round the field. Some shots went along the ground, more fell just out of +reach of a fielder. It was invigorating but hardly classic cricket. +Still, whatever it was, it produced seventy-two runs, while Lovelace had +scored three. After he left Lovelace became still more cautious. A man +from Christy's was in at the other end, who had been instructed to keep +up his end for an hour. As a matter of fact, they scored exactly two +runs between them in about half-an-hour. That two was from a drive from +Lovelace past cover. + +At such daring Lovelace became much elated. + +"Come on, I say, come on. Lots of runs here. Come on." + +The Radley men were very amused. Lovelace took nothing seriously. It was +as well that "the Bull" was absent. Once, just as the bowler was rushing +up to bowl, Lovelace flung out his hand and said: "Stop! Move the screen +please; your hand is just behind a tree!" + +With great difficulty the screens were moved. + +Once he patted the ball a little way down the pitch, and shouted to the +batsman at the other end, with hand extended: "Stay!" + +There was some subdued laughter. + +Lovelace turned round to the wicket-keeper and said: "Strange as it may +seem, I am the worst member of this rotten side, and I am playing for my +place. This is the way to keep your place at Fernhurst." + +The final achievement was a successful appeal against the light. + +The next day it rained in torrents. + +"Jolly rotten luck," said Lovelace, "and I was certain for a bat for +making my fifty, too." + +"Do you think so?" said Tester. "You know, they don't play to a finish +in England. You are thinking of Australian rules." + +Commemoration came and went, with its tea-parties, parasols, calf-bound +books, sermons and cricket match. The term drew to its close. + +"This is the best term I have ever had," said Gordon. "By Jove, we have +had some good days." + +Yet, of all things, that which remained clearest in his memory was one +day early in the term, when he and Lovelace were recovering from +chicken-pox. The school had gone for a field day to Salisbury, and they +were left behind with Archie Fletcher, who had been ragging Jenks, and +had been kept back for punishment, and a quantity of small fry. No work +was done. In the morning they all had to go into the big schoolroom and +hear Claremont read _Lycidas_ and parts of _Comus_. + +Claremont read remarkably well, and Gordon, in an atmosphere of genial +tolerance and good humour, was able to get a clearer insight into the +real soul of the pedant of the Lower Fifth. For, shorn of his trappings, +Claremont was "a dear old fellow." Among books he had found the lasting +friendship and consolation that among his colleagues he had sought in +vain. And as he read _Comus_, in many ways the most truly poetical poem +in the English language, Gordon realised how sensitively Claremont's +heart was wrought upon by every breath of beauty. + +The afternoon they had to themselves. A net was put up on the field, and +for an hour or so they beat about, regardless of science and footwork. A +relaxation was a good thing now and again. Then they went back to the +studies, and in the absence of its owner laid hold of the games study. +They had the run of it now, and, with an enormous basket of strawberries +before them, played tunes on the gramophone and roared the chorus. As +the evening fell, and the lights began to wake, Gordon and Archie stole +down to the fried fish shop, strictly out of bounds, and returned with +an unsavoury, but none the less palatable, parcel of fried fish and +chips. + +It was a glorious day; they enjoyed all Fernhurst's privileges with its +restrictions removed, and when the notes of _Land of Hope and Glory_ +proclaimed that the corps was marching up Cheap Street, they considered +the return to realities to be almost an intrusion on their isolated +peace. + +In the last week of the term the Colts played Downside, and Gordon was +still young enough to play for them. "The Bull" went with them, and +could not have been kinder. He walked round the ground with Gordon in +the interval, as if there had been never any cause of quarrel between +them at all. They talked of books as well as cricket; and though "the +Bull's" gods were not Gordon's, there was real sympathy between them for +an hour. On the way back in the train, Gordon wondered whether, after +all, he had not been right at the beginning, when he promised to curb +his personality, and merge it into "the Bull's." What good was there in +going his own way, in fighting for what he thought right? Buller always +had had his own way, and things had gone on all right. Why should he try +and alter things? Having realised "the Bull's" faults, should he not +make allowance for them, seeing that his virtues so outnumbered his +failings? He was certainly intolerant of any other opinions but his own; +but then so was Ferrers, whom Gordon worshipped on the other side of +idolatry. The pity was that Ferrers was intolerant of the things he +hated, while Buller was intolerant of the things he admired. It was all +very difficult. For the moment he did not feel ready to come to any +decision. He was too happy to trouble himself. "Sufficient for the day +were the day's evil things." Let the future reveal itself. He would see +how things turned out. + +The concert came, with its _Valete_ of many memories. The school songs +were howled out; hands crossed and swung in _Auld Lang Syne_; the +_Carmen_ nearly brought the roof down. Lying back in bed, Gordon saw +little to regret in the school year that was just ending. Considering he +had been second in the batting averages, he thought they might have +given him his "Firsts"; but it did not matter very much. There was heaps +of time. Three years of fulfilment. Half his school life was over. The +threads of his youth had been unravelled at last; and in the coming year +they would be woven upon the wonderful loom of youth, with its bright +colours, its sunshine and its laughter. As the spring morn flings aside +its winter raiment, so he had put off the garb of his wandering +adolescence. He was prepared for whatever might come. But he was certain +that it was only happiness that was waiting for him. Three years of +success in which would be mingled the real poetry of existence. He would +not write his poetry on paper; he would write it, as Herod had written +it, in every action of his life. His innings was just about to begin. + + + + +BOOK IV: THE WEAVING + + "Alba Ligustra cadunt; vaccinia nigra leguntur." + + VERGIL. + + "Life like an army I could hear advance + Halting at fewer, fewer intervals." + + HAROLD MONRO. + + + + +CHAPTER I: THE TWILIGHT OF THE GODS + + +It is good to dream; but "Man proposes: God in His time disposes," and +Gordon's dream was scattered at its dawn. Hardly a week later a great +nation forgot its greatness, and Europe trembled on the brink of war. +During those days of awful suspense, when it was uncertain whether +England would enter into the contest or not, Gordon could hardly keep +still with nervous excitement. When on the Sunday before Bank Holiday +J.L. Garvin poured out his warning to the Liberal Government, it seemed +for a moment as if they were going to back out. + +On the Tuesday Gordon went to the Oval; Lovelace major was playing +against Surrey. In the Strand he ran into Ferrers. + +"Come on, sir I am just off to the Oval to see Lovelace's brother bat. +Great fellow! Captain of the House my first term." + +"Right you are. Come on. There's a bus!" + +For hours, or what seemed like hours, two painfully correct +professionals pottered about, scoring by ones and twos. Gordon longed +for them to get out. A catch was missed in the slips. + +"Surrey are the worst slip-fielding side in England," announced Gordon +fiercely. The Oval crowd, always so ferociously partisan, moved round +him uneasily. + +At last a roar went up, as Hitch knocked the leg stump flying out of the +ground. Then Lovelace came in. He looked just as he had looked on the +green Fernhurst sward, only perhaps a little broader. He was wearing the +magenta and black of the School House scarf. He was an amateur of the +R.E. Foster type--wrist shots past cover, and an honest off-drive. + +A change came over the play at once. In his first over he hit two fours. +There was a stir round the ground. His personality was as strong as +ever. + +A boy ran on the field with a telegram for him. + +"I bet that means he has got to join his regiment," said Gordon, "and it +also means we are going to fight." + +Lovelace shoved the telegram into his pocket, and went on batting just +as if nothing had happened, just as if he did not realise that this was +his last innings for a very long time. He hit all round the wicket. + +At last a brilliant piece of stumping sent him back to the pavilion amid +a roar of cheering. + +"My word, Mr Ferrers, there goes the finest man Fernhurst has turned out +since I have been there. And, my word, it will be a long time before we +turn out another like him. There will be nothing to see now he has +gone." + +They wandered out into the Kennington Road, excited, feverish. They had +lunch at Gatti's, went into _Potash and Perlmutter_, and came out after +the first act. + +"This is no time for German Jews," said Ferrers, "let's try the +Hippodrome." + +It was an expensive day. They rushed from one thing to another. The +strain was intolerable. After supper they went to the West End Cinema, +and there, just before closing-time, a film, in which everyone was +falling into a dirty duck-pond for no ostensible reason, was suddenly +stopped, and there appeared across the screen the flaming notice: + + ENGLAND HAS DECLARED WAR ON GERMANY + + GOD SAVE THE KING! + +There was dead silence for a moment. Then cheer upon cheer convulsed the +house. The band struck up the National Anthem. The sequel to the tragedy +of the duck-pond was never known. + +"Glorious! Glorious!" said Ferrers, as they staggered out into the cool +night air. "A war is what we want. It will wake us up from sleeping; +stir us into life; inflame our literature. There's a real chance now of +sweeping away the old outworn traditions. In a great fire they will all +be burnt. Then we can build afresh. I wish I could go and fight. Damn my +heart! To think of all the running it stood at Oxford; and then suddenly +to give way. My doctor always tells me to be careful. If I could go, by +God, I would have my shot at the bloody Germans; but still I'll do +something at Fernhurst. Stoics, you know; Army class English. How old +are you? Sixteen! We shall have you for two years yet. This war is going +to save England and everything! Glorious!" + +The flaring lights of Leicester Square, the tawdry brilliance of +Piccadilly seemed to burst into one volcano of red splendour; a thousand +cannons spitting flame; a thousand eyes bright with love of England. The +swaying Tube swept Gordon home in a state of subconscious delirium to +the starlit calm of Hampstead. + +Throughout the long summer holidays this feeling of rejoicing sustained +Gordon's heart. He saw an age rising out of these purging fires that +would rival the Elizabethan. He saw a second Marlowe and a second +Webster. His soul was aflame with hope. He had no doubt as to the +result. Even the long retreat from Mons, with its bitter list of +casualties, failed to terrorise him. Half the holidays he spent in +Wychtown, a little Somersetshire village, and his enthusiasm at one time +took the form of buying bundles of newspapers, which he distributed at +the cottages, so as to keep everyone in touch with the state of affairs. +At one time he thought of going round discussing the war with some of +the villagers; but he soon abandoned this project. He began with an aged +man who had fought at Majuba. + +"Well, Mr Cavendish, and what do you think of the war this morning." + +"Lor' bless you, things beant what they were in my young days. At +Majuba, now, we did things a bit different-like. But these 'ere Germans, +now, they be getting on right well. Be they for us?" + +After this Gordon decided that the natural simplicity of the yokel was +proof against anything he might have to say. He pitied electioneering +agents. + +A week before the beginning of term he received two letters. The first +was from Lovelace, who had got a nomination to Sandhurst, and would not +return to school next term. The other was from Hunter, saying that he +had won a commission in the Dorsets. + +"_Well, Caruthers, old fellow_," he added, "_this means that you will be +captain of the House. I had greatly looked forward to being captain +myself, and had thought out a good many new ideas. But of course all +that has got to go now, and I don't intend to try and pass off my +theories on you; you'll probably have many more than I had, and a good +deal better ones. All I can say is that I wish the very best of luck to +you and to the House. I have no doubt you'll do jolly well. Good luck._" + +Gordon sat silent for a long while. Sorrow at losing Lovelace strove +with the joy of reaching his heart's desire so soon. Finally all other +emotions were lost in the overflowing sense of relief that his days of +waiting for achievement were over. + +In a mood of supreme self-confidence he returned to Fernhurst. + +At Waterloo everyone was talking at the top of his voice. + +"Is it true Akerman has left?" + +"Yes; got a commission in the Middlesex." + +"Good Lord! that'll mean Gregory captain." + +"Hunter has left, too, I hear." + +"Has he?" + +"Caruthers will be captain of the House, then." + +Broken sentences were wafted like strange music to Gordon's ears. He +felt that the eyes of those who once had been his equals looked at him +with a sort of Oriental admiration, in which there lurked traces of +fear. + +He found himself addressed with more respect. One or two people came up +to congratulate him. The green flag waved. The train moved majestically +westward, and his reign had begun. He did not feel the slightest tremor +of nervousness. He remembered Hunter saying at the end of last term that +it was ticklish work being captain of the House. Was it? To Gordon it +seemed no more than the inevitable entrance into a kingdom which was +his by right of conquest. + +The Eversham road swept in its broad curve up to the Abbey, black with +moving figures. Gordon slowly walked up to the House. It was the +privilege of School House prefects to enter by a small gate near the +masters' common room. Haughtily he rang the bell. A wizened old lady +opened the door, bowing with a "Hope you 'ad a good 'oliday, sir." It +was the first sensation of power. + +A crowd had collected round the notice-board in the changing-room. +Gordon murmured "Thank you," and two or three Eton collars moved aside +to give him room. What a change! All the giants of the former generation +had gone. Betteridge had, at the express request of the Chief, come back +for one term. But he alone remained. Gordon was fifth in the House; and, +good Lord, that amazing ass Rudd was a prefect, and second in the House! +He and Gordon had a double dormitory on the lower landing. The number of +boys in the House had sunk to sixty-two, rather a desolating thought for +House matches. + +The Chief was not in his study. Gordon dropped a health certificate on +his table, and gave instructions to one Morgan, a round-faced, ruddy +youth, to shove his bag into his dormitory. Then he wandered over to the +games study. And so this study was going to be his! He had often sat +there with Carter; but he had always felt himself an excrescence. Now it +was his own. He pictured the evenings after a hard game of football, +sitting in front of the fire; the long mornings when he was supposed to +be preparing history for Finnemore, spent in this atmosphere of +luxurious calm. He planned his furnishing of the room. In the broad +window he would hang two bookshelves for his smaller books. On each side +of the fireplace there was also room for bookshelves. Then, standing +against the wooden partition that jutted out into the room would be his +large oak bookcase for the heavy volumes. He would repaper the room, and +a new carpet was a necessity. He went over to the porter's lodge to give +instructions. + +He had already decided to ask Foster to share the study with him. Foster +would be captain of cricket next summer. They would get on well +together. Foster never quarrelled with anyone; and it would be a +suitable combination. He met Foster by the eight-ten train from Exeter, +and informed him of the fact. + +When prayers came, and Gordon stood under the mantelpiece behind the +arm-chair where the captain of the House sat, and looked down at the row +of new boys at the day-room table, it seemed incredible to him that he +had ever been like that. And yet it was only three years ago since he +had sat there, dazed and frightened. + +Prayers were ended. Gordon sat back, his hands resting on the arms of +his big oak chair. The Chief came round, shaking hands. + +"Caruthers, Foster and Davenport, you might come and speak to me for a +moment after you have finished your supper." + +That was not long. No one had ever been known to touch any of the +first-night soup; Gordon had often wondered what happened to it. There +was much of it, and all wasted. + +The Chief greeted them with his invariable fluttering smile. + +"I suppose you know what I want you for? Kitchener called up his +reserves, so I have had to call up mine. None of you would, I think, in +the ordinary course of events have become prefects this term. But as it +is, I am sure you will all do well; and remember that being a prefect +does not merely consist in the privilege of being late for breakfast. +Some of you, who may very likely have views of your own on certain +subjects, must try and make them conform with mine. We must all try to +work together, and I am always ready to give any of you advice if I am +able to, and of course----" + +At this moment there came the discordant sounds that proclaimed the +arrival of the last train from town. Gordon could imagine some wretched +new boy huddled underneath the stairs, ignorant and timid. + +Rudd burst in with a health certificate and outside came the babble of +voices. "I must go and see Chief ... Health certificate ... Confirmation +classes ... Going to specialise in stinks." + +It was clear that the Chief was to have a hard time for the next twenty +minutes interviewing all these candidates for a satisfactory division of +labour. + +"Well, I think that is all just now, thank you." + +He gave them a nod of dismissal. They filed out into the passage, black +with its crowd of clamouring applicants. + +It was not until the next day, however, that Gordon fully realised the +change that had come over Fernhurst. Nearly all the bloods had left. +Gregory was still there, but he had sent his papers in, and expected to +be gazetted in a week or so, and of the Fifteen of the year before he +was the only remaining colour. Two members of the Second Fifteen +remained: one because he was only seventeen, the other, Akerman's +younger brother, because he was going to be a medical student and was +not allowed to take a commission by the War Office. + +The staff also had undergone several changes. Ferrers was practically +the only master under thirty. The rest had all taken commissions, and +their places were filled by grey-beards and bald-heads, long since past +their prime. It was a case of extreme youth face to face with extreme +age. + +"There will be some fun this term," prophesied Archie Fletcher, for whom +the immediate future stretched out into a long series of colossal +"rags." + +Rogers was imperially himself. The Corps was, of course, to be allowed +considerably more time this term. There were two parades a week, one a +company drill on Friday, the other a field day on Wednesday. Besides +this, between twelve-thirty and lunch there would be section and platoon +drill every day. Rogers imagined that O.T.C. work would shortly become +more important and more popular than football; he saw himself taking the +position once held by Buller. On the strength of this alluring prospect +he bought a new uniform. + +For the first few days life was entertainingly disorganised. The +time-table worked out all wrong. Gregory got gazetted; and Akerman, on +becoming captain, forgot the numbers of the football grounds, thus +causing endless and hilarious confusion. No one quite knew what was +happening, but everyone was happily excited, and vaguely garrulous about +"how the war has changed things." + +Gordon found that his new position brought with it certain other +honours. In the Corps, for instance, where for three years he had so +tempered slackness with insolence as to make him the worst private in +the company, he found himself a lance-corporal, in charge of a section. +He was elected to the Dolts Literary Society, under the placid autocracy +of Claremont, who called them his "stolidi." But nothing showed more +clearly the change wrought by the war than the fact that Gordon was +nominated to the Games Committee, before which august body hardly six +months ago he had cut such an inglorious figure. It was a strange irony. + +In the School House every prefect was allowed four fags, so as Foster +and Gordon were both prefects, the games study had a goodly crowd of +menials. For the most part they were simple, insignificant, +Eton-collared mortals, who flitted round the room after breakfast with +dusters, and at various other times of the day came in to see after the +fire. Gordon took little notice of them. Foster had made out a list of +the days on which each fag was on duty; one, Hare, was put in charge, +and when anything went wrong, Hare was considered responsible and +beaten. After two such castigations the excellence of the fagging was +maintained at an unusually high standard. + +The first fortnight of the term was feverish. Corps work was revivified +under the stimulus of war; the field days by Babylon Hill provided +genuine excitement, in spite of the prolixity of Rogers's subsequent +summary of the day's work. There were going to be very few football +matches; but "uppers" were played with the old keenness, and there was +fierce competition for the last places in the scrum. Ferrers wrote a +long article to _The Country_ on "The Public Schools and the War," which +bubbled over with enthusiasm. + +Gordon found authority a pleasant thing. There were, of course, bound to +be little worries, but they were transient. The new boys caused him a +certain amount of trouble. They never would take the trouble to find out +if they were posted for House games. The result was that as often as not +the House found itself playing with only six forwards. Gordon made a +speech to the House on the subject. The very next day Golding, a most +wretched-looking specimen, failed to turn up on a House game. + +Gordon gave him a lecture on the insignificance of the new boy and the +importance of games. + +"This sort of thing can't go on," he said, using the formula that every +prefect has used since the day prefects were first made. "If it did, we +might find everyone cutting House games and going off to pick-ups! What +would happen then?" + +Golding was far too frightened to have any views on the subject. + +"Well, I shall have to beat you." + +Gordon led the way to the empty space by the cloisters where roll was +called. + +"Bend over there!" + +Golding showed a natural reluctance to do anything of the sort. + +"No, right down; and lift up your coat." + +Gordon gave him a fairly hard stroke. Golding squealed "Oh!" and rose, +holding his trousers, and looking round fretfully. Gordon's heart +melted. After all, this was a new kid, and a pretty poor specimen at +that. + +The next shot was very gentle. + +The sequel reached Gordon three days later. Golding had gone back down +to the day-room. Rudd was taking hall, which was, of course, an excuse +for everyone to talk. + +"How many?" asked several voices. "Did he hurt?" + +"Oh, only one and a half," announced Golding, puffed out with pride. +"First hardly hurt me at all, and the second one was quite a misfire." + +This was rather a surprise to those who remembered Gordon's driving +power. Golding was thought rather a "lad" after all. + +Gordon, however, soon dispelled this illusion. A week later he went down +to the House game in which Golding was playing and cursed him roundly +all the afternoon with perfect justice. After tea he gave him six for +slacking: and all delusions about Golding's bravery were immediately +dispelled. + +"Damned little tick," said Gordon. "He made such a fuss that I let him +off lightly, and then he goes down to the day-room and makes out I am a +wreck. Collins, I charge thee, put away compassion! It does not pay with +these degenerates." + +There is nothing more interesting to the artist than watching a thing +grow under one's hand. And Gordon, who had the ambition of the artist in +embryo, was thoroughly engrossed in the training of his House sides. A-K +Junior was a promising side; it beat Claremont's by twenty points, and +Rogers's by over fifty. + +Morgan captained the side, and was easily the best man in it, but among +the lesser lights there was a great display of energy, much of it +misplaced. The worst offender was Bray. To watch him play was to witness +a gladiatorial display of frightfulness. His fists flew about like a +flail, his legs were everywhere. On the whole he did more damage to his +own side than to his opponents. And the amount of energy he wasted every +game in hacking the bodies of any who got in his way must have been +exhausting. Gordon had to speak to him almost severely once or twice. + +In the game against Rogers's, Bray nearly got sent off the field. There +had been a tight scrum which had more or less collapsed. The whistle +blew. Jenks had been persuaded to referee. + +"Now then, form up properly there." + +When the two scrums assorted themselves, Bray was discovered about five +yards from the ball, sitting on the head of a wretched, fat, unwashed +product of Rogers's, punching him violently and ejaculating after each +punch: + +"Damn you! Damn you! Damn you!" + +Jenks looked very fierce. + +"Now then, you stupid fellows. If you go on like that, I shall have to +report you to the Headmaster, and you know what that will mean." + +Bray looked a little frightened, and for the future devoted his energies +to the football and not the footballers, to the distinct advantage of +the side. + +But Gordon began to find that the more his interest increased in House +games, the less interest he took in uppers and Fifteen puntabouts. He +was always wanting to go and see how his House was getting on. As soon +as the first keenness wore off he found the interminable "uppers," +totally unrelieved by the excitement of matches, amazingly dull. Indeed, +the whole school side was beginning to grow weary. Every Monday and +Thursday there was a puntabout. Every Tuesday and Saturday there was the +same game--First Fifteen _v._ Second Fifteen--with one or two masters, +such as Christy, who were no longer as young as they had been. The +result was invariably the same; the First Fifteen won by forty points, +and were cursed by "the Bull" for not winning by sixty. No one could +possibly enjoy such monotony. Every week the business became more +unpopular. + +"The Bull" stamped up and down with a whistle in his hand. + +"I never saw such slackness. What good do you imagine you men will be in +the trenches, if you can't last out a short game of rugger like this? I +don't know what the school is coming to!" + +The side, which had never been good, got worse daily. As a captain, the +younger Akerman was a nonentity. Buller was captain of the side in +everything but name. + +"You know, Foster," said Gordon one Saturday evening after a more than +usually dreary performance, "these uppers are getting about the ruddy +limit." + +"Have you taken all this time to find that out?" growled Foster. "I used +to like footer once. Last year we had a good time on those Colts games. +Of course the old buffalo lost his hair a good deal, but the games were +level at any rate. I can see no sort of fun in winning every time by +forty points. Why can't we have pick-up games, so as to get level +sides." + +"I suppose 'the Bull' wants to get the side working together." + +"Perhaps he does; but why, if there are going to be no matches till +half-way through November? The Downside match is four weeks off, and +till then we have to continue this silly farce twice a week. And, after +all, it does not teach us defence in the least. Our three-quarter men +have not to do any collaring. If we run up against a side that is any +use at attack, we shall be hopelessly dished." + +"I think we shall be dished anyhow. And I am damned if I care much. +Buller has knocked all the keenness out of me, and the rest of the side +say the same thing. Do you know, I actually look forward to Corps parade +day." + +"The same with me. I am fed to death with footer." + +"Still we are having a jolly good time off the field." + +"Are we?" + +"Oh, yes; we are prefects; we haven't got to do any work, and it's +interesting coaching the kids." + +Foster looked dubiously at him. He had no side to coach. He also had to +do some work for his Sandhurst exam. next term. But Gordon's crown was +as yet too fresh to feel the tarnishing damp of disappointment. + + * * * * * + +October went by with its red-gold leaves and amber sunlight. November +swept in bringing a procession of long evenings and flickering lights. +The first boom of the war fever died down. The Fifteen played +listlessly, Upper followed Upper. Puntabout followed puntabout. No one +cared who was in the side. Foster was left out--and thanked heaven! + +"I am about sick of being cursed off my feet, and told I shall be no +good in the trenches because I miss my passes. 'The Bull' has gone +war-mad." + +Gordon _had_ to keep in the side; it would not do for the House captain +to get a reputation for slackness. His play lacked its old fire and +dash, but was still good enough to earn him his place. He knew he was +going off; that he was not nearly so good as he had been the year +before; the thought worried him. But still A-K Junior was doing very +well. + +One Saturday evening there came the sound of thumping feet down the +passage, someone banged himself against the door, and a well-known voice +was shouting: + +"Hullo, Caruthers, my lad!" + +Gordon swung round to find Mansell, with out-stretched hand, looking +magnificent in the top-boots and spurs of the R.F.A. + +"Come in. Sit down. By Jove! this is like old times. I must call up +Archie! Archie!... Here's someone to see you." + +Mansell was just the same as he had been a year ago, a little older, a +little stronger, a little more the man of the world. He was full of +stories; how his men had nearly mutinied because they thought their +separation allowance insufficient; how he had chased deserters half +across England; how he had taken the pretty waitress at the café to the +music hall. + +"It's life, that's what it is! I never knew what life was till I went to +Bournemouth. Oh, my God, we do have a time! Damned hard work, of course, +but we do have a time in the evenings! My lord, I nearly put my foot in +it the other night. I saw the devil of a smart girl walking down the +street, and I could have sworn I knew her. I went up and said: 'Coming +for a stroll?' O Lord, you should have seen her turn round. I thought +she would fetch a policeman. And we have a jolly good footer side, too. +We fairly smashed the S.W.B. last week. Oh, it's grand. But, still, I +suppose you are not having a bad time here. It's good to see you lads +again." + +On the next day Mansell stood an enormous tea in the games study. +Everyone of any importance came. The gramophone played, songs were sung. +Never was there seen so much food before. Mansell seemed like a Greek +god who had for a moment descended to earth to reveal a glimpse of what +Olympus was like. + +Gordon went down and saw him off by the five-forty-five. + +"My word! I envy you, Mansell," he said. + +"I shouldn't. I often wish I was back again in the House. All those old +days with Claremont and Trundle, the footer; and all that. We had a +darned fine time. Make the most of it while you've got it." + +As Gordon walked back alone, he had the unpleasant feeling that the best +was over, that the days of ragging, of footer, of Claremont, of Trundle +had gone beyond recall. The friends of his first term, Hunter, Lovelace, +Mansell, they had all gone, scattered to the winds. He alone remained, +and with a sudden pain he wondered whether he had not outlived his day, +whether, like Tithonus, he was not taking more than he had been meant to +take. But then, as he walked through the small gateway, and majestically +wandered up the Chief's drive, he reflected that, even if his splendour +was a lonely one, without the laughter and comradeship he could have +wished for, yet it was none the less a splendour. He must hold on. As +Mansell had said, he must make the best of it while he had it. + +A small boy came up nervously. + +"Please, Caruthers, may I have leave off games for a week? I have had a +bad foot." + +"Did Matron say so?" + +"Oh yes." + +"All right, then." + +He walked up the stairs to his study, smiling to himself. What had he +been fretting himself about? He had his power. He had the things he had +wanted. + + "_Is it not brave to be a king?_ + _Is it not passing brave to be a king_ + _And ride in triumph through Persepolis?_" + +Marlowe had been right, Marlowe with the pagan soul that loved material +things, glitter and splendour, crowns and roses, red lips and gleaming +arms. + + "_A god is not so glorious as a king ..._ + _To ask and have, command and be obeyed._" + +And there was no doubt he was a king. He must make the best of his +kingdom while he held it. + + + + +CHAPTER II: SETTING STARS + + +The same atmosphere of monotonous depression that overhung football soon +began to affect the military side of school life as well. At first there +had been the spur of novelty. The substitution of platoon drill for the +old company routine and the frequent field days led to keenness. But +even the most energetic get weary of doing exactly the same thing three +times a week. There are only three different formations in platoon +drill, which anyone can learn in half-an-hour; and the days were long +past when Gordon's extraordinary commands would form his platoon into an +impossible rabble that could only be extricated by the ungrammatical +but effective command that School House section commanders had used from +the first day of militarism: "As you did ought." + +Those days were over. No mistakes. For thirty-five minutes every Monday, +Wednesday and Friday the School House platoon would move round the +courts in lifeless and perfect formation. And by now the School had +begun to suspect that the field days were conducted mainly to satisfy +Rogers's inordinate conceit. His house had always the advantage. The +limit of endurance was reached one day early in November, when Rogers +took his house out to defend Babylon Hill against the rest of the corps. + +The attack was really rather brilliant. Babylon Hill overlooks the +country for miles. There was a splendid field of fire. It was a boiling +hot day. Rogers's men lay happily on the hill firing spasmodically at +khaki figures crawling up the long valley. Their position seemed +impregnable. + +Early in the proceedings, however, Ferrers, who was conducting the +attack, sent Betteridge with the School House platoon on an enormous +detour to bring in a flank attack. If successful the School House +platoon would be quite sufficient to wipe out the defence, and Rogers +would never notice their loss, as they were sent off at a moment when +the attack was crossing some dead ground. + +Forlorn hopes occasionally come off, and, by a fluke, at the very moment +when the attack surged over the crest of the hill, Betteridge's +exhausted platoon, with shouts and cheers, burst into Rogers's flank. +There was not the slightest doubt that the defence had been cut to +pieces. + +For a minute or two Rogers looked perplexed at the sea of enemies. Then +with customary urbanity he told Ferrers to form up his men and seat them +on the ground, while he gave his impression of the day's work. + +"I think the attack was quite satisfactory. Of course, it stood little +chance against the well-organised defence for which I myself was in a +way responsible. I believe most of the forces would have been destroyed +coming up the hill. But I think the day had a good effect on the morale +of the troops. Now morale----" He enlarged on the qualities of morale +and discipline for about ten minutes, and concluded with the following +courteous reference to the School House flanking movement:-- + +"I could not clearly discern what those persons were doing who came up +on my left. They would have been entirely wiped out. I considered it +somewhat foolish." + +A contemptuous titter broke from the School House platoon, in which +amusement and annoyance were equally mixed. + +"What is the good of trying at all?" said Gordon at tea that night. +"There were we, sweating over ploughed fields, banging through fences, +racing up beastly paths, and then that mouthing prelate says 'rather +silly'! What's the use of trying?" + +"There is none," said Betteridge. "I am going to conduct this platoon in +future on different lines. 'Evil be thou my good,' as the lad Milton +said. We will be unorthodox, original and rebellious." + +A few days later, Gordon and Rudd saw displayed in a boot-shop window a +wondrous collection of coloured silk shoe-laces. + +"Does anyone really wear those things?" said Gordon. + +"I suppose so, or they wouldn't show them." + +"They are certainly amazing." + +They stood looking at them as one would at a heathen god. Then suddenly +Gordon clutched Rudd's sleeve. + +"A notion! My word, a notion! Let's buy some pairs and wear them at +platoon drill to-morrow." + +Gordon was about to burst in to the shop when Rudd detained him. + +"Steady, man, this is a great idea. Let's buy enough for the whole +platoon. It will be a gorgeous sight! Let's fetch Betteridge." + +Flinging prefectorial dignity to the winds, they rushed down to the +studies. + +"Betteridge, you've got to let us draw upon the House funds for a good +cause." + +They poured out the idea. Betteridge was enthusiastic. For six shillings +they bought forty pairs of coloured laces. + +At twelve-thirty next morning a huge crowd lined up under the lindens to +watch the School House parade. Rumour had flown round. + +It was a noble spectacle. Each section wore a different coloured +shoe-lace. Gordon's wore pale blue, Rudd's pink, Foster's green, and +Collin's orange. Everyone was shaking with laughter. Betteridge formed +the platoon up in line facing the School House dormitories; sooner or +later Rogers would pass by on his way from the common room. At last he +was sighted turning the corner of the Chief's drive. Half the school had +assembled by the gates. + +"Private Morgan," shouted Betteridge, "fall out and do up your +shoe-lace. + +"Remainder--present ARMS!" + +Rogers was far too self-satisfied and certain of his own importance to +see that the demonstration was meant for him. But the school saw it, and +so did certain members of the staff, who made everything quite clear to +Rogers that afternoon. Finally, the Chief learnt of the affair. +Betteridge got a lecture on military discipline and on prefectorial +dignity. But a good many of the younger masters thoroughly enjoyed the +rag, and the story of the coloured shoe-laces is still recounted in +common room, when Rogers has made himself unusually tedious about his +own virtues and his cleverness in scoring off his enemies. + + + + +CHAPTER III: ROMANCE + + +The Tonford match was a sad travesty of Fernhurst football. The school +lost by over forty points. Gordon got his "Seconds," in company with +nearly the entire Fifteen. He was not very elated. These things had lost +their value. Still, it was as well to have them. + +The school authorities then came to the conclusion that the expense of +travelling was too great during war-time, and the Dulbridge match was +scratched. + +The Fifteen continued to play uppers. There was nothing to train for. +There was no chance of there being any matches, but the same routine +went on. + +It was in this period of depression that Gordon began to take an +interest in Morcombe. + +Morcombe was considerably Gordon's junior; not so much in years--there +was, as a matter of fact, only a few months between them--as in +position. Morcombe had come late; had made little mark at either footer +or cricket; and had drifted into the Army class, where, owing to private +tuition and extra hours, he found himself somewhat "out of it" in the +House. In hall he used to sit at the top of the day-room table. + +Gordon very rarely took hall. He generally managed to find someone to +assume the duty for him; but one day everyone seemed engaged on some +pursuit or other, so with every anticipation of a dull evening he went +down to hall. He began to read Shelley but the surroundings were +unpropitious. All about him sat huddled fragments of humanity scratching +half-baked ideas with crossed nibs into dog-eared notebooks. There was a +general air of unrest. Gordon tried _Sinister Street_; some of the +episodes in Lepard Street were more in harmony with his feelings, but +there was in Compton Mackenzie's prose a Keats-like perfection of phrase +which seemed almost as much out of place as _Adonais_. As a last resort +he began to talk to the two boys nearest him, Bray and Morcombe. Bray +always amused him; his whole outlook on life was so exactly like his +footer. But for once Gordon found him dull. Morcombe was so much more +interesting. + +In second hall that evening Gordon discovered from a House list that +Morcombe was in the Army class. He consulted Foster on the subject. + +"Know anything about a lad called Morcombe?" + +"Yes; he is in the Army class. Rather a fool. Why?" + +"Oh, nothing. I was talking to him in hall to-night. He didn't seem so +bad." + +"Perhaps he isn't. I haven't taken much interest in him." + +"I see." + +Gordon returned to his book. Five minutes later he began again. + +"Is Morcombe fairly high in form?" + +"Not very. Why this sudden interest?" + +"Nothing." + +Foster looked at him for a second, then burst out laughing. + +"What the hell's the matter with you?" said Gordon. + +"Oh, nothing." + +Gordon looked fierce, and returned once more to the history of Michael +Fane. + +Two nights later Gordon came into his study to find Morcombe sitting +with Foster, preparing some con. + +"Hope you don't mind me bringing this lad in," said Foster, "I am in +great difficulties with some con." + +Gordon grunted, and proceeded to bury himself in _The Pot of Basil_. + +"I say, Caruthers," broke in Foster. "You might help us with this +Vergil? It's got us licked. Here you are: look, 'Fortunate Senex----'" + +Gordon went through the familiar passage with comparative ease. + +"There now, you see," said Foster, "there's some use in these Sixth Form +slackers after all. By the way, what did you think of Claremont's sermon +last night?" + +Conversation flowed easily. Morcombe was quick, and, at times, amusing. +Gordon unaccountably found himself trying to appear at his best. + +"You know," he was saying, "I do get so sick of these masters who go +about with the theory of 'God's in his heaven, all's right with the +world,' and in war-time, too! With all these men falling, and no advance +being made from day to day." + +"Yes," said Morcombe; "I agree with the 'much good, but much less good +than ill' philosophy." + +Gordon was surprised out of himself. + +"I shouldn't have thought you had read the _Shropshire Lad_." + +"We are not all Philistines, you know." + +Thus began a friendship entirely different from any Gordon had known +before. He did not know what his real sentiments were; he did not even +attempt to analyse them. He only knew that when he was with Morcombe he +was indescribably happy. There was something in him so natural, so +unaffected, so sensitive to beauty. After this Morcombe came up to +Gordon's study nearly every evening, and usually Foster left them alone +together, and went off in search of Collins. + +Indeed this friendship, coupled with his admiration for Ferrers, was all +that kept Gordon from wild excesses during the dark December days and +the drear opening weeks of the Easter term. During the long morning +hours, when Gordon was supposed to be reading history, more than once +there came over him a wish to plunge himself into the feverish waters of +pleasure, and forget for a while the doubts and disappointments that +overhung everything in his life. At times he would sit in the big +window-seat, when the school was changing class-rooms, and as he saw the +sea of faces of those, some big, some small, who had drifted with the +stream, and had soon forgotten early resolutions and principles in the +conveniently broadminded atmosphere of a certain side of Public School +life, he realised how easily he could slip into that life and be +engulfed. No one would mind; his position would be the same; no one +would think worse of him. Unless, of course, he was caught. Then +probably everyone would turn round upon him; that was the one +unforgivable sin--to be found out. But it was rarely that anyone was +caught; and the descent was so easy. In his excitement he might perhaps +forget a little. + +And then, perhaps, Ferrers would come rushing up to his study, aglow +with health and clean, fresh existence. And he would talk of books and +poetry, and life and systems, and Gordon would realise the ugliness of +his own misgivings when set beside the noble idealism of art. Ferrers +was not a preacher; he never lectured anyone. He believed in setting +boys high ideals. "We needs must love the highest when we see it." And +during these months his influence on Gordon was tremendous. + +Then, when the long evenings came, with Morcombe sitting in the games +study, his face flushed with the glow of the leaping fire, talking of +Keats and Shelley, himself a poem, Gordon used to wonder how he could +ever have wished to dabble in ugly things, out of his cowardice to face +the truth. Those evenings were, in fact, the brightest of his Fernhurst +days; their happiness was unsubstantial, inexplicable, incomprehensible, +but none the less a real happiness. + +They vanished, however; and the day would begin again, with the lonely +hours of morning school, when Gordon realised once more the emptiness +of his position, and how hopelessly he had failed to do any of the +things he had set out to do. + + * * * * * + +The state of affairs was summed up by Archie Fletcher in the last week +of the Christmas term. + +"This place is simply ghastly, all the best fellows have gone," he said. +"Next term we shall have Rudd head of the House. All the young masters +have gone, and we are left with fossils, fretting because they are too +old to fight, and making our lives unbearable because we are too young. +As soon as I am old enough I mean to go and fight; but I can't stick the +way these masters croak away about the trenches all day long. If you +play badly at rugger you are asked what use you will be in a regiment. +If your French prose is full of howlers, you are told that slackers +aren't wanted in the trenches. Damn it all, we know that all these +O.F.'s who are now fighting in France slacked at work and cribbed; and +they weren't all in the Fifteen. And splendid men they are, too. +Fernhurst isn't what it was. Last term we had a top-hole set of chaps, +and I loved Fernhurst, but I am not going to stick here now. I am going +back home till I am eighteen. Then I'll go and fight. This is no place +for me." + +It was the requiem of all "the old dreams"; and Gordon knew it for his +own as well. + +During the Christmas holidays Gordon tried to forget as far as possible +Fernhurst, and all that Fernhurst stood for. More and more he found +himself turning for consolation to the poets; but now it was to +different poets that he turned. The battle-cry of Byron, the rebel flag +of Swinburne lost their hold over him. He himself was so entangled in +strife that he wanted soothing companions. In the poetry of Ernest +Dowson he read something of his own failure to realise the things he had +hoped for. _Endymion_, rolling like a stream through valleys and wooden +plains, carried him outside the hoarse babble of voices; _Comus_ lulled +him into a temporary security with its abundance of perfect imagery. He +discovered The Poetry Bookshop in Devonshire Street and went there for +the evening readings. There was a perfect serenity in the small room at +the top of the wooden stairs, with the dark blue curtains, the intent +faces, the dim, shaded lights, the low voice reading. He wished that +thus, in some monastic retreat, he might spend his whole life in a world +of dreams and illusions. But he realised that the hold of life was too +strong on him. At the same time he loved and hated the blare of +trumpets, the stretching plain, the spears glimmering in the sun. He had +sought for power and position; yet when they were won he despised them. +The future was impenetrable. But he returned for the Easter term +determined to do his duty by the House, however much he might disappoint +himself. + +On the very first day of the term "the Bull" called him up. + +"You remember," he began, "there was some talk last year about altering +the conditions of the Three Cock. I think it would be much better in +every way if we could come to some arrangement by which you should play +against two houses instead of three. Conditions are so very changed. +When the match was started you had ninety boys and each outhouse had +thirty. Now you have under seventy and each outhouse over thirty-five. +It is ten years now since you won, and it is a pity it is not more of a +game. Your men can't enjoy it, and I know mine don't. What do you +think?" + +"I think we would all rather go on as we are at present, sir." + +"But don't you see how hard it is for you ever to win?" + +"Yes, sir; and it is also rather hard for us to accept charity." + +"Of course, I can't force anything on you. It is a matter for you to +decide. But it does seem a pity to make a match like the Three Cock a +permanent farce, merely because you are too proud to see that you can't +take on the whole school. We'll discuss the matter at the end of the +term again." + +When the House learnt of this interview it raged furiously. + +"Confounded insolence calling it a farce," said Foster. "And, after all, +we stand a chance of winning. Heavens! we will boot them to blazes." + +Everyone in the School House considered the idea of a change +preposterous. Gordon alone realised that the present was an impossible +state of affairs. Sixty-four against a hundred and twenty! They couldn't +hope to win more than once in six years. He pointed this out to Morcombe +in second hall that evening. + +"As a matter of fact, if we win this year, I believe I shall go to 'the +Bull' and offer to change it." + +"But why?" said Morcombe. "There are times when I can't understand you, +and this is one of them. Surely, if we win, it is a proof that we are +good enough to go on playing! Why stop then?" + +"Because, if we did win, it would be only once in a way. And I can't +bear to think of our giving in after a beating by seventy points. It is +an anti-climax. I would much rather lay down our privilege willingly. +That's why I admire Sulla so much. At the very height of his power he +laid it down, and went into a glorious retirement. His is the most +dramatic exit in history. I should like the House to do that. We have +taken on too big a thing. We have got to give in sooner or later." + +"Perhaps so," said Morcombe; "and I suppose 'the Bull' thinks you are +thoroughly conceited and proud." + +"I believe so," said Gordon. "But let us talk about something else." + + * * * * * + +As a whole the Easter term began far more satisfactorily than the +Christmas term had ended. + +There were no "uppers." House captains ran everything. Morgan had been +promoted into the Lower Sixth, and Gordon found him a most entertaining +person. Naturally clever and naturally indolent, Morgan's work presented +a strange contrast. He and Gordon would settle down to prepare +_OEdipus Tyrannus_ for Finnemore. They would begin lethargically. +After ten lines Morgan would ask whether they had done enough; Gordon +would fling a book at his head; somehow or other they would slop through +thirty lines. Then Morgan would shut his book, and refuse to do any +more. + +"Thirty lines is enough for Finnemore, and, besides, I feel rather slack +to-night." + +Gordon did not take the trouble to point out that the same feeling of +slackness overcame him every night. + +They would both pull up their chairs in front of the fire, and waste the +rest of hall talking. The next morning, however, Gordon would discover +that the lines they had prepared the night before conveyed no meaning to +him at all. He would curse Morgan, and then go up to the library, rout +out Jebbs' translation, and prepare the Greek. Then he would move across +to school with the contented feeling of work well done. + +Morgan would be put on to con. Gordon would wait, laughing to himself. +He was sure Morgan would make an awful mess of things. But somehow or +other Morgan always managed to translate it correctly, if not stylishly. + +"Morgan, you did that again when I wasn't there," Gordon would say +afterwards. + +"Oh no; we prepared it pretty well last night for a change." + +After a while Gordon got used to this apparent miracle; but he himself +had invariably to consult the English authority. He did not tell Morgan +that. The climax was reached when Finnemore, who liked Gordon and +thought him rather clever, wrote in Morgan's report: "He relies rather +too much on Caruther's help for his Sophocles translation." It was an +interpretation that had occurred to neither. + + + + +CHAPTER IV: THE DAWN OF NOTHING + + +Slowly the Easter term moved on. As the days went by the sense of +failure, which had overhung everything Gordon had done the term before, +returned with an increased poignancy. The Thirds ended in a defeat which +was rendered no more pleasant by the fact that it was inevitable. No one +expected the House to win. The defeat was no reflection on Gordon's +leadership. The Chief, in fact, said to him: "We were much too small a +side, Caruthers, but I think we put up a plucky fight. You haven't +anything to grumble at. We did much better than I expected." + +But Gordon was always too prone to judge by results. He contrasted the +game with last year's triumphs, and with the glorious defeat of the +year before, which had brought more honour than many victories. It was +very different from what he had hoped for. There would not be much to +remember his captaincy by. + +One morning towards the middle of February he was glancing down the +casualty list, when he saw Jeffries's name among those killed. He put +the paper down, and walked very quietly across to his study. Jeffries +was well out of it, perhaps; but still Gordon wished he could have seen +him once more. That last terrible scene in Study 16 rose before his +eyes. He could almost hear the bang of the Chief's door. And now +Jeffries was dead; and no one would care. A master, perhaps, might +notice his name and say: "Just as well; he would have made a mess of his +life." They had never known Jeffries. + +"You look rather upset this morning," murmured Morgan from a corner of +the room. Gordon had not noticed him. + +"I am rather; a chap who had a study with me ... Jeffries ... he is in +the casualty list this morning." + +"A.R. Jeffries?" + +"Yes. But you didn't know him, did you?" + +"Oh no; but I saw his photo in a winning Thirds group." + +"Yes, that would be him. He was a fine forward." + +Gordon was glad to think that that was what his friend was remembered +for. Only the good remained. It was as Jeffries would have wished.... + +The Two Cock drew near. There had been a good chance of winning once, +but influenza had played havoc with the side. Gordon told them they were +going to win, encouraged them, presented a smiling face, but his heart +was heavy. He saw another cup going to join the silver regiment on the +Buller's sideboard. He had never found life quite so hard before; only +Morgan's unshatterable optimism, Ferrer's volcanic energy, and his own +friendship for Morcombe made things bearable at all. And yet he had all +the things he had once wanted. Now Betteridge had left, he was +indisputably the big man in the House. Rudd was a broken reed. At last +he began to see that the mere trappings of power might deceive the +world, but not their wearer. + +A week before the Two Cock Tester paid an unexpected week-end visit. He +was full of vitality and exuberance. He was just the same, debonair, +light-hearted, thoroughly happy. Everyone was pleased to see him; he was +pleased to see everyone. He was almost hilarious. But as Gordon watched +him carefully, his mirth seemed like that of Byron in _Don Juan_, +laughter through his tears. The others did not notice, because they had +never known Tester. + +Just after prayers he met Tester on his way back from supper with the +Chief. + +"Hullo! I have been looking for you," he said; "come for a stroll round +the courts." + +"Well," said Tester, as soon as they were out of earshot, "what do you +make of it?" + +"Pretty awful." + +"Yes, I suppose you have seen a good many ideals go tumbling down. All +our generation has been sacrificed; of course it is inevitable. But it +is rather hard. The older men have seen some of their hopes realised; we +shall see none. I don't know when this war will end; not just yet, I +think. But whenever it does, just as far as we are concerned the days of +roses will be over. For the time being art and literature are dead. Look +at the rotten stuff that's being written to-day. At the beginning we +were deceived by the tinsel of war; Romance dies hard. But we know now. +We've done with fairy tales. There is nothing glorious in war, no good +can come of it. It's bloody, utterly bloody. I know it's inevitable, but +that's no excuse. So are rape, theft, murder. It's a bloody business. +Oh, Caruthers, my boy, the world will be jolly Philistine the next few +years. Commercialism will be made a god." + +"Do you mean there is going to be nothing for us after the war?" said +Gordon. + +"Not for you or me; for the masses, perhaps. No one can go through this +without having his senses dulled, his individuality knocked out of him. +It will take at least twenty years to recover what we have lost, and +there won't be much fire left in you and me by then. Oh, I can tell you +I am frightened of what's coming after. I can't face it. Of course there +may be a great revival some day. Do you remember what Rupert Brooke +said in _Second Best_ about there waiting for the 'great unborn some +white tremendous daybreak'? That's what may happen. But our generation +will have been sacrificed for it. I suppose we should not grumble. But +we only live once. Do you remember that day of the Radley match, and +what I said about Oxford? I longed for Oxford. I wanted to begin life +over again, to sweep out the past. I was beginning to realise what +beauty meant. And then down comes the war. And I don't suppose I shall +ever have a chance now. I don't know whether there is an after life or +not, but if there is, I shall cut a pretty sorry figure, if there is +going to be a judgment. Well, it is my own fault. I put things off too +late. But I should have been a different chap, I think, if----" + +Foster's voice rang out across the night: + +"Come on, you two. What are you doing out there? The coffee's boiling +over. Buck up." + +"Right you are." + +In a second Tester had resumed his old pose of indifference. He played +his part through thoroughly; no one, as he danced with Collins up and +down the narrow study, would have associated him with the despairing +philosopher of a few moments ago. Gordon looked at him in amazement. +What a consummate actor he was! How successfully he kept his true +character to himself. + +Early on the Sunday morning he went back to his regiment. Gordon walked +down to the station with him. + +"I am going to the front in about a week, you know," said Tester, as +they were standing on the platform. + +"Good Lord! man, why didn't you tell us before?" + +"Oh, I don't know. I didn't want them all unburdening themselves to +me.... Here's the train. Well, good-bye, Caruthers. Good luck." + +"Thanks awfully; and mind you come back all right." + +Tester smiled at him rather sadly. + +"I am not coming back," he said. + + * * * * * + +The Two Cock came and went. The score was not very high against the +House. But it was a poor game. The school deserved to win, because they +played less badly than the House. But there was very little life in the +game. This may have been due to a heavy field day two days before; but +whatever it was, the result was pitiable. Gordon had almost ceased to +expect anything. Day followed day. Everyone was discontented; even +Ferrers began to doubt whether the war was having such a good effect on +the Public Schools after all. He said as much in an article in _The +Country_. He was always saying things in _The Country_. It was his +clearing ground. + +The Three Cock drew near. And each day Gordon began to think the House +less likely to win. He had watched the outhouses play, and knew how good +they were. One afternoon the Buller's captain challenged the House to a +friendly game. A very hard game resulted in a draw. There was nothing to +choose between the sides. And in the Three Cock Buller's would have +Claremont's and Rogers's to help them. + +There were discussions in the House as to whether the score would be +kept under twenty. Someone suggested it would have been a much better +game if they had accepted "the Bull's" offer of playing two houses +instead of three. When the day came the outhouse bloods were confidently +laying three to one on their chances of running up a score of over +thirty. + +As Gordon sat in his study after lunch, before going down to change, he +found it hard to believe that this was actually the day that he and his +friends had looked forward to for so long. It was to have marked the +start of a new era of School House greatness. It was to have been the +beginning of the new epoch. With a slightly cynical smile he compared it +with the way in which the Germans had toasted "Der Tag!" Both results +would be much the same. Lethargically he got up, put a coal or two on +the fire, and went down to change. + +The game followed much the same course that other Three Cocks had +followed during the last four years. For the first half the House did +fairly well, and kept the score down to thirteen to nil. Collins played +magnificently; Morgan was in form; Gordon himself was not conspicuous. +Then came the second half, when the light School House pack grew tired, +and was pushed about all over the field. The cheering of tries grew +desultory, and unenthusiastic. The final score was forty-seven to nil. + +"You know, Caruthers," said Collins on the way up from the field, "we +should have done better to have only taken on two houses." + +"Yes," said Gordon shortly. + +As soon as he had changed, he went over to "the Bull's" study. He had +already decided that it would be better to alter the condition of the +match once and for all. It meant to him the complete failure of all his +plans. He had set out to lead the House to victory. In the end not only +had he retired, he had actually surrendered. + +"The Bull" received him kindly. + +"Ah, come round about the match, Caruthers?" + +"Yes, sir. I think we had better play a Two Cock in future. Three houses +are a good deal more than we can take on." + +"Well, of course, I had seen that all along," said "the Bull." "It _is_ +too much. The conditions are so changed. Of course, we can't do this +without the consent of the Games Committee. I think we had better have a +meeting to-morrow afternoon. You might tell the others, will you?" + +On the next day after lunch the Games Committee met in "the Bull's" +study. "The Bull" stood with his back to the fireplace. + +"As you know, I have called you here this afternoon about the Three +Cock. Of course conditions have so changed that it would be no +reflection on the School House----" + +"The Bull" went on. Gordon sat forward on the sofa listening +subconsciously. Scenes rose before his mind. Of Mansell two years back, +after Richard's Thirds, saying: "Wait till 1915." Of Hazelton in the +dormitory saying: "Our day's coming, and you'll see it, Caruthers." +Everyone had expected this year to a triumph. And here he was signing +the death warrant of School House football. + +"The Bull" had finished speaking.... A resolution was passed.... + +"It is a lovely day," said "the Bull," "and I don't want to keep you in. +I expect you all want to be out doing something." + +Gordon got out of the study somehow or other. + +One of the Games Committee came up to him. + +"Jolly good idea of 'the Bull's,' I think. It was much too big a job for +you. Much better arrangement." + +"Oh, much." + +Gordon went back to the old games study, the very walls of which seemed +eloquent with voices of the dead. The rest of the House had gone for a +run. He was all alone. His head fell forward on his hands. The captaincy +he had tried so hard to gain had ended in pitiable failure. It was the +desolation, the utter desolation!... + +Of all that he had worked for during those four years nothing remained, +nothing. + +And as Gordon's mind dwelt on this the love of the monastic life which +had so overwhelmed him the holidays before swept over him again with +renewed vigour. In the Roman Church at any rate was there not something +permanent? _Quod semper, quod ubique, quod ab omnibus...._ That boast +was surely not in vain. He longed to surrender himself completely, to +fling away his own aims and inclinations, and abandon himself to a life +of quiet devotion safe from the world. It was the natural reaction. He +had been tossed on the waters of trouble and had grown weary of strife. +In Plato's _Republic_ Ulysses asked for the life of a private individual +free from care. "After battle sleep is best. After noise, tranquillity." +Dowson's exquisite lines on the _Nuns of the Perpetual Adoration_ came +back to him: + + "_They saw the glory of the world displayed,_ + _They saw the bitter of it and the sweet._ + _They knew the roses of the world would fade_ + _And be trod under by the hurrying feet._ + _Therefore they rather put away desire...._" + +That was what he wanted, to merge himself into the great silent poetry +of the Catholic life. The Protestant creed could never give him what he +wanted. There was too much tolerance, too much sheltering of the +individuality; he wanted a complete, an utter surrender. He passed the +entire holidays in the world of ideas; he read nothing but poetry, or +what dealt with poetry. He tried to recapture the wonderful +full-blooded enjoyment of that last summer term. But for all that he +found material thoughts stealing in on his most sacred moments. A chance +phrase, a word even, and there would suddenly rise before him the +spectre of his own failure. And he was forced to realise that as yet he +was unfit to lay down the imperious burden of his own personality. The +hold of life was too strong. He still wanted the praise of the populace, +"the triumph and the roses and the wine." + +Well, there was one more term; let him make the most of the roses while +he could. In this state of indecision he returned for what was to be his +last term. + + * * * * * + +A big programme of First Eleven matches had been arranged; and the first +game was at Downside on the second Saturday of the term. Fernhurst won +with ease, and Gordon knocked up forty-two. The match was over before +tea; and, as the side had not to go back till six o'clock, they spent +the interval in walking round the grounds. + +Few schools are situated in more perfect surroundings than Downside. +There are wide gardens and flowery walks. Rhododendrons were flaming red +and white, a hedge of gorse shone gold. It was a Roman Catholic school, +and now and then a noble Calvary rose out of the flowers. The Abbey +watched over the place. Monks in long black robes moved about slowly, +magisterially. Gordon went up to one of them and spoke to him shyly. + +"A wonderful place this, sir." + +"Yes; it is the right sort of place to train a boy in. Surround him with +beautiful things, make a real perception of beauty the beacon light of +his life, when he is young, and he will be safe. For there are so many +things that are beautiful and poisonous like iridescent fungi, and it is +so hard to differentiate between the true and the false. But everything +here is so pure and unworldly that I think we manage to show our boys +what is the highest. We fail at times, but on the whole we succeed." + +He looked so kind, so sympathetic, this old man, that Gordon felt bound +to pour out his feelings to him. + +"You know, sir," he said, "I have awfully wanted to talk to a Roman +Catholic whom I thought would understand me, and especially one like +yourself, who has willingly abandoned all his own ambitions. There is +something very fine in the complete surrender of your Church. In ours +there is so much room for difference of opinion, so much toleration of +various doctrines. There seems so little certainty. In Rome there seems +no doubt at all." + +"Yes, the Catholic Faith is a very beautiful creed," said the old man; +"we are misjudged; we are called narrow-minded and bigoted. They say we +want to make everyone conform to one type, and that we bind them with +chains. But, my son, it is not with chains that the Holy Church binds +her children. It is with loving arms thrown round them. The Church loves +her children far too much to wish them to leave her even for a minute. +She wants them entirely, hers and hers alone. Perhaps you will say that +is selfish; but I do not think so. It is the great far-seeing love that +sees what is best for its own. Love is nearly always right. But if you +wish to keep your own views, to worship God in your own way, well, there +are other creeds. Protestantism, it seems to me, lets out its followers, +as it were, on strings and lets them wander about a little, laugh and +pluck flowers, in the certainty that at the last she can draw her own to +her. Well, that is one way of serving God, and in the Kingdom of God +there is no right or wrong way, provided the service be sincere. There +are many roads to heaven. Our road is one of an infinite love that draws +everything to itself. There are other ways; but that is ours." + +"But supposing there was a person," said Gordon, "who really wanted to +surrender himself to that perfect love, but who found the call of the +world too strong. You know, sir, I should give anything to be as you, +safe and secure. But I know I should break away; the world would call me +again. I should return, but when I give myself, I want to give myself +wholly, unconditionally. I want there to be no doubt; and I want to come +to-day." + +"I will tell you a story," said the monk. "I was a boy here years ago, +and there was one boy, brilliant at games and work, whom I admired very +much, and by the time I had myself reached a high position he came back +to us as a monk. I used to live in a little village, just behind that +hill, and I used to ask him down to supper sometimes. And I remember one +day my father said to him: 'You know, I envy you a lot.' + +"'Why?' he asked. + +"'Well,' said my father, 'as far as this world is concerned you are well +provided for. You live in beautiful surroundings, comfortable and happy. +And for the next world, as far as we know, no one could be more certain +of happiness than you.' + +"The young monk looked at my father rather curiously, and said: + +"'Perhaps so; but when I look round at your happy little family and your +home interests, I think we have given up a good deal.' + +"And only a year later that young man ran away with a girl in the +village, and he was excommunicated from the Church. And yet I expect +that the whole time he really loved our life best; only the call of +worldly things was too strong; and he was too weak." + +"Then what will be the end of me?" asked Gordon. + +"Wait, my son. I waited a long time before I knew for certain that God's +way was best, and that the things men worshipped were vain. Those are +the most fortunate, perhaps, who can see the truth at once, and go out +into the world spreading the truth by the influence of a blameless life. +But we are not all so strong as that. It takes a long time for us to be +quite certain; and even then we have to come and shut ourselves away +from the world. We are too weak. But we have our place. And in the end +you, too, I expect, will so probe the happiness and grief of the world +and find them of little value, and when you have, you will find the Holy +Church waiting for you. It does not matter when or how you come; only +you must bring yourself wholly. It is not so very much we ask of you. +And we give with so infinite a prodigality." + +"Yes," said Gordon, "I suppose there will be rest at last." + +That evening as he sat discussing the cricket match with Morgan the +captain of the school came in and gave him his "Firsts." Morgan was +profuse with congratulations. Everyone seemed pleased. It was the hour +he had long pictured in his imagination--the hour when he should get +his coveted "Firsts." He himself had wanted them so badly; but somehow +or other they did not mean very much just now. + + + + +CHAPTER V: THE THINGS THAT SEEM + + +But the heart of youth is essentially fickle; and Gordon's lambent +spirit, which had for some time almost ceased to strive for anything, +suddenly swept round to the other extreme, and was filled with the +desire to reassert itself at all costs. Suddenly, almost without +realising it, Gordon was fired with the wish to finish his school career +strongly, not to give way before adversity, but to end as he had begun. +He would be the Ulysses of Tennyson, not of Plato. "Though much is +taken, much abides ... 'tis not too late to seek a newer world." ... +Like a tiger he looked round, growling for his prey, and his opportunity +was not slow in coming. + +Ferrers was sitting in his study one afternoon, talking very +despondently about the general atmosphere at Fernhurst. + +"It is not what I had hoped for," he said; "in fact, it is quite the +reverse. The young masters are gone, the bloods are gone. The new +leaders are not sure of their feet, and these old pedants have taken +their chance of getting back their old power. And the whole school is +discontented, fed up; no keenness anywhere. The masters tell them: 'If +you aren't good at games you'll be useless in the trenches.' Wretched +boys begin to believe them. They think they are wrong, when really they +are just beginning to see the light. They are beginning to look at games +as they are. There's no glory attached to them now--no true +victories--glamour is all removed. They see games as they are, see the +things they have been worshipping all these years. But the masters tell +them games are right, they are wrong; it is their duty to do as others +did before them. Oh, I wish we could smash those cracked red spectacles +through which every Public School boy is forced to look at life." + +"But can't we, sir?" + +"It would be no good; they wouldn't believe you. I am getting sick. For +years I have been shouting out, and trying to prove to them what's +wrong. They won't believe. They are blind, and it is the masters' fault, +curse them. There they sit, talking and doing nothing. I begin to +worship that man, I forget his name, who said: 'Those who can, do--those +who can't, teach.' It sums up our modern education. It is all hypocrisy +and show." + +"But, sir," said Gordon, "we can't do much, but let's do what we can. +Now, when the glamour has fallen off athleticism, let's show the school +what wretched things they have been serving so long. If we can in any +way put a check on this nonsense now, if in Fernhurst only, we shall be +doing something. After the war we shall have a fine Fifteen winning +matches, and the school will feel its feet. We must stop it now--now, +when there is no glamour, when the school is tired of endless 'uppers,' +and sick of the whole business. Now's the time." + +"Yes; but how? This sort of thing doesn't happen in a night." + +"I know; but we can sow the seeds now. The Stoics is the thing. We can +have a debate on the 'Value of Athletics,' and, heavens! I bet the whole +House will vote against them. The House is sick of it all. We'll carry +the motion. We'll get the best men to speak. We'll give sound arguments. +Then we'll have formed a precedent. It will appear in the school +magazine that the Stoics, the representative society of Fernhurst +thought, has decided that the blind worship of games is harmful. It will +make the school think. It's a start, sir, it's a start." + +"You are right, Caruthers, you are right. We'll flutter the Philistine +dovecots." + +Gordon had not the slightest doubt about the success of the scheme. He +himself was at the very summit of his power. He had been making scores +for the Eleven out of all proportion to his skill; he was almost certain +for the batting cup. His influence was not to be discounted. He could +get the House to vote as he wanted; he was sure of it. He told +Davenport of the scheme, and he also was enthusiastic. + +"By Jove! that's excellent. It's about time the school realised that +caps and pots are not the alpha and omega of our existence." + +The air was full of the din of onset. + +Nearly the whole House attended the meeting, and the outhouses rolled up +in good numbers, more out of curiosity than anything else. They thought +the whole thing rather silly. There had been a debate more than two +years back on "whether games should be compulsory." Only six had voted +against compulsion. "The Bull" remembered this, and came to the debate, +strong in his faith in the past. He wanted to see this upstart Ferrers +squashed. + +Ferrers himself opened the discussion with typical exuberance. + +"How much longer," he finished, "are we going to waste our time, our +energy, our force on kicking a football? We have no strength for +anything else. And all the time, while Germany has been plotting against +us, piling up armaments, we have been cheering on Chelsea and West Ham +United. Look at the result. We were not prepared, we are only just +getting ready now. And why? Because we had wasted our time on trivial +things, instead of things that mattered; and unless we turn away from +all this truck, trash and cant about athleticism, England is not going +to stand for anything worth having." + +He sat down amid tempestuous applause. The audience were really excited. +They had gradually grown sick of games during the last two terms, and +now apparently they had the best authority for doing so. Everyone likes +being congratulated. + +The opposition suffered in having Burgess to support them. We have heard +of him before. Years had not altered him much. He was the same +conceited, self-righteous puppet as of old. People got tired of +listening to him. There was a sound of shuffling, a window began to bang +with unnecessary noise. He sat down to an apathetic recognition. + +Davenport then made a very biting speech against games. + +"The Bull" was surprised to see him speaking on Ferrer's side. He was +in the Second Fifteen, and a very useful outside. + +"Whatever we may have done before the war," he cried, "and we did many +foolish things, it is quite obvious that now this worship of sport must +cease. Let us hope it is not revived. We are sent here to be +educated--that is, to have our minds trained; instead of that, we have +our bodies developed, our minds starved. We play footer in the +afternoon, we have gym. at all hours of the day, and other experiments +in voluntary compulsion, such as puntabouts after breakfast. The result +is we work at our play, and play at our work...." He elaborated the +scheme in an amusing way. There was a lot of laughter. "The Bull" looked +fierce. Rudd, who had for a "rag" insisted on speaking for the +opposition, discoursed on the value of "_mens sana in corpore sano_." +Everyone shrieked with laughter. + +He finished up thus: + +"Well, look at me. I am the hardest-working fellow in the school." A +roar of laughter went up. Rudd had nearly been deprived of his position +of school prefect for doing so little work. "I am also a fine athlete. +To-day I clean bowled two people on the pick-up, and hit a splendid four +over short-slip's head. I am what I am because of our excellent system +of work and play. Look at me, I say, and vote for athleticism." + +Buffoonery is often more powerful than the truest oratory. + +The motion was put before the House. + +A lot of people spoke. All in favour of the motion. It was great fun +watching "the Bull's" face grow gradually darker. Morgan said that only +fools and Philistines cared for games. They were amusing to pass an +afternoon with, and because one had to have exercise, but that was all. + +Gordon waited till near the end, then he got up. + +"I must first congratulate everyone on the broadminded view they have +taken of this important question; and I think it is an infallible proof +that the days of athletic domination are ended. For, after all, is it +any wonder that clear-thinking men like A.C. Benson pull our system to +pieces, when we have to own that for the last twenty years at least the +only thing Public School boys have cared about is games? And with such +a belief they go out into life, to find the important posts seized by +men who have really worked. No one works at a Public School. People who +do are despised. If they happen to be good at games as well, they are +tolerated. It is a condemnation of the whole system. And, after all, +what are games? Merely a form of exercise; we have got to keep our +bodies healthy, because, as Mr Rudd so wisely put it, a healthy mind +means a healthy body. Games were invented because people wanted to enjoy +their exercise. We all enjoy games. I love cricket; but that does not +make me worship it. I like eating; but I don't make a god of a chocolate +éclair. We can like a thing without bowing down to it, and that's how we +have got to treat games. Some fool said 'the battle of Waterloo was won +on the playing fields of Eton'; and a fool he was, too. Games don't win +battles, but brains do, and brains aren't trained on the footer field. +It is time we realised that; and I think from the way the speaking has +gone to-night, the school is beginning to understand. Now is the chance +to show that you think so. There are no good athletes in the school +to-day, the Eleven's rotten and the Fifteen is worse. Men like Lovelace +major _were_ almost worth worshipping, because they were men; they made +athletics appear grand, because they were such glorious creatures +themselves; but there are none of that sort here now. We can see games +as they really are without any false mist of sentiment, and we can see +that for years we have been worshipping something utterly wrong." + +Gordon's speech really made an impression. After all, he was a blood, +one of the best all-round athletes in the school, and if he thought like +that, there must be something in what so many people were saying. + +The question was put to the vote, and was carried by an enormous +majority. + +"The Bull" looked for a moment at the crowd of faces that had spurned +the things he admired, looked as one who saw nothing, turned on his heel +and strode out of the room. + +"Well, we won! Glorious!" said Ferrers. + +"Yes," said Gordon, "'we have lit this day a candle that, by the grace +of God, shall never be put out'!" + +He went down to hall, flushed with triumph. After all, there were some +compensations for everything; but he could not remove the feeling that +out of all the change and turmoil of his Fernhurst career he had +retained nothing tangible. He had written his name upon water; he had as +yet found nothing that would accompany him to the end of his journey. He +knew that his friendship for Morcombe would lead to nothing: very few +school friendships last more than a year or so after one or other has +left. He thought of Byron's line: "And friendships were formed too +romantic to last." It was too true, he had yet to find his real ideal. +He was about to begin the serious battle of life. He was standing on the +threshold. The night was black before him; he had no beacon fire to lead +him. He dimly perceived that beauty was the goal to which he was +striving. But he had only a vague comprehension of its meaning. He had +no philosophy. Doubtless in the end the Roman Church, the mother of +wanderers, would take him to her breast. But that was a long way off +yet, and he wished to bring himself to the final surrender, strong and +clean-hearted, not a vessel broken on the back-wash of existence. And +yet he had no true guide for the years that stretched before him. This +last episode of the debate seemed to bring it home to him more clearly. +His life had so far been composed of isolated triumphs and isolated +defeats, which had not yet so combined one with another as to form a +bedrock of experience which would serve as a standard for future +judgments. He had made merry, careless of what the next day would bring. +He had fought with "the Bull"; and in the struggle he had achieved some +things, and failed to achieve more. He had at one time prayed for the +long contention to cease; at another he had laughed in the face of his +enemy, flushed with the joy of battle. Gazing back on his past, he +seemed to stand as a spectator, watching a person who was himself and +yet not himself, going through a life of many varied experiences, now +plunging in the mud, now soaring to the heights. But the incidents only +affected him in a dull, subconscious manner. He had learnt nothing from +them. His school days would soon be over, and yet he felt as though he +were beginning life all over again. He had found nothing that could +stand the wear of time and chance. + +But still there remained a few more weeks of Fernhurst; whatever +happened, he swore that he would finish as befitted a king. "Samson +would quit himself like Samson." There would be time enough for doubts +and introspection when it was all over, when for the last time the +familiar eight-forty swept him out of Fernhurst's life for ever. At +present it was his to leave behind him a name that would survive a +little while, "nor all glut the devouring grave." It should be +remembered of him that during his day of power he had never once given +way, had stood his ground, had never known the poignancy of the +"second-best." + +Until now Gordon had never really quarrelled with anyone in his own +house. All his encounters had been with outhouse men or "the Bull": he +might have helped to make the House feel independent of the school, but +he had always aimed at the unity of the House's aim. It was a pity that +his last contest should have been with the head of his own house. + +Rudd was a bad head; there could be no doubt about that. His dormitory +made him apple-pie beds, and soaked his candle in water, so that it +would not light. The day-room ragged him mercilessly. Gordon had never +minded. In comparison with Rudd's weakness his own strength shone the +more. It made him so essentially the big power in the House. But things +reached a limit shortly after half term, when Rudd tried to drag him in +to help him in his troubles, and shelter behind the rest of the +prefects. + +It all arose from a most "footling" source. Rudd was taking hall, and +the usual music hall performance was in full swing. Bray had asked to +borrow some ink, and having once gained a pretext for walking about, was +dancing up and down the floor singing _What would the Seaside be without +the Ladies?_ Everyone was, of course, talking. Now a certain Stockbrew, +imagining himself a poet, immortalised the occasion with the following +stirring lyric:-- + + "_Ruddy-doodle went to town_ + _In his little suit of brown,_ + _As he could not find his purse_ + _He cried aloud, 'Oh, where's my nurse?_'" + +Like the famous quatrain _The Purple Cow_, this poem immediately +achieved a success totally out of proportion to its merits. It was +passed slowly down the table. Finally it reached Bray. + +"Ah, Rudd," he said, "I believe this is meant for you." + +Rudd read it, and flushed a dusky red. + +"Who wrote this?" + +Proudly the author claimed his work. + +"Well--er--let me see," said Rudd: "it is er--gross impertinence. Come +and see me after breakfast to-morrow." + +The poet sat down, and his friends showered condolences on him; Bray +recommenced his wanderings. + +That night in second hall Rudd called a prefects' meeting to discuss the +affair. He pointed out that it was gross insolence to a prefect, and +that a prefects' beating was the recognised punishment for such an +offence. Gordon protested vehemently. + +"But, damn it all, Rudd, if you are such a weak-kneed ass as to be +ragged by a fool like Stockbrew, you jolly well oughtn't to be head of +the House. And, by the way, we haven't heard this masterpiece of satire +read out yet." + +"I don't think there's any need," said Rudd. + +"Well, I think there is," said Gordon. "I am not going to see a kid +beaten for an unknown piece of cheek. Read the thing out!" + +With many blushes Rudd read it out. + +"Ah, jolly suitable, too," said Foster. "What you want is a nurse. Good +lord, man, can't you look after yourself in hall. Jolly ignominious, +isn't it, having to call up a lot of prefects to back you up? Fine +example to the rest of the House, isn't it?" + +"Well," stammered Rudd, "I don't pretend to be a strong prefect." + +"You certainly aren't," said Foster. + +"That's beside the point," said Rudd. "I have been cheeked by Stockbrew, +and I am a prefect. The punishment for that is a prefects' beating. +There'll be a pre.'s meeting here to-morrow at eight, and if you have +anything to grouse about, go to the Chief." + +He flounced out of the room like a heroine of melodrama. + +"I don't think we'll go to Chief," said Gordon, "he would be utterly +fed up. But I am jolly well not going to be made an ass of by Rudd. +Think what fools we shall look trotting about on Rudd's apron strings +like policemen after a cook." + +"Well, what can we do?" said Davenport. + +"Do? Why, make Rudd look a bigger ass than we. We have got to give this +lad a pre.'s beating. There's no way out of it. We have got to. But if +we let the House know about this, a crowd will collect; Rudd will go +first and make two fairly effective shots. We shall then proceed in +rotation. We will just tap him; the crowd will roar with laughter; it +will be damned amusing, and Rudd will look a most sanguinary ass." + +"I see," said Foster. "Hat's off to the man with the brain." + +"But is it quite the game?" suggested Davenport, a stickler for +etiquette. + +"Is it the game for Rudd to drag us in to back him up? In this world, +unfortunately, two blacks invariably make a white." + +"I suppose it's all right," said Davenport. + +No one else made any objection. Foster and Gordon usually got their own +way. The prefects dispersed. Gordon went to tell Morgan the glad +tidings. The news was all round the House in a few minutes. Rudd was +generally regarded as a priceless fool; it was sure to be good sport. + +Then next morning Stockbrew presented himself at Rudd's study. He was +terribly overcome at the sight of so formidable a gathering. He wished +he had padded. No one had told him of what was to happen. It would have +spoilt the situation. + +The prefects sat in chairs round the room; Rudd, terribly nervous, was +perched on the table. He delivered as short a lecture as possible on the +sacredness of the prefectorial dignity and the insignificance of the +day-room frequenter. + +In a procession they moved to the V. A green. Stockbrew led, Rudd +followed, cane in hand. It was all very impressive. Round the V. A green +runs a stone path; a good many people were clustered there; there were +faces in the V. B class-room just opposite; in the library on the right; +even in the Sixth Form class-room on the left. + +"Quite an audience for this degrading business," sighed Foster. + +"'Butchered to make a Roman holiday,'" said Davenport, who loved a stale +quotation. Stockbrew bent over the chain that ran round two sides of the +green. Rudd delivered two fairly accurate shots. Stockbrew stirred +uncomfortably. He had dim recollections of Claremont reading a poem by +Mrs Browning on "the great God Pan" and how cruel it was to "make a poet +out of a man!" He saw her meaning now. Then the farce began. + +Gordon went up, carefully arranged the victim's coat, stepped back as if +preparing a brutal assault, and then flicked him twice. A roar of +laughter broke from all sides. Rudd shifted uneasily on his feet. + +Foster went up and did the same, then Davenport, then the rest of the +prefects. The very walls seemed shrieking with laughter. + +Flushing dark red, Rudd strode across to his study. Such dignity as he +had ever had, had been taken from him. Everyone had seen his ignominy. + +The next time he took hall a pandemonium broke out such as never had +been heard before. A game of cricket was played with a tennis ball and a +Liddell and Scott; Gordon crossing the courts heard it, and he decided +to clinch his victory. He went down to the day-room and walked straight +in. There was instant silence. Gordon took no notice of Rudd whatever. + +"Look here, you men, you are making a filthy row down here. I heard it +right across the courts. The Chief might hear it easily. You have got to +shut up. If I hear any more noise I shall give every man two hundred +lines; so shut up." + +There was comparative peace after this. Rudd had ceased to count in +House politics. To all intents and purposes Gordon was head of the +House, and the House regarded him as such. Rudd was generally known as +the "nominal head." Gordon had got his power, and for the next six weeks +he decided to enjoy it to the full. On the cricket field, although not +quite keeping to the promise or the luck of May, he did well enough to +make the batting cup quite certain. There was now no fear of any defeat +clouding his last days. He had ceased to worry himself with analysing +his emotions. He let himself enjoy the hour of happiness while he still +had it, and did not trouble to question himself how long it would last. +He had passed through the time of blind depression during the Easter +term when he had seen hope after hope go down: he had come through +somehow. It did not matter with what inward searchings of heart. +Outwardly he had been a success. Now his outward triumph was even more +pronounced. As a few weeks before he had been too prone to look at the +inward to the total exclusion of the outward aspect of things, now he +began to consider only the things that seem. It was the swing of the +pendulum. It remained for him to find the _media via_. + + * * * * * + +The last days of June and the early weeks of July passed calmly. In the +mornings he lounged in his study, reading novels, or talking to Morgan. +The afternoons went by like a cavalcade, with the white figures on the +cricket ground, the drowsy atmosphere of the pavilion, the shadows +lengthening across the ground. Then the evenings came, with Morcombe +sitting in his study getting helped in his work, or talking about books +and people and ideas. The House matches began. A-K senior had an average +side, but no one expected them to do very much, and it was a surprise +when, by beating Christy's and Claremont's, they qualified to meet an +exceptionally strong Buller's side in the final. Foster and Gordon +looked forward to their last match at Fernhurst with the cheerful +knowledge that they had no chance of winning, and that therefore they +had nothing to fear of disappointment. It would be a jolly friendly game +to finish up with. The days raced past so quickly that it came as a +shock to Gordon to discover that his last week, with its examinations +and threatening form lists, had really come. + +"I shall be sorry to leave, you know," he said to Foster. "I am not at +all looking forward to the army." + +"Last Christmas I would have given anything to get out of this place," +Foster answered. "But now, my Lord; I wish I was coming back. We've had +a good time this term." + +The first three days of that last week it rained incessantly. The +Senior final was postponed till the Thursday. Examinations took their +desultory course. Gordon had often in the past slacked in exams, but +never had he treated them in quite the same indifferent way as he did +this term. He had no intention of spoiling his last days by working. +Every morning the Sixth went in for a three hours' paper, at +nine-thirty. Before eleven Gordon had always shown up his papers, and +strolled out of the room to read _Paradise Lost_ in his study. In the +afternoon he usually managed to toss off the two hours' exam. in three +quarters of an hour. + +He was "finishing in style." On Thursday the rain stopped at last, and +the Senior final began. + +"Foster," said Gordon, as the two walked down to the field, "I believe +ours is one of the very worst sides that ever got into the final. There +are two Firsts, you and I. Collins was tried for the Colts two years +ago. There are eight others." + +"Oh, you forget Bray, a fine, free bat with an unorthodox style. But ... +I believe he made fourteen on a House game the other day." + +"Yes, that is a recommendation, of course, but somehow I don't think we +shall win." + +"Win!" echoed Foster. "We shall be lucky if we avoid an innings defeat." + +And this supposition proved still more likely when half-an-hour later +the House, having won the toss, had lost three wickets for as many runs. +Jack Whitaker, now captain of Buller's, had gone on to bowl first from +the end nearest the National Schools. In his first over he clean bowled +Gordon, and in the next he got Foster leg before, and Bradford caught in +the slips. + +"I foresee," said Collins, "that we shall spend most of this game +fielding. A poor way of occupying our last few days." + +"That's where I score," said Gordon; "the wicket-keeper has no running +to do, and, besides, I rather enjoy a game in which there is nothing to +lose, no anxiety or anything. It is a peaceful end to a turgid +career.... Oh, well hit!" + +Bray had just lifted a length ball off the middle stump over short-leg's +head. + +"That's the sort of cricket I like," said Gordon; "a splendid contempt +for all laws and regulations. Heavens! there he goes again!" + +A lucky snick flew over the slips to the boundary. + +"This is something like," said Foster, and prepared to enjoy himself. + +And certainly Bray's cricket was entertaining. He treated every ball the +same; he stepped straight down the pitch with his left foot, raised his +bat in the direction of point and then, as the ball was bowled, he +pivoted himself violently on his left foot and, going through a complete +half-circle, finished, facing the wicket-keeper, with both feet outside +the crease, but his bat well over the line. The chief attraction of this +gymnastic feat was the unexpectedness of it all. No one knew where the +ball would go if it was hit. Once when he timed his shot a little late +he caught the ball just as it was passing him and drove it flying past +the wicket-keeper's head to where long-stop would have been. The +fielding side was always glad to see Bray's back, and it usually did not +have to wait long. But to-day he bore a charmed life. He was missed at +point once, twice he gave a chance of being stumped, the ball shaved his +wickets times innumerable. But nearly every other ball he managed to hit +somewhere. In the pavilion the School House rocked with laughter. + +At the other end Davenham poked about scoring singles here and there. +The score crept up. Amid cheers in which laughter was blended, the fifty +went up. Then Bray, in a particularly gallant effort to steer a ball +well outside the off stump round to short-leg, hit, all three wickets +flying out of the ground. It was a suitable end to an unusual innings. + +He received a royal welcome in the pavilion. + +"Bray, my son," said Gordon, "you are a sportsman. Come to the tuck-shop +and have a drink. Nellie, mix this gentleman an ice and a lemonade, and +put it down to my account. Thank you. Ah, there's Collins. Good luck, +Collins; keep your head." + +Two minutes later Collins returned to the pavilion with a downcast face. + +"The damned thing broke," he said, as if he considered breaks illegal in +House matches. + +The rest of the side played in the usual light-hearted School House +spirit. There were some fine hits made, and some scandalous ones, too. +It was like a cinematograph show. Everyone slammed about; the Buller's +men missed catches galore. Davenport was missed four times in making +fourteen. Somehow the score reached respectable heights. Byes helped +considerably. The final score was one hundred and twenty. + +"And now," said Collins, "we have got to field for two hours to-day. +To-morrow is not a half, so we shall have to field all the time; we +sha'n't get a knock till after roll on Saturday. Five hours' fielding. +Damn!" + +"And it will do you a lot of good, too," said Foster. "Are you all +ready, House? Come on then." + +A-K Senior filed out into the field. A loud cheer rose from the crowd. +The House was amazingly partisan. Whether a House side is losing by an +innings or winning by two hundred runs, it is always sure of the same +reception when it goes on to the field from its own men. The light had +grown rather bad and Foster began bowling with the trees at his back, so +as to hide his delivery. At the other end Bradford was to bowl. + +The start was sensational. + +Buller's sent in Crampin and Mitchell first, two hefty footballers, with +strong wrists and no science, who had run up some big scores in the +preliminary rounds. + +Foster ran up to bowl. Crampin had a terrific swipe. The ball turned +from the bat. The bat only just touched it. + +"How's that?" roared Gordon. + +The finger went up. A ripple of clapping ran along the side of the +ground. + +"You stick to that," said Collins, "and we shall get them out by +to-morrow night." + +"Dry up," said Gordon ironically. "Can't you see we are going to win?... +Man in!" + +Jack Whitaker came in. He was far and away the most stylish bat in the +school, and had scored a lot of runs during the season. He faced the +bowling confidently; he had played Foster a hundred times at the nets, +and knew his tricks well. He played through the over with ease. The last +ball he placed in front of short-leg for a single. + +Bradford went on to bowl. He was a House match class of bowler. No idea +of length, or direction, only an indefatigable energy and considerable +pace. His first ball was a long hop wide on the off. Whitaker banged it +past point for four. + +The next ball was a full pitch to leg. Collins had to run about a +hundred yards to rescue it from the road. Bradford looked fierce. He +took a longer run than usual, rushed up to the wicket, and plunged the +ball in with all his force. A howl of untuneful applause rose from under +the trees. The ball not only happened to be straight, but was also a +yorker. Whitaker's middle stump fell flat. + +There are times when a panic seizes the very best side, and for the next +hour and a half the House had the pleasant experience of watching an +unusually strong Buller side rabbit out before a very moderate attack. +Buller's side contained four First and two Second Eleven colours, to say +nothing of three Colts caps. And yet by six o'clock the whole team was +dismissed for eighty-three. There was nothing to account for the rot. +Foster and Bradford bowled unchanged. Bradford took six of the wickets, +four clean bowled. It was incomprehensible. + +"I can't understand it," said Gordon at tea. "Bradford was bowling the +most utter drivel half the time, I would have given anything to have +been batting. And you were not bowling at your best, you know, Foster." + +"I am well aware of that; but, heavens! it was sheer joy. Look at old +Collins, down there, beaming at the thought of not having to field +to-morrow." + +"It's all right," mumbled Collins from a huge cup of tea. + +"By Jove! wouldn't it be gorgeous if we could win this match, and finish +up by beating the Buller crowd at their own game?" said Gordon. "Damn it +all, I don't see why we shouldn't. What we have done once we can do +again. They are a better side, I know, but we'll have a damned good shot +at winning." + +Of course Buller's laughed at the whole thing. + +"It's really rather funny," they said. "But, of course, we are in +absolutely no danger of losing. We couldn't wreck like that again; and, +what's more, we shouldn't let an ass like Bray make so many runs again. +We are quite safe!" + +The School House kept quiet. They were not going to shout their hopes +all over the school. It would look so bad if they got thoroughly beaten +in the end. But in the studies and dormitories that night there was only +one thought in all those minds--that victory was possible. + +The next day it rained the whole time. The courts were flooded with +water, the branches dripped with a tired languor. Gordon polished off +two exams with masterly speed, and returned to his study. + +Saturday morning broke grey and wet. It rained spasmodically till +mid-day, and then cleared up. With a sigh of relief Gordon walked up the +big schoolroom to show up the last piece of work that he would do at +Fernhurst. For a last composition it was hardly creditable. A long paper +on the _OEdipus Tyrannus_ was finished in under an hour. But Gordon +had ceased to care for academic distinctions. As he closed the door of +the big school, and went out into the cloisters, he realised that a +certain stage of his journey was over and done with for ever. + +By lunch-time all signs of rain had cleared off, and the sun shone down +on an absolutely sodden ground. Runs would be very hard to get. A lead +of thirty-seven meant a lot on such a wicket. An atmosphere of nervous +expectation overhung the House. Everyone was glad when the meal was +over. + +The match began directly after lunch. There would be very likely some +difficulty in finishing the game that day. Collins and Foster went in +first. Gordon had asked to be kept back till later. The start was dull. +Foster was taking no risks, and Collins seemed unable to time the ball +at all, which was luckily always off the wicket. Ten went up after +quarter of an hour's play. + +And then Foster, reaching out to play forward, slipped on the wet grass +and was stumped. Three balls later Bradford was caught and bowled. It +was Gordon's turn to go in. Nearly everything depended on him. If he +failed, the whole side would probably collapse. The tail had done +miracles in the first innings; but it could not be expected to do the +same again. + +Gordon took guard nervously. He resolved to play himself in carefully, +but he never could resist the temptation to have a "go." The first ball +was well up, just outside the off stump. Gordon stepped across and let +fly. He had forgotten how slow the pitch was. The ball hung; he was much +too soon; the ball sailed straight up into the air! Point and +cover-point both ran for it. "Crampin!" yelled out Whitaker. Neither +heard; they crashed into one another; the ball fell with a dull thud. +The House gave a gasp of relief. + +It was a costly mistake. For when once he got his eye in, Gordon was +very hard to get out. And, moreover, he was one of the few people who +could get runs quickly on a really wet wicket, for the simple reason +that nearly all his shots went into the air; and so he did not find the +sodden ground making off drives which should have resulted in fours only +realise singles. + +That afternoon Gordon found the bowling perfectly simple. At the other +end wickets fell slowly, but he himself was scoring fast. A hard shot +over cover-point sent up his individual fifty, and two overs later he +drove a length ball on the off stump past mid on to the boundary, and +the hundred went up amid cheers. + +"It is a mystery to me," said Foster, "how that man Caruthers ever gets +a run at all; he has no defence, and hits straight across everything." + +"Don't let's worry about that," said Collins; "sufficient be it that he +is hitting these Buller's swine all over the place. Oh, good shot!" + +A half-volley had landed first bounce among the masters sitting under +the wall. The umpire signalled six. + +One hundred and fifty went up. + +And then Gordon mistimed a slow yorker, and was clean bowled for +eighty-five. + +He was received with a storm of clapping; the House lined up cheering as +he ran in between the ropes. + +"Gratters! Well done!" shouted Foster. "That's a damned fine knock to +finish your Fernhurst cricket days with! Well done!" + +Everyone came up and congratulated him. It was a proud moment, in some +ways the proudest of his whole career. + +A few minutes later another burst of clapping signalled the end of the +innings. The side had made one hundred and eighty-six. Buller's were +left with two hundred and twenty-three to win. Anything might happen. +Just before five Foster led the House on to the field. + +The next hour and a half was fraught with delirious happiness and +excitement. Foster bowled magnificently, Bradford managed to keep a +length; the whole side fielded splendidly. Wicket after wicket fell. +Victory became a certainty. Gloom descended over the Buller's side. +Round the pavilion infants with magenta hat ribbons yelled themselves +hoarse. It was one of those occasions in which eternity seems compressed +into an hour. Half-past six came. No one went up to tea, everyone was +waiting for the end. At last it came. Whitaker, who alone had been able +to withstand the School House attack, over-reached himself, Gordon +gathered the ball quickly, the bails flew off. The umpire's hand rose. A +wild shriek rose from the crowd. Gordon's last game at Fernhurst was +over; his last triumph had come; at last "Samson had quit himself like +Samson." Through the lines of shrieking juniors the team passed into the +pavilion. Gordon began to collect his things, to pack up his bag. He +gave it to a fag to carry up. + +Collins and Foster and Gordon walked up from the field arm in arm. + +"Well, if we stopped on here for a hundred years," said Foster, "we +shouldn't find a better hour to leave." + +"Yes, the end has made up for any disappointments on the way. It will be +a long time before we have as wonderful a time again," Gordon said, as +he passed in the sunset, for the last time, through the gate of the +cricket-field which had been, for him, the place of so many happy +hours. + + + + +CHAPTER VI: THE TAPESTRY COMPLETED + + +To Gordon this match seemed the ideal rounding off of his career. There +had been no anti-climax, with him the best had come at the end. He would +not have to look back and compare his last term unfavourably with the +glories of yester year. He had done what he set out to do, he would step +rose-garlanded out of the lighted room, in the flush of his success. It +was exactly as he had wished. Perfectly satisfied, he lay back in his +chair, with his feet on the table, too tired to do anything, merely +thinking. + +There was a knock at the door. + +"Come in." + +Rudd came in nervously with a House list in his hand. + +"The Chief wants a list of the trains people are going home by." + +"Eight-forty to Waterloo." + +"Thanks." + +Rudd walked towards the door, but as he put his hand on the knob he +turned round. + +"Well," he began falteringly, "I suppose you are jolly proud of yourself +now, aren't you?" + +"What the hell do you mean?" + +"You know quite well. You have done damned well according to your own +point of view. You have aimed at getting the supreme power, and you have +got it all right." Rudd had lost his nervousness now, he was shifting +his feet a little, but the sentences flowed easily. "I am a weak head, I +know, and you have managed to smash me quite easily. It wasn't very +hard, although you pretend you are the devil of a fellow." + +"What on earth are you driving at?" + +"Oh, not much; only I want to show you how much you have done for the +House. You are big, and you're strong, and all that; you've broken up +any authority I ever had, and you've taken it yourself. And, of course, +as long as you are here, it's all very well. But what about when you +have left? You are too self-centred to see anybody else's point of view. +_Après moi le deluge_; that's your philosophy. As long as you yourself +prosper, you don't care a damn what happens to anyone else, and you have +prospered right enough. You'll have left a name behind you, all right." + +"I don't want to have to kick you out, Rudd," said Gordon. + +"I don't care what you say; I'm going to finish what I have got to say. +You'll probably not understand, you are too short-sighted. But what sort +of future have you left the House? Order was kept all right when you +were here; you are strong. But when you have left, who is going to take +your place? Foster could have, but he's leaving. Davenport's leaving +too, so's Collins. The new prefects will be weak. At the best they would +have had a hard time. But probably the prefectorial dignity would have +been sufficient, if you hadn't smashed it up. You say 'personality' must +rule, but there is not so much personality flying about. We weak men +have got to shelter ourselves behind the strength of a system, and you +have smashed that. No one is going to obey me next term. They know I am +incapable; but they wouldn't have found it out but for you. That's what +you've done this term. You yourself have succeeded, but your success has +meant the ruin of the House for at least a year, that's what you have +done. And I expect you are jolly proud of yourself, too. You only care +for yourself." + +Rudd finished exhausted, and stood there gasping. Gordon looked straight +at him for a second or so, then picked up a book and began to read; Rudd +shifted from foot to foot for a minute and then moved out quickly. + +What an ass the man was, thought Gordon. The beaten man always tries to +make the victor's defeat seem less. It is all he has to do. Damn it all, +a man has to look after himself in this world; everyone was struggling +to get to the top, and the weak had to be knocked out of the way. + +Then Foster came in aglow with excitement, and the two went up to the +tuck-shop and ate numerous ices, and made a great row, and knocked over +many chairs, and threw sugar about. Rudd was clean forgotten, as they +rolled back triumphantly, just as the roll bell was ringing. Work was +over. Gordon wandered round the studies, talking to everyone; in second +hall they had a celebration supper for the whole side. They had two +huge pies, a ham, countless éclairs; they sang songs, laughed and told +anecdotes. They finished with the school _Carmen_, and drank to the +House's future success. Laughing and singing, they at last made for the +dormitories. + +But when the lights went out, and silence descended on the dormitory, +Gordon began to think of his conversation with Rudd; and, as he thought, +there came over him again the fierce longing to get to the heart of +things and to see life as it was, shorn of its coverings. Looking at his +career from the spectator's point of view, even Christy would have to +own that it had been eminently successful. He had been captain of the +House; no one had blamed him that the House had failed to win their +matches; no one can make bricks without straw; what did matter was that +he had always stood up for the House's rights, he had never given way to +"the Bull," he had been strong. This last term he had been head of the +House in all but name; he had won the batting cup; and he had finished +by playing a big part in the biggest triumph that the House had achieved +for several years. In all outward aspects he had been a great success. + +But Gordon had had enough of outward aspects. He wanted to get to the +root of things, to get on terms of equality with life; he was tired of +seeing everything through flickering glass. What had he actually done? + +And when he began to sum up his achievements, he was forced to own that +most of them were athletic triumphs, and athletics meant little to him. +He had long ceased to worship them. Because a man could make a big score +in a House match, it did not mean that he was in any way fit for the +battle of life; and what else had he done? He had carried on guerrilla +warfare with "the Bull." It had never come to a real head; so little +does. Most things are left unaccomplished in the end; and what had he +gained by this contest, and what had been the use of it? "The Bull" was +one of the few really fine masters in the school. He was a man, and +towered above the puny pettiness of Rogers; he was the "noblest Roman of +them all," yet Gordon had spent a whole year fighting against a man whom +he at heart admired. It was, of course, the inevitable clash of two +egotisms; but that did not alter the facts. He had been wasting himself +fighting against a fine man, when there were so many rotten traditions +and useless customs that ought to be attacked; but he had let them +alone. The only abuse he had attacked was the worship of sport, and he +began to wonder whether it had been worth it. Might it not have been +better to have let the school go on believing in its gods a little +longer? He had broken down a false god, but had he given the School +anything to worship in its stead? Better a false god than no god at all. + +Rudd had been right. He had smashed through a garden of dandelions. He +had rooted up flowers and weeds indiscriminately. He had done nothing +wonderful; and he had left desolation behind him. Nothing would grow for +some time in the plot he had ruined. And yet he was "a great success," +the world said. + +"Only the superficial do not judge by appearances," Wilde had said, +mocking at society; and he had been right. Life was a sham, a mass of +muddled evolutions; the world was too slack to find out the truth, or +perhaps it was afraid to discover it. For the truth was not pleasant. +Gordon did not know what it was; all he saw was that life was built of +shams, that no one worshipped anything but the god of things that seem. +He lay supine, cursing at the darkness. + +The next morning he woke with the same feeling of depression; he looked +round his dormitory. There were seven of them, all perfectly happy and +contented. And why? Merely because they looked at the surface, because +they did not take the trouble to find out what was true and what was +false. They were happy in their ignorance, and he, too, could be happy +if he just took things as they were. His last few weeks had been so full +of joy, because he had not taken the trouble to think. Thought was the +cause of unhappiness. And yet he had to think. He hated half measures. +For a certain space he had to live on earth, and he wanted to discover +what life really was. What lay beyond the grave he did not know, +"sufficient for the day were the day's evil things." But he felt that he +must try and plumb the depth or shallowness of the day's interests. He +could not bear the idea of a contentment purchased by cowardice. + +Yet he had learn from Tester that the soul is man's most sacred +possession, and must not be shown to the crowd; that he must always mask +his true emotions, except in the company of those who could understand +them. + +So he went down to breakfast telling Collins the latest joke from _The +London Mail_. On his way back to the studies he ran into a fag. + +"Caruthers, Chief wants to see you in his study." + +Gordon found the Chief waiting for him. + +"You are not busy, I hope, are you, Caruthers?" + +"Oh no, sir." + +"Well, at any rate, I shall keep you only for a minute. I just wanted to +speak to you for a second before you left. Everything is such a rush on +the last day. I suppose you have found that authority brings a good many +difficulties with it, and I have heard that you have had a row or two. +But I think you have done very well on the whole. I did not say very +much about it at the time, but about two years ago I had very grave +doubts about how you were going to turn out; I must say that I was very +nervous about making you a prefect. But, still, I think your last year +has really developed your character, and you certainly have had the +wisdom and luck, shall we say, like the host at the wedding, to keep +your best till last." + +The Chief smiled the smile that was peculiarly his own, and peculiarly +winning. "I must not keep you any longer. But I did want to take this +opportunity of telling you that I have been pleased with you this term, +though perhaps my praise sounds weak beside the applause you got after +your innings. At any rate, I wish you the very best of luck." + +With mixed feelings Gordon left the study. He valued the Chief's opinion +amazingly, but he could not help knowing that he did not deserve it. He +felt as though he had deceived the Chief. If only the Chief knew how he +had plunged along in his own way, an egotist, an iconoclast! And then +suddenly there came over him the shock of discovery, that everything in +life was so distorted and hidden by superficial coverings, that even the +wisest failed to discern between the true and the false. + +He was able to see himself as he was, to realise the littleness of his +own performances. Yet the Chief who, if anyone "saw life steadily, and +saw it whole," who was always more ready to judge an action by the +intention than by the result--the Chief himself had not really seen how +far his achievements were below his possibilities. And if the Chief was +at times deceived by the superficial, how was he, a self-willed, +blundering boy, ever likely to be able to come to a true understanding? + +He shrugged. There still remained a few hours in which to enjoy the +fruits of a success which, if it meant little to him, conveyed a good +deal to the world outside. And power is very sweet. + +He tried to fling himself into the light-hearted atmosphere of rejoicing +in which the whole House was revelling, but he found it impossible. His +laughter was forced; yet his friends noticed no change in him; he was to +them just as he had always been. + +Even Morcombe, who was to him more than other friends, had failed to +understand. + +"It must be rather decent to be leaving in the way you are," he said, as +they were sitting in the games study before evening chapel. "I doubt if +you stopped on if you would ever quite equal the appropriateness of that +last innings." + +"Yes," said Gordon, with a conscious irony, "it's certainly dramatic." + +What use was it to try and show him what he was thinking? He had learnt +that it is better to leave illusions untouched. + +Often in the past he had tried to imagine what a last chapel service +must be like. The subject has been done to death by the novelist. In +every school story he had read, the hero had always felt the same +emotions: contentment with work well done, sorrow at leaving a +well-loved place. He had wondered whether he would want to cry; and if +so, whether he would be able to stop it. He had looked inquiringly in +the faces of those who were leaving and had never read anything very +new. Some were enigmas; some looked glad in a way that they were going +to begin a life so full of possibilities. Some vaguely realised that +they had reached the height of their success at nineteen. + +But now that his time had come, his thoughts were very different from +what he had imagined. He felt the sorrow that is inevitable to anyone +who is putting a stage of his life clean out of sight behind him; but +for all that he had come to the conclusion that he was not really sad at +leaving. Fernhurst was for him too full of ghosts; so many dreams were +buried there. His feelings were mixed. He felt himself that he had +failed, but he knew that he was hailed a success. He half wished that in +the light of experience he could go through his four years again; but if +he did, he saw that in outward show, at any rate, he could never eclipse +the glory that was his for the moment. He remembered that sermon over +three years back in which the Chief had asked each boy to imagine +himself passing his last hours at school. "_How will it feel,_" the +Chief had said, "_if you have to look back and think only of shattered +hopes and bright unfulfilled promises?... To the pathos of human sorrow +there is no need to add the pathos of failure._" What was he to +think?--he whose career had so curiously mingled failure and success. + +The service slowly drew to its end. The final hymn was shouted by small +boys, happy at the thought of seven weeks' holiday. The organ boomed out +_God Save the King_; there was a moment's silence. Then the school +poured out into the cloisters. Gordon hardly realised his last service +was over. He had been so long a spectator of these partings that he +could not grasp the fact that he was himself a participator in them. + +He felt very tired, and was glad when bed-time came. He experienced the +same sensations that he had known as a new boy--a physical and mental +weariness that longed for the ending of the day. + +For a few hours silence hung round the ghostly Abbey; then, tremendous +in the east, Gordon's last whole day at Fernhurst dawned. + +As far as the Sixth were concerned, work was over. The rest of the +school had to go in for two hours for the rep. exam. The drowsy +atmosphere of a hot summer morning overhung everything. The studies were +very quiet. Gordon took a deck-chair on to the Sixth Form green and +settled down to read _Endymion_. + +But he found it impossible to concentrate his thoughts on anything but +the riotous wave of introspection that was flooding his brain. He soon +gave up the attempt; and putting down the book, he lay back, his hands +behind his head, gazing at the great grey Abbey opposite him, while +through his brain ran Gilbert Cannan's words: "Life is round the +corner." He had failed. He knew he had failed. But where and why? Then, +as he began to question himself, suddenly he saw it all clearly. He had +failed because he had set out to gain only the things that the world +valued. He had sought power, and he had gained it; he had asked for +praise, and he had won it; he had fought, and he had conquered. But at +the moment of his triumph he had realised the vanity of all such +success; when he had come to probe it to the root, he had found it +shallow. For all the things that the world valued were shallow and +without depth, because the world never looked below the surface. He had +found no continuing city; his house was built upon sand. + +The truth flashed in on him; he knew now that as long as he was content +to take the world's view of anything, he was bound to meet with +disillusionment. He would have to sift everything in the sieve of his +own experience. The judgment of others would be of no avail. He would be +an iconoclast. The fact that the world said a thing was beautiful or +ugly, and had to be treated as such, must mean nothing to him. He would +search for himself, he would plumb the depths, if needs be, in search of +the true ideal which was lurking somewhere in the dark. Tester had been +right. It was useless to look back to the past for guidance. He had a +few hours back asked for some fixed standard by which to judge the false +from the true. There were no standards except a man's own experience. +Here at Fernhurst he had failed to find anything, because he had sought +for the wrong things; he had at once accepted the crowd's statement for +the truth. Now it would be different. In his haste he had said that +Fernhurst had taught him nothing. He had been wrong. It had taught him +what many took years to learn, and sometimes never learnt at all. It had +taught him to rely upon himself. In the future he would take his courage +in his hands, and work out his own salvation on the hard hill-road of +experience. + +The school was just pouring out from the rep. exam. He heard Foster +shouting across the courts. + +"Caruthers, you slacker, come up to the tuck-shop." + +"Right-o!" he yelled back; and racing across the green jumped the +railings, and went laughing up to the tuck-shop. + +"I say, Foster, let's have a big tea this afternoon. We had a supper for +the A-K side on Saturday. Let's have the rest up to-day." + +Gordon flushed with excitement at what lay before him. He wanted +everyone else to laugh with him too. An enormous tea was ordered. Men +from the outhouses came down, the tables were drawn up on the V. A +green, and the afternoon went by in a whirl of happiness. They rolled +out arm in arm for the prize-giving. For the last time Gordon saw the +whole staff sitting on "their dais serene." He looked at the row of +faces. There was Rogers puffed out with pride; Christy, pharisee and +humbug, superbly satisfied with himself. Finnemore sat in the +background, a pale grey shadow, that had been too weak to get to grips +with life at all. Trundle nursed his chin, twittering in a haze of +indecision. Ferrers was fidgeting about, impatient of delay. He, at any +rate, was not being misled by outside things; if he was misled by +anything, it was by the impulse of his own feverish temperament. He was +the splendid rebel leader of forlorn hopes, the survival of those + + "_Lonely antagonists of destiny_ + _That went down scornful before many spears._" + +There, again, was Macdonald, with the same benign smile that time could +not change. As he looked at him, Gordon thought that he at least could +not have been deceived, but had too kind, too wide a heart to +disillusion the young. And, above all, sat Buller, a second Garibaldi, +with a heart of gold, an indomitable energy, a splendid sincerity, the +most loyal of Fernhurst's sons. And as Gordon looked his last at his old +foe, he felt that "the Bull" was so essentially big, so strong, so noble +of heart, that it hardly mattered what he worshipped. There hung round +him no false trapping of the trickster; sincerity was the keynote of his +life. Gordon would search in vain, perhaps, for a brighter lodestar. As +two vessels that have journeyed a little way together down a river, on +taking their different courses at the ocean mouth, signal one another +"good luck," so Gordon from the depth of his heart wished "the Bull" +farewell and Godspeed. + +At last the form lists were read out. A titter rewarded Gordon's +position of _facile ultimus_. The cups were distributed. Gordon went up +for the batting cups, his own individual one, and the challenge one that +went to the House. Foster went up for the Senior cricket; it was a +veritable School House triumph. The Chief made his usual good-bye +speech, kindly, hopeful, encouraging. The head of the school shouted +"Three cheers for the masters!"--the gates swept open, the cloisters +were filled with hurrying feet. + +The last hours passed all too swiftly. In a far corner of the gallery +Gordon sat with Morgan, listening to his last school concert. Opposite +the choir in their white shirts, and brushed-back hair, sang the school +songs inseparable from the end of the school year. There was the summer +song, the "Godspeed to those that go," the poignant _Valete_: + + "_We shall watch you here in our peaceful cloister_, + _Faring onward, some to renown, to fortune_, + _Some to failure--none if your hearts are loyal--_ + _None to dishonour._" + +To Gordon every word brought back with it a flood of memories. He could +see himself, the small boy, reading those verses for the first time +before he went to Fernhurst, ignorant of what lay before him. How soon +he had changed his fresh innocency! How soon his bright gold had grown +dim! Then he saw himself this time last year, listening to those words +with an unbounded confidence, certain that he at least would never +achieve failure. Visions in the twilight! And what was the dawn to +bring? + +The Latin _Carmen_ began. The school stood on their seats and howled it +out. Then came _Auld Lang Syne_. They clasped hands, swaying in chorus. +The echoes of _God Save the King_ shook the timbered ceiling, someone +was shouting "Three cheers for the visitors!"; the school surged towards +the door; Gordon found his feet on the small stone stairway. He looked +back once at the warm lights; the honour-boards that would never bear +his name; the choir still in their places; the visitors putting on their +coats and wraps. Then the stream moved on; the picture faded out; and +from the courts came the noise of motors crunching on the gravel. + +As Gordon walked into the cool air he ran into Ferrers. + +"Good-bye, sir." + +"You are off, are you? Well, good luck. Write to me in the hols; I'll +look you up if I'm in town. If not, cheer-o!" + +He was gone in a second. + + "_'So some time token the last of all our evenings_ + _Crowneth memorially the last of all our days ...'_" + +Gordon murmured to himself as he walked slowly down to the dining +hall.... + +The next morning there was the inevitable bustle, the tipping of the +servants, the good-byes, the promises to write at least twice during the +holidays, the promises which were never kept. + +"Here, Bamford, I say," shouted Gordon, "take my bag down to the +station." + +Bamford looked almost surly at being told to do anything on that last +day. "Authority forgets a dying king," thought Gordon. His power could +not have been so great if it began to wane almost before he had gone. + +The eight-forty came into the station, snorting and puffing. + +Gordon secured a corner seat, and leant out of the window, shaking hands +with everyone he could see. + +"You'll be down next term, won't you?" yelled Morgan, bursting as ever +with good will. + +"I expect so," said Gordon. + +But in his heart of hearts he knew that he would never come back. He +would be afraid lest he should find the glamour with which he had +surrounded the grey studies and green walks of Fernhurst merely a mist +of sentiment that would fade away. So many things that he had believed +in he had found untrue. But he wanted to keep fresh in his mind the +memory of Fernhurst as he had last seen it, beautiful and golden in the +morning sun. + +The train slowly steamed out. Hands were waved, handkerchiefs fluttered. +Slowly the Abbey turned from ochre-brown to blue, till it was hidden out +of sight. + +Gordon sank back into his seat. He was on the threshold of life; and he +stepped out into the sunlight with a smile, which, though it might be a +little cynical, as if he had been disillusioned, held none the less the +quiet confidence of a wayfarer who knew what lay before him, and felt +himself well equipped and fortified "for the long littleness of life." + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Loom of Youth, by Alec Waugh + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LOOM OF YOUTH *** + +***** This file should be named 18863-8.txt or 18863-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/1/8/8/6/18863/ + +Produced by Kathryn Lybarger, Josephine Paolucci and the +Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Loom of Youth + +Author: Alec Waugh + +Release Date: July 18, 2006 [EBook #18863] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LOOM OF YOUTH *** + + + + +Produced by Kathryn Lybarger, Josephine Paolucci and the +Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[Pg 1]</a></span></p> + + + + + +<h1>THE LOOM OF YOUTH</h1> + + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"Well, I mean there's Davenham now and—"</p> + +<p>"Davenham!" came the scornful retort. "What does it matter what +happens to Davenham? He's absolutely useless to the House, +rotten at games and spends his whole time reading about +fossils. Who cares a curse about Davenham!"</p> + +<p>"Oh I suppose you're right, but—"</p> + +<p>"My dear ass, of course I am right. Meredith is a simply +glorious fellow. Do you remember the way he brought down +Freeman in the Two Cock? Why, the House simply couldn't get on +without him."</p> + +<p>To Gordon all this conveyed very little. He had no idea who +Meredith or Davenham were. The only thing he realised was that +for those who wore a blue and gold ribbon laws ceased to exist. +It was apparently rather advantageous to get into the Fifteen. +He had not looked on athletics in that light before. Obviously +his preparatory school had failed singularly to keep level with +the times. He had always been told by the masters there that +games were only important for training the body. But at +Fernhurst they seemed the one thing that mattered. To the +athlete all things are forgiven. There was clearly a lot to +learn.</p></div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[Pg 2]</a></span></p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"To him who desireth much, much is given; and to him who +desireth little, little is given; but to neither according to +the letter of his desire."</p></div> + +<p> GILBERT CANNAN</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[Pg 3]</a></span></p> +<h2><i>The Loom of Youth</i></h2> + + +<h3>ALEC WAUGH</h3> + +<h4>Methuen</h4> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[Pg 4]</a></span></p> +<p class="center"> +First published in Great Britain 1917<br /> +Reprinted July 1917, August 1917, September 1917 (twice)<br /> +November 1917, January 1918, March 1918, October 1918,<br /> +1919, 1921, 1930, 1933, 1945<br /> +Cassell's Pocket Library, 1928<br /> +Penguin Abridged Edition, 1942<br /> +New edition reset and revised 1955<br /> +Reprinted 1972<br /> +<br /> +This edition published 1984<br /></p> +<h3>by Methuen London Ltd</h3> +<h4>11 New Fetter Lane, London EC4P 4EE</h4> + +<p>Copyright © Alec Waugh 1917<br /> +ISBN 0 413 54970 4 (hardback)<br /> +ISBN 0 413 54980 1 (paperback)<br /> +<br /> +Printed and bound in Great Britain<br /> +by Richard Clay (The Chaucer Press) Ltd<br /> +Bungay, Suffolk<br /> +</p> + +<p>This book is available in both a hardcover and paperback edition. The +paperback is solid subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of +trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out, or otherwise circulated +without the Publisher's prior consent in any form of binding or cover +other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition +including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Transcriber's Note: Minor typos have been corrected in text.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[Pg 5]</a></span></p> +<h2><i>Dedicatory Letter to Arthur Waugh</i></h2> + + +<p>My Dear Father,</p> + +<p>This book, which I am bringing you, is a very small return for all you +have given me. In every mood, in every phase of my shifting pilgrimage, +I have found you ever the same—loving, sympathetic, wise. You have been +with me in my success, and in my happiness, in my failures and in my +disappointments, in the hours when I have followed wandering fires. +There has never yet come to me a moment when I did not know that I had +but to stretch out my hand to find you at my side. In return for so +much, this first book of mine is a very small offering.</p> + +<p>But yet I bring it to you, simply because it is my first. For whatever +altars I may have raised by the wayside, whatever ephemeral loyalties +may have swayed me, my one real lodestar has always been your love, and +sympathy, and guidance. And as in life it has always been to you first +that I have brought my troubles, my aims, my hopes, so in the world of +ideas it is to you that I would bring this, the first-born of my dreams.</p> + +<p>Accept it. For it carries with it the very real and very deep love of a +most grateful son.</p> + +<p> A.W.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</a></span></p> +<h2>CONTENTS</h2> + + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tr><td align='left'>Preface</td><td align='right'><i>page</i> <a href="#Page_9">9</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#BOOK_I_WARP_AND_WOOF">BOOK I:</a> WARP AND WOOF</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>I Groping</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_15">15</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>II Finding his Feet</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_21">21</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>III The New Philosophy</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_31">31</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>IV New Faces</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_44">44</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>V Emerging</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_52">52</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>VI Clarke</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_62">62</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>VII When One is in Rome</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_69">69</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#BOOK_II_THE_TANGLED_SKEIN">BOOK II:</a> THE TANGLED SKEIN</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>I Quantum Mutatus</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_79">79</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>II Healthy Philistinism</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_102">102</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>III Tin Gods</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_119">119</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>IV Through a Glass Darkly</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_130">130</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#BOOK_III_UNRAVELLING_THE_THREADS">BOOK III:</a> UNRAVELLING THE THREADS</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>I Common Room Faces</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_134">134</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>II Carnival</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_169">169</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>III Broadening Outlook</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_179">179</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>IV Thirds</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_185">185</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>V Dual Personality</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_196">196</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>VI The Games Committee</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_200">200</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>VII Rebellion</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_208">208</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>VIII The Dawning of many Dreams</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_213">213</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#BOOK_IV_THE_WEAVING">BOOK IV</a>: THE WEAVING</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>I The Twilight of the Gods</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_226">226</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>II Setting Stars</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_239">239</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>III Romance</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_242">242</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>IV The Dawn of Nothing</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_249">249</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>V The Things that Seem</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_259">259</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>VI The Tapestry Completed</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_277">277</a></td></tr> +</table></div> + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span></p> +<h2>PREFACE TO NEW EDITION</h2> + + +<p>Books have their fates and this one's has been curious. I wrote it +between January and March 1916, when I was seventeen and a half years +old and in camp at Berkhamsted with the Inns of Court O.T.C. I loathed +it there, everything about it, the impersonal military machine, the +monotonous routine of drills and musketry, the endless foot-slogging, +the perpetual petty fault-finding. I kept comparing my present life with +that which I had been leading ten, eighteen, thirty months ago at +Sherborne, as a schoolboy.</p> + +<p>My four years there had been very happy. I was the kind of a boy who +gets the most out of a public school. I loved cricket and football and +was reasonably good at them. I was in the first XV and my last summer +headed the batting averages. My father had lit in me a love of poetry +and an interest in history and the classics. More often than not I went +into a class-room looking forward to the hour that lay ahead. I enjoyed +the whole competitive drama of school life—the cups and caps and form +promotions. As I marched as a cadet over Ashridge Park I remembered that +a year ago I had been bicycling down to the football field for a punt +about on Upper. As I listened to a lecture on the establishment of an +infantry brigade, I thought of the sixth form sitting under that fine +scholar and Wordsworthian Nowell Smith to a discussion of Victorian +poetry. In the evenings on my way to night operations, passing +Berkhamsted School and looking at the lighted windows, I would think, +"At Sherborne now they are sitting round the games study fire waiting +for the bell to ring for hall". Day by day, hour by hour, I pictured +myself back at school.</p> + +<p>I was in a nostalgic mood, but I was also in a rebellious<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span> mood. +Intensely though I had enjoyed my four years at Sherborne, I had been in +constant conflict with authority. That conflict, so it seemed to me, had +been in the main caused and determined by authority's inability or +refusal to recognise the true nature of school life. The Public School +system was venerated as a pillar of the British Empire and out of that +veneration had grown a myth of the ideal Public School boy—Kipling's +Brushwood Boy. In no sense had I incarnated such a myth and it had been +responsible, I felt, for half my troubles. I wanted to expose it. Those +moods of nostalgia and rebellion fused finally in an imperious need to +relive my school days on paper, to put it all down, term by term, +exactly as it had been, to explain, interpret, justify my point of view.</p> + +<p>I wrote the book in six and a half weeks, getting up at half past four +every morning and returning to my manuscript at night after the day's +parades. I posted it, section by section, to my father who corrected the +spelling and punctuation, interjected an occasional phrase and sent it +to be typed. I never revised it. As the manuscript shows, it was printed +as it was written, paragraph by paragraph.</p> + +<p>The book after two or three refusals was accepted by Grant Richards and +published in July 1917 in the same week that I was posted as a +machine-gun second-lieutenant to the B.E.F. in France. It could not have +come out under luckier auspices. It had an immediate news value. There +was a boom in soldier poets. Robert Graves, Siegfried Sassoon, Robert +Nichols, W.J. Turner had recently made their debuts. Here was a soldier +novelist, the first and in his teens. As always in war-time there was a +demand for books and there was that summer a dearth of novels. A spirit +of challenge and criticism was in the air. The war after three years was +still "bogged down" and public opinion attributed allied failings in the +field to mismanagement in high places. The rebelliousness of <i>The Loom +of Youth</i> was in tune with the temper of the hour. Finally I had the +immense advantage of being the son of Arthur Waugh. My father as a +critic and a publisher was one of the most loved and respected<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span> figures +in the world of letters. Many were anxious to give his son a chance.</p> + +<p>The book had a flattering reception. Nothing of any particular interest +was being published at the moment and reviewers welcomed it. J.C. +Squire, Gerald Gould, Ralph Straus, C.K. Scott-Moncrieff, E.B. Osborn, +all made it their book of the week. Nor was it noticed only in the book +sections. Richards had suggested that Thomas Seccombe who was then +history professor at Sandhurst and had introduced the book to him, +should write a preface. That preface discussed the Public School system +in the light of contemporary events. The system, Seccombe wrote, "has +fairly helped, you may say, to get us out of the mess of August 1914. +Yes, but it contributed heavily to get us into it." The preface +encouraged and helped a journalist to use the book as the text for a +general article. Within a month it had received twenty-four columns of +reviews and was in its third impression. Grant Richards told my father +that with any luck he would sell five thousand copies.</p> + +<p>That was at the end of the August. Three weeks later the schools went +back and half the housemasters in the country found their desks littered +with letters from anxious parents demanding an assurance that their +Bobbie was not subject to the temptations described in this alarming +book. In self-defence the schoolmasters hit back and by mid-November the +book had become the centre of violent controversy. In many schools the +book was banned and several boys were caned for reading it. Canon Edward +Lyttleton, the ex-headmaster of Eton, wrote a ten-page article in <i>The +Contemporary</i>—then an influential monthly—explaining how biased and +partial a picture the school gave. <i>The Spectator</i> ran for ten weeks and +<i>The Nation</i> for six a correspondence filling three or four pages an +issue in which schoolmaster after schoolmaster asserted that whatever +might be true of "Fernhurst", at his school it was all very different. +Grant Richards adeptly fanned the conflagration. He had initiated that +summer an original style of advertising. He inserted each week in the +<i>Times Literary Supplement</i><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span> a half column of gossip about his books and +authors. It was set in small heavy black type, and caught the eye. +Richards was a good writer and it was very readable. He was, I think, +the first publisher to exploit the publicity value of unfavourable +comment. Richard Hughes, at that time in the sixth form at Charterhouse, +wrote, as his weekly essay, an attack on <i>The Loom of Youth</i>. His form +master, Dames Longworth, a fine old Tory, sent it up to <i>The Spectator</i>, +as a counterblast to such "pernicious stuff". Next week Grant Richards +quoted him. Mr. Dames Longworth called the book "pernicious stuff", but +Clement Shorter prophesied in <i>The Sphere</i> that it would prove "the +Uncle Tom's Cabin of the Public School system". By Christmas the book +was a best seller.</p> + +<p>A modern reader will wonder what all this fuss and indignation was +about. Two points are to be remembered. First that before World War I +Britain's imperial destiny was never questioned, and the Public School +system as a bulwark of Empire was held sacrosanct. Second that no book +before <i>The Loom of Youth</i> had accepted as part of the fabric of School +life the inevitable emotional consequences of a monastic herding +together for eight months of the year of thirteen year old children and +eighteen year old adolescents. On that issue such a complete conspiracy +of silence had been maintained that when fathers were asked by their +wives, and schoolmasters by parents who had not themselves been at +public schools whether "such things really could take place", the only +defence was a grudging admission, "Perhaps in a bad house, in a bad +school, in a bad time."</p> + +<p>I followed the controversy with mixed feelings. I was delighted of +course at the book's success. At the same time I was distressed at being +accused of having libelled the school where I had been so happy, to +which I was so devoted, and to so many of whose masters—in particular +its headmaster—I owed so much.</p> + +<p>Well, that is all a long long time ago, and usually nothing is more dead +and dated than the book which once caused controversy.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span> Yet <i>The Loom of +Youth</i> has continued to sell steadily from one year to the next; in 1928 +it was included in Cassell's Pocket Library; in 1942 it was issued as a +Penguin and now that the original plates are wearing out, Mr. Martin +Secker and the directors of The Richards Press feel that it is worth +their while to reset the type and give the book another lease of life. I +hope that their confidence will be justified. If it is, it will be for +reasons very different from those which made <i>The Loom of Youth</i> a best +seller in 1917. The modern reader will find nothing here to shock or +startle him. Several years ago a friend was reading the book in my +company. "When do I reach <i>the</i> scene?" he asked. I looked over his +shoulder. "You've passed it, ten pages back," I told him. At the same +time the book is not presented as a "period piece". Though England +to-day is a different country, socially and economically, from what it +was in 1911 when I went to Sherborne, I do not think that in essentials +the life of the Public School boy has greatly changed. Most schools are +larger than they were, but they have retained the same traditions and +ideals; there is the same atmosphere of rivalry and competing loyalties; +youth has the same basic problems, is fired by the same ambitions, beset +by the same doubts. And if the modern reader, after turning a page or +two finds his attention held and wants to go on reading, it will mean +that this book has become at last what in fact it was always meant to +be—a realistic but romantic story of healthy adolescence set against +the background of an average English Public School.</p> + +<p> April, 1954.</p> + +<p> Alec Waugh</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="BOOK_I_WARP_AND_WOOF" id="BOOK_I_WARP_AND_WOOF"></a>BOOK I: WARP AND WOOF</h2> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"While I lived I sought no wings,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Schemed no heaven, planned no hell;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But, content with little things,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Made an earth and it was well."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Richard Middleton.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_I_GROPING" id="CHAPTER_I_GROPING"></a>CHAPTER I: GROPING</h2> + + +<p>There comes some time an end to all things, to the good and to the bad. +And at last Gordon Caruthers' first day at school, which had so combined +excitement and depression as to make it unforgettable, ended also. +Seldom had he felt such a supreme happiness as when he stepped out at +Fernhurst station, and between his father and mother walked up the +broad, white road that led past the Eversham Hotel to the great grey +Abbey, that watches as a sentinel over the dreamy Wessex town. There are +few schools in England more surrounded with the glamour of mediæval days +than Fernhurst. Founded in the eighth century by a Saxon saint, it was +the abode of monks till the Dissolution of the Monasteries. Then after a +short interregnum Edward VI endowed it and restored the old curriculum. +The buildings are unchanged. It is true that there have sprung up new +class-rooms round the court, and that opposite the cloisters a huge +yellow block of buildings has been erected which provides workshops and +laboratories, but the Abbey and the School House studies stand as they +stood seven hundred years ago. To a boy of any imagination, such a place +could not but waken a wonderful sense of the beautiful. And Gordon +gazing from the school gateway across to the grey ivy-clad studies was +taken for a few moments clean outside himself. The next few hours only +served to deepen this wonder and admiration. For Fernhurst is prodigal +of associations. The School House dining-hall is a magnificent +oak-panelled room, where generations of men have cut their names; and +above the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span> ledge on which repose the silver challenge cups the house has +won, is a large statue of King Edward VI looking down on the row of +tables. When he first entered the hall, Gordon pitied those in other +houses immensely. It seemed to him that though in "the outhouses"—as +they were called at Fernhurst—the eugenic machinery might be more up to +date, and the method of lighting and heating far more satisfactory, yet +it could not be the same there as in the School House; and he never +quite freed himself of the illusion that, if the truth were known, every +outhouse boy rather regretted that he had not chosen otherwise. For +indeed the bloods of other houses are very often found sitting over the +fire in the School House games study.</p> + +<p>Until about six o'clock Gordon could not have been happier, his future +seemed so full of possibilities. But when his father and mother left him +to catch the afternoon train back to town, and the evening train brought +with it a swarm of boys in the most wonderful ties and socks, and all so +engrossed in their own affairs, and so indifferent to his, Gordon began +to feel very lonely. Supper was not till nine and he had three hours to +put in. Very disconsolately he wandered round the green slopes above the +town where was the town football ground and where in the summer term +those members of the Fifteen who despised cricket would enjoy their +quiet pipe and long for the rains of November. But that walk did not +take long, especially as he did not dare to go out of the sight of the +Abbey for fear of getting lost. When he returned to the House the court +was loud with shouts and laughter. Everyone had something to do. There +was the luggage to fetch from the day-room. The town porter, known +generally as Slimy Tim, was waiting to be tipped. Health certificates +had to be produced. There was a sporting chance of finding in Merriman's +second-hand bookshop—out of bounds during term-time—an English version +of Vergil and Xenophon. There were a hundred things to do for everyone +except Gordon. There were several other new boys, doubtless, to be found +among this unending stream of bowler hats. But he saw no way of +discovering them. He did, it is true, make one attempt. Very bravely he +walked up to a rather bored individual who was leaning against the door +that led into<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span> the studies and asked him if he was a new boy. His +reception was not friendly. The person in question was Sandham of the +Lower Sixth, who had been made a house prefect and was very conscious of +it, and who was also well aware of the fact that he was not very tall. +His friends called him "The Cockroach"; and Gordon was told politely to +go elsewhere. He did not, however, go where he was told, but sauntered +sadly down to the matron's room, only to find it full of people all with +some complaint. Some had lost their keys, others were furious that their +people should have been charged for biscuits and sultana cake that they +had never had, but the greater part were wanting to know why the old +bathroom had been turned into a study for the Chief's secretary, while +they had been given in exchange a lot of small zinc hip-baths. To the +smaller members of the House this change was rather popular. On the days +when there were only four baths among eighty, it did not matter very +much to them how large they were, if they were always occupied by the +bloods, while however small the new baths might be, there were +sufficient to go round. The bloods did not look on the matter in this +light.</p> + +<p>Gordon walked from room to room utterly miserable. Nobody took the +slightest notice of him, only one person asked his name, and that was a +small person of one term's standing who wanted to show that he was a +power in the land. At last, however, the old cracked bell rang out for +supper, and very thankfully he took his place among the new boys at the +bottom of the day-room table. Evening prayers in the School House had +once been rather a festive occasion, and a hymn chosen by the head of +the House was sung every night. It had been the custom to choose a hymn +with some topical allusion. For instance, on the evening when the House +tutor had given a hundred lines to every member of the day-room for +disturbing a masters' meeting, by playing cricket next door, they chose +<i>Fierce raged the Tempest o'er the Deep</i>; and on one occasion when an +unpopular prefect had been unexpectedly expelled the House was soothed +with the strains of <i>Peace, Perfect Peace</i>. But those days were over. A +new headmaster had come with an ear for music, and the riot of melody +that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span> surged from the V. A table seemed to him not only blasphemous, but +also inartistic. And so hymn-singing stopped, and only a few prayers +were read instead.</p> + +<p>On this particular evening the Chief was in high spirits. It was +characteristic of his indomitable kindliness and optimism that, though +he ended every term in a state of exhaustion, having strained his energy +and endurance to the breaking-point, he invariably began the new term in +a spirit of geniality and hope. It was not till years later that Gordon +came to understand the depth of unselfish idealism that burned behind +the quiet modesty of the Chief; but even at first sight the least +impressionable boy was conscious of being under the influence of an +unusual personality. There was nothing of the theatrical pedagogue about +him; he surrounded himself with no trappings of a proud authority. His +voice was gentle and persuasive; his smile as winning almost as a +child's. The little speech with which he welcomed the House back, and a +passing allusion, half humorous, half appealing, to the changes in the +bath-rooms were perhaps too homely to impress the imagination of the +average inhuman boy. But they were the sincere expression of the man—an +idealist, with an unfailing faith in human nature, founded in an even +deeper faith in Christianity.</p> + +<p>When he had gone, Gordon ventured to look round at the sea of faces. On +a raised dais was the Sixth Form table. In the middle, haughty, +self-conscious, with sleepy-looking but watchful eyes, sat the captain +of the House, Lovelace major, in many ways the finest athlete Fernhurst +ever produced, who had already got his County cap and played "Rugger" +for Richmond. Gordon had seen him bat at Lord's for the Public Schools +<i>v.</i> M.C.C., and before he had come to Fernhurst, Lovelace had been the +hero of his imagination; ambition could hardly attain a higher pedestal.</p> + +<p>There were about twelve in all at the Sixth Form table, of whom the +majority were prefects; and no one could leave the hall till one of them +went out. After a few minutes' conversation, in which no one ate +anything, although plates of hot soup were busily provided, someone got +up and went out. Immediately there was a rush towards the door, and +Gordon was borne down the long<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span> winding passage to the foot of the +stairs that led to the dormitories. Here, however, for some reason, +everyone stopped and began to talk at the top of their voices. Gordon +saw no reason for the delay, but thought it better to follow the throng, +and waited. As a matter of fact, the last train up from town had just +come in. There are some who always demand the last ounce of flesh; there +are always those who return by the last possible train, although it +stops at every station on the way. Suddenly, however, the House tutor +shouted from the top of the stairs, "Lights out in the upper dormitories +by nine-thirty," and the procession moved upstairs.</p> + +<p>The upper dormitories in the School House were, like most other school +dormitories, a dismal spectacle. There was a long passage running down +from the House tutor's room, and on the left were doors leading into +long, bare rooms, with the usual red-quilted beds and the usual +wash-hand basins. On the right-hand side was the bathroom. The upper +dormitories were occupied by the smaller boys of the House. Once a +prefect had been put in charge over each room, but the system did not +work very well, and soon came to an abrupt end, so that there was only +the House tutor to keep them in order till the prefects went to bed in +the lower dormitories an hour later; and then any sound was promptly +dealt with. Gordon had been placed in the largest room, which was known +as "the nursery." It contained ten beds, and only four of its +inhabitants were of more than one term's standing. Among other less +enviable claims to fame, it had the reputation of being the finest +football-playing dormitory, and every night its members would race up +from supper to play their game before the House tutor came to put out +lights at nine-fifteen. The new boys took it in turns to keep "cave," +and it must be owned that for the first few weeks the sentinel rather +preferred the rôle of onlooker to that of player, and found it hard to +sympathise with those who were continually flinging abuse at the huge +football crowds at Stamford Bridge. This night there was, of course, +hardly any ragging. There was so much to talk about, and some faint +interest was even taken in the new boys, for two very important-looking +young people, Turner and Roberts, swaggered into the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span> dormitories "just +to have a squint at the new kids," but after a casual inspection Turner +said in a lordly manner, "Good lord! what a crew," and the pair sought +better things elsewhere. Turner and Roberts were very insignificant +people during the daytime: they were little use at games, and even a +year's spasmodic cribbing had only managed to secure them a promotion +from the Second Form to the Third. But when the evening came they were +indeed great men, and ruled over a small dormitory that contained, +besides themselves, only four new boys who looked up to them as gods and +hung on their every word.</p> + +<p>But very soon the wanderings of these two gentlemen ceased, and at the +sound of the House tutor's tread down the passage they fled very +ingloriously to their own abode. Mr Parkinson, the House tutor, was one +of the most popular masters in the school. He had only just missed his +blue at Oxford, and since he had gone down had devoted all his energies +to training on the junior members of the House at football and cricket. +He was in rather a hurry this particular evening, as he had to make out +the list of studies, but he shook hands with everyone, and asked all the +new boys their names before turning out the lights, with instructions +not to kick up too much row.</p> + +<p>At last Gordon was at rest. For ten hours at least he would not have to +worry about anything. He lay back in bed contentedly and listened to the +conversation. As was natural, the talk was at first only about the +holidays, but it soon drifted round to school politics, and one Bradford +began to hold forth on the composition of the Fifteen, as if he was the +captain's bosom friend. To Gordon, of course, most of the names +mentioned signified nothing. He gathered that the great Lovelace was +going to be captain and was sure to have rows with Buller the games +master, but besides this he picked up very little. Gradually the +conversation turned on individuals, and especially on a certain +Meredith, who was apparently a double-first, with a reputation that did +not end on the cricket pitch.</p> + +<p>"You know I think Meredith goes a bit too far at times," came a voice +from the middle of the room.</p> + +<p>Bradford rose at once. "What the hell do you mean? Meredith go too far? +Why, he is a splendid wicket-keeper,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span> and far and away the finest +half-back in the school. You must allow a good deal to a blood like +him."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I know he is a magnificent athlete and all that, but don't you +think he does rather a lot of harm in the House?"</p> + +<p>"Harm? Who to?"</p> + +<p>"Well, I mean there's Davenham now and——"</p> + +<p>"Davenham!" came the scornful retort. "What does it matter what happens +to Davenham? He's absolutely useless to the House, rotten at games and +spends his whole time reading about fossils. Who cares a curse about +Davenham!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I suppose you are right, but——"</p> + +<p>"My dear ass, of course I am right. Meredith is a simply glorious +fellow. Do you remember the way he brought down Freeman in the Two Cock? +Why, the House simply couldn't get on without him."</p> + +<p>To Gordon all this conveyed very little. He had no idea who Meredith or +Davenham were. The only thing he realised was that for those who wore a +blue and gold ribbon laws ceased to exist. It was apparently rather +advantageous to get into the Fifteen. He had not looked on athletics in +that light before. Obviously his preparatory school had failed +singularly to keep level with the times. He had always been told by the +masters there that games were only important for training the body. But +at Fernhurst they seemed the one thing that mattered. To the athlete all +things are forgiven. There was clearly a lot to learn.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_II_FINDING_HIS_FEET" id="CHAPTER_II_FINDING_HIS_FEET"></a>CHAPTER II: FINDING HIS FEET</h2> + + +<p>The new boy's first week at a Public School is probably the most +wretched he will ever pass in his life. It is not that he is bullied. +Boots are not shied at him when he says his prayers; he is not tossed in +a blanket; it is merely that he is utterly lonely, is in constant fear +of making mistakes, is never certain of what may happen next, and so +makes for himself troubles that do not exist. And when Gordon wrote<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span> +home to his people at the end of his second day it did not need a very +clever mother to read between the lines and see that her son was +hopelessly miserable.</p> + +<p>His worries began at once. On the first day of term discipline is, of +course, very slack. There is only an hour's work, which is, for the most +part, spent in finding out what books are needed. There is no +preparation set for the evening, breakfast is at eight-thirty instead of +seven-forty-five, and it does not matter how late anyone comes in. And +so when, at eight o'clock, the School House butler, who had watched many +generations pass by with the same imperturbable smile, walked down the +dormitories ringing a horribly cracked bell, no one paid any attention. +There was tons of time. Ordinarily no one ever got up till the quarter, +and to-day—well, twenty past would be ample. A voice from the end of +the room muttered drowsily: "Damn that bell." But besides that nothing +happened. Gordon was fearfully perplexed. He had expected everyone to +leap out of bed, seize a towel and rush to the shower-bath, but no one +had moved. Could it be possible that they were still asleep and had not +heard the bell? It seemed incredible, but it might be so. And if it +were, ought he to wake them up? It seemed rather cheek for a new boy, +but then, supposing the whole dormitory were late.</p> + +<p>Greatly daring, he stretched out a hand and touched the arm of the boy +sleeping next him. The individual in question merely turned over +subconsciously and said something fierce. Gordon relapsed into a state +of terror. During the next quarter of an hour he passed through all the +miseries of an unknown fear. Only twenty-four hours ago he had been at +breakfast with his father and mother in his home at Hampstead. It seemed +years ago. Here he was face to face with horrible, unexplained things. +The suspense grew unbearable. He was sure he heard someone moving next +door; the others were getting up; he would be late his first day. What a +start! But just as he was visioning the most dire punishments, James, an +insignificant person of one term's standing, slowly pushed back the +bed-clothes, picked up a towel and lethargically moved towards the door. +Gordon jumped up, happy at last, and made for the huge new bathroom. It +had an iron floor, sloped so as<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span> to allow water to drain off easily, and +contained six small baths and showers fixed above them. The room was +practically empty. He was glad of this; he did not want to have a shower +with a lot of people looking on. The water was very cold—he was used to +a tepid bath; but by the time he had begun to dry, the place was full of +boys all shouting at once. No one is more loud or insistent than he who +has just ceased to be labelled new. He likes everyone to know how +important he is, how free and how unfettered by rules, and the best way +to this end is to shout and curse everything. The room was filled with +shouts of "Good God! are we expected to get clean in babies' tubs?" +"What a fool the Chief is." "Oh, damn your eyes, that's my towel." "No, +there's yours, you blasted idiot." Gordon was immensely shocked at the +language. He had come from a preparatory school run by a master with +strong views on swearing, and for that matter on everything. He had been +kept thoroughly in order. He got out of the bathroom as quickly as +possible and made for his dormitory. It did not take long to dress. +There was indeed very little time, and as the half-hour struck, he was +carried down in the throng to the dining-hall.</p> + +<p>Breakfast is always rather a scramble, and nowhere more so than at a +Public School. The usual Fernhurst breakfast lasted about ten minutes. +Hardly anyone spoke, only the ring of forks on plates was heard and an +occasional shout of "Tea" from the Sixth Form table. They alone could +shout at meals, the others had to catch the servant's eye. To-day, +however, there was a good deal of conversation. Those who had come by +the last train had not seen all their friends the night before. There +was much shaking of hands. In the middle a loud voice from the head of +the Sixth Form table shouted out: "Silence! I want to see all new boys +in my study at nine o'clock." It was Clarke, the head of the House, who +spoke. He was tall, with pince-nez, one of those brilliant scholars who +are too brilliant to get scholarships. He was a fanatic in many ways, a +militarist essentially, a firebrand always. There was bound to be +trouble during his reign. He could never let anything alone. He was a +great fighter.</p> + +<p>Gordon looked up with immense awe. Clarke looked so<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span> powerful, so +tremendous; even Lovelace himself was not much greater. He wondered +vaguely what would be said to them.</p> + +<p>And indeed Clarke was even more imposing in his own study. The back of +the room sloped down into a low alcove in which hung strange Egyptian +curtains. The walls were decorated with a few Pre-Raphaelite +photogravures. Behind the door was a pile of cases. Clarke sat with his +back to the window.</p> + +<p>"Now you are all quite new to school life," he began, "entirely ignorant +of its perils and dangers, and you are now making the only beginning you +can ever make. You start with clean, fresh reputations. I don't know how +long you will remain so, but you must remember that you are members of +the finest house in Fernhurst. Last year we had the two finest athletes, +Wincheston and Lovelace, who played cricket for Leicestershire, and is +now captain of the House. We had also the two finest scholars, Scott and +Pembroke, both of whom won scholarships. Now we can't all be county +cricketers, we can't all win scholarships, but we can all work to one +end with an unfailing energy. You will find prefects here who will beat +you if you play the ass. Well, I don't mind ragging much and it is no +disgrace to be caned for that. But it is a disgrace to be beaten for +slacking either at games or work. It shows that you are an unworthy +member of the House. Now I want all of you to try. Some of you will +perhaps never rise above playing on House games, or get higher than the +Upper Fifth. But if you can manage to set an example of keenness you +will have proved yourselves worthy of the School House, which is beyond +doubt <i>the</i> House at Fernhurst. That's all I have got to say."</p> + +<p>That scene was in many ways the most vivid in Gordon's career. From that +moment he felt that he was no longer an individual, but a member of a +great community. And afterwards when old boys would run down Clarke, and +say how he had stirred up faction and rebellion, Gordon kept silent; he +knew that whatever mistakes the head of the House might have made, he +had the welfare of the House at heart and loved it with a blind, +unreasoning love that was completely misunderstood.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span></p> + +<p>It is inevitable that a new boy's first few days should be largely taken +up in making mistakes, and though it is easy to laugh about them +afterwards, at the time they are very real miseries. At Fernhurst, +things are not made easy for the new boy. Gordon found himself placed in +the Upper Fourth, under Fleming, a benevolent despot who was a master of +sarcasm and was so delighted at making a brilliant attack on some +stammering idiot that he quite forgot to punish him. "Young man, young +man," he would say, "people who forget their books are a confounded +nuisance, and I don't want confounded nuisances with me." Gordon got on +with him very well on the whole, as he had a sense of humour and always +laughed at his master's jokes. But he only did Latin and English in the +Fourth room, for the whole school was split up into sets, regardless of +forms, for sharing such less arduous labours as science, maths, French +and Greek. So that Gordon found himself suddenly appointed to Mr +Williams' Greek set No. V. with no idea of where to go. After much +wandering, he eventually found the Sixth Form room. He entered; someone +outside had told him to go in there. A long row of giants in stick-up +collars confronted him. The Chief sat on a chair reading a lecture on +the Maccabees. All eyes seemed turned on him.</p> + +<p>"Please, sir," he quavered out in trembling tones, "is this Mr Williams' +Greek set, middle school No. V?"</p> + +<p>There was a roar of laughter. Gordon fled. After about five more +minutes' ineffectual searching he ran into a certain Robertson in the +cloisters. Now Robertson played back for the Fifteen.</p> + +<p>"I say, are you one of the new boys for Williams' set?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"Well, look here, he's setting us a paper, and I don't know much about +it, and I rather want to delay matters. So look here, hide yourself for +a few minutes. I am just going to find Meredith and have a chat."</p> + +<p>For ten minutes Gordon wandered disconsolately about the courts. When at +last Robertson returned with his protégé the hour was well advanced, and +there would be no need for Robertson to have to waste his preparation +doing an imposition.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span></p> + +<p>On another occasion one of the elder members of his form told him to go +to "Bogus" for French. Now "Bogus" was short for the Bogus officer, and +was the unkind appellation of one Rogers. Tall, ascetic and superior, +with the air of a great philosopher, he had, like Richard Feverel's +uncle, Adrian Harley, "attained that felicitous point of wisdom from +which one sees all mankind to be fools." He was one of the happy few who +are really content; for in the corps as Officer Commanding he could +indulge continuously in his favourite pastime of hearing his own voice, +and as a clerk in orders the pulpit presented admirable opportunities +for long talks that brooked no interruptions. In the common room his +prolix anecdotes were not encouraged. But in the pulpit there was no +gainsaying him. His dual personality embodied the spirit of "the Church +Militant," a situation the humour of which the School did not fail to +grasp. But of all this Gordon, of course, knew nothing. After a long +search for this eminent divine, in perfect innocence he went up to a +master he saw crossing the courts.</p> + +<p>"Please, sir, can you tell me where Mr Bogus' class-room is?" He did not +understand till weeks afterwards why the master took such a long time to +answer, and seemed so hard put to it not to laugh.</p> + +<p>The story provided amusement in the common room for many days. Rogers +was not popular.</p> + +<p>It was in this atmosphere of utter loneliness and inability to do +anything right that Gordon's first week passed. Of the other new boys +none of them seemed to him very much in his line. There was Foster, +good-looking and attractive, but plausible and insincere. There was +Rudd, a scholar who had passed into the Fifth, spectacled, of sallow +appearance, and with a strange way of walking. Collins was not so bad, +but his mind ran on nothing but football and billiard championships. The +rest were nonentities, the set who drift through their six years, making +no mark, hurting no one, doing little good. Finally they pass out into +the world to swell the rout of civilised barbarians whom it "hurts to +think" and who write to the papers, talk a lot about nothing and then +die and are forgotten. The Public School system turns out many of these. +For it loves<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span> mediocrity, it likes to be accepted unquestioningly as was +the Old Testament. But times change. The Old Testament and the Public +School system are now both of them in the melting-pot of criticism.</p> + +<p>For the most part Gordon kept to himself. No one took any notice of him, +for he did nothing worthy of notice. He had rather looked forward to his +first game of football, for he had been quite a decent half-back at his +preparatory school. He might perhaps do something brilliant. But for his +first two days he wasn't allowed even to play a game. With the other new +boys he shivered in the autumn wind while Meredith, who rather +surprisingly seemed quite an ordinary sort of person, instructed them in +how to pack down. They were then told to watch the Upper game and see +how football should be played. It was here that Gordon first saw Buller, +the games master. He was indeed a splendid person. He wore a +double-breasted coat, that on anyone else would have looked ridiculous, +and even so was strikingly original. He had the strong face of one who +had fought every inch of his way. It was a great sight to see "the +Bull," as he was called, take a game; he rushed up and down the field +cursing and swearing. His voice thundered over the ground. It was the +first game after the summer holidays, and everyone felt rather flabby. +At half-time the great man burst out: "I have played football for +twenty-five years, I coached Oxford teams and Gloucestershire teams, led +an English scrum, and for fifteen years I have taught footer here, but +never saw I such a display! Shirking, the whole lot of you! Get your +shoulders down and shove. Never saw anything like it. Awful!" The Bull +said this to every team at least three times every season, but he was +every bit as generous with his praise as with his blame when things went +well, and he was a great man, a personality. Even a desultory Pick-Up +woke into excitement when the shrill, piping voice of a full-back came +in with, "'The Bull's' coming." There was only one man in Fernhurst who +was not afraid of him, and that was Lovelace, who was indeed afraid of +nothing, and who towered over his contemporaries by the splendour of his +athletic achievements, and the strength of an all-mastering +personality.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span></p> + +<p>On the next day Gordon had to watch another Upper game. This time "the +Bull" was more or less quiet. Lovelace was at the top of his form, and +Meredith twice cut through brilliantly and scored between the posts. +Then life seemed to Buller very good. After the game he rolled up to his +house perfectly satisfied, whistling to himself. It was not until the +Saturday that Gordon actually played in a game. He was originally +performing on the Pick-Up; but after a few minutes he was fetched to +fill a gap in a House game. He was shoved into the scrum, was perfectly +useless, and spent his whole time trying to escape notice. Only once he +got really near the ball. Just before half-time the ball was rolling +slowly towards him, the opposing full-back had failed to reach touch. +Gordon, steadying himself as at soccer, took a tremendous kick at the +ball, which screwed off his foot, and landed in the hands of the outside +three-quarter, who easily outpaced the defence and scored.</p> + +<p>"You bloody little fool," said someone. "For God's sake, no soccer +tricks here."</p> + +<p>Gordon did not attempt to repeat the performance. He was supremely +wretched, and merely longed for the day to end. No one understood him, +or even wanted to. His home became a very heaven to him during these +days.</p> + +<p>But sooner or later pain grows into a custom. The agonies of Prometheus +and Ixion must after a little while have ceased to cause anything more +than boredom. As soon as the mind is accustomed to what is before it, +there is an end of grief. It is the series of unexpected blows that +hurts. And so, Gordon after his first week found that life was not so +hard after all. He knew where his various class-rooms were: his +time-table was complete; he had slipped into the routine, and found that +there was a good deal of merriment for anyone with a sense of humour.</p> + +<p>Fleming was a constant source of amusement. One day Mansell, a member of +the School House Fifteen, had forgotten his book. The usual penalty for +forgetting a book was a hundred lines. Mansell had been posted on the +Lower ground. If he did well, he might be tried for the Second Fifteen. +The book must be got at all costs.</p> + +<p>"Please, sir, may I go and get a handkerchief?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Yes, young man, and hurry up about it."</p> + +<p>After five minutes Mansell returns, blowing his nose vigorously in his +silk handkerchief of many colours, for Mansell is by way of being a nut. +The book is under his coat. He sits down.</p> + +<p>Fleming fixes him with a stony glare—a long pause.</p> + +<p>"Mansell, take that book from under your coat."</p> + +<p>Reluctantly the miscreant does so. The dream of a Second's cap vanishes.</p> + +<p>"Conjurer!"</p> + +<p>The roar of laughter was sufficient to make Fleming forget all about +impositions. But Mansell did not perform very well on the Lower ground, +and Gordon overheard Lovelace remarking to Meredith that Mansell was +really rather a come-down for a School House cap.</p> + +<p>But, whatever his football performances, Mansell was a continual source +of laughter. He and Gordon were in the same Greek set and studied under +Mr Claremont, a dry humorist, who had adopted schoolmastering for want +of something better to do, had apparently regretted it afterwards, and +developed into a cynic.</p> + +<p>Mansell was easily the most popular man and the worst scholar in the +set, in which there were nineteen in all. Each week Claremont read out +the order. Gordon was usually about half-way up. Mansell fluctuated; one +week he "bagged" the translation Clarke was using for scholarship work. +He was second that week. But Clarke discovered the theft. There was a +fall. Many names were read in the weekly order, but Mansell's was not of +them. At last Claremont reached him.</p> + +<p>"Greek Prose, Mansell 19th; Greek Translation, Mansell 19th; Combined +Order, Mansell 19th." A roar of laughter. "Well, Mansell, I don't think +that a titter from your companions is a sufficient reward for a week's +bad work."</p> + +<p>The immediate result of this was that Mansell, realising that without +some assistance, printed or otherwise, his chances of a good report were +small, got leave from Clarke to fetch Gordon from the day-room to his +study in hall to prepare the work together. Gordon at once thought +himself a tremendous blood. There were advantages, after all, in being +moderately clever.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span></p> + +<p>About this time another incident helped to bring Gordon a little more +before the public eye. There had been a match in the afternoon <i>v.</i> +Milton A. Lovelace, as happens to all athletes at times, had an off day. +He missed an easy drop, fumbled two passes, and when the School were +leading by one point just before time, failed to collar his man, and +Milton A won by two points. "The Bull" raged furiously. Lovelace took +hall that night. He sat at the top of the table in the day-room and +gazed about, seeking someone on whom to vent his wrath. There was a dead +silence. Gordon was writing hard at a Latin prose. He looked up for a +second while thinking of a word.</p> + +<p>"Caruthers, are you working?" Lovelace snapped out.</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"You liar, you were looking out of the window, weren't you?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, but——"</p> + +<p>"I'll teach you to tell lies to me. Come and see me at nine o'clock."</p> + +<p>Very miserably Gordon continued his work. After about a quarter of an +hour:</p> + +<p>"Caruthers, will you take six, or a hundred lines?"</p> + +<p>Gordon thought it was not the thing to take lines:</p> + +<p>"Six."</p> + +<p>"Will you have it now or afterwards?"</p> + +<p>"Now."</p> + +<p>"Hunter, go and get a cane from my study."</p> + +<p>Trembling with fear, Gordon heard Hunter's feet ring down the stone +passage, saw him running across to the studies by the old wall. There +was silence again; then the sound of feet; Hunter returned.</p> + +<p>"Come out here, Caruthers."</p> + +<p>It hurt tremendously; he went back wishing he had taken the hundred +lines. But the others thought it amazingly brave of him. Lovelace minor, +handsome, debonair, a swashbuckler in the teeth of authority, came up +afterwards and said:</p> + +<p>"Damned plucky of you. My brother's a bit of an ass at times."</p> + +<p>It was not really plucky, it was merely the fear of doing the wrong +thing. But the House thought that, after all,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span> there might be something +in at least one of those wretched new kids. One or two people looked at +him almost with interest that night in hall.</p> + +<p>That was Gordon's first step. Afterwards things were not so hard. +Mansell began to think him rather a sport, as well as an indispensable +aid to classical studies, and Mansell counted for something. Meredith +smiled at him one day.... A public School was not such a bad hole after +all. And his cup of happiness seemed almost running over when one +afternoon after a game of rugger he overheard Lovelace minor say to +Hunter:</p> + +<p>"That kid Caruthers wasn't half bad."</p> + +<p>For he saw that the sure way to popularity lay in success on the field; +and because it was the weak as the strong point of his character that he +longed with a wild longing for power and popularity, it was already his +ambition to be some day captain of the House, and to lead his side to +glorious victories.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_III_THE_NEW_PHILOSOPHY" id="CHAPTER_III_THE_NEW_PHILOSOPHY"></a>CHAPTER III: THE NEW PHILOSOPHY</h2> + + +<p>"Of course 'the Bull' may be a jolly fine fellow and all that, but he +does exceed the limit at times."</p> + +<p>Lovelace minor was speaking; it was the evening after the Dulbridge +Match. The school had been beaten by twenty-seven points to three, by a +much faster and heavier side. Meredith had been ill and could not play. +Lovelace major had sprained his ankle in the first half, and though he +had gone on playing was very little use. The match had all along been a +foregone conclusion. But "the Bull" had lost his temper entirely.</p> + +<p>Hunter, Mansell and Jeffries, a Colt, who ran a good chance of getting +his House cap the next term, were discussing the matter. Gordon, who had +come in to do Thucydides, was sitting in the background, a little shy +and very interested.</p> + +<p>"Is it true," said Jeffries, "that your brother threatened to resign the +captaincy if he did not keep quiet?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Yes. By Jove, my brother let him have it. That's what 'the Bull' wants; +he wants a fellow who's not afraid of him to stand up against him. +Fernhurst has been run by him long enough. He is a splendid fellow; and +when he's sane I almost love him. But he has become an absolute tyrant. +Thank God, he can't ride roughshod over my brother."</p> + +<p>Mansell here broke in. Mansell was rather fond of summing up.</p> + +<p>"It's like this. 'The Bull's' a gorgeous fellow, he loves Fernhurst, he +wants to love everyone in it. But he does not understand our House. We +are not going to sweat ourselves to win some rotten Gym Cup or House +Fives; we haven't time for that. We are amateurs. We play the hardest +footer and the keenest cricket of all the houses, and that's where we +stop. He wants us to train every minute, go for runs in the afternoon, +do physical exercises before breakfast so as to become strong, +clean-living Englishmen, who love their bodies and have some respect for +their mind." (A roar of laughter. It was as though 'the Bull' were +speaking.) "Well, I don't care a damn myself for my body or mind. All I +know is that the House is going to get the Two Cock somehow, and that +for six weeks we'll train like Hades, and then, when we've got the cup, +we'll have a blind. We aren't pros who train the whole year round; we're +amateurs!"</p> + +<p>And Mansell was perhaps not far wrong.</p> + +<p>"I say, you know," says Hunter, who had a cheerful way of suddenly +flying off at a tangent, "talking of 'the Bull,' have you heard of the +row in his house?"</p> + +<p>Intense enthusiasm. Buller's was supposed to be "above suspicion."</p> + +<p>"Oh, well, old Bull came round the dormitories last night and heard +Peters and Fischer and some other lads talking the most arrant filth. He +gave them all six in pyjamas on the spot, and Fischer is not going to be +allowed to be house captain next year. Rather a jest, you know. Old Bull +thought because his house was always in wonderful training that the +spirit of innocence ruled over the place."</p> + +<p>"Well, he must be an ass then," said Mansell. "Why,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span> look at Richmore, +and Parry; and even old Johnson has little respect for a bourgeois +morality."</p> + +<p>Mansell was rather pleased with the last phrase; he was not quite +certain what it meant. G.K. Chesterton used it somewhere, probably in +his apology for George IV. It sounded rather nice.</p> + +<p>"Well, it's obvious that a blood must be a bit of a rip; and Buller's is +merely an asylum for bloods!"</p> + +<p>This rather perplexed Gordon. He ventured a question rather timidly: +"But is it impossible for a blood to be a decent fellow?"</p> + +<p>"Decent fellow?" cried Jeffries. "Who on earth has said they were +anything else? Johnson's a simply glorious man. Only a bit fast; and +that doesn't matter much."</p> + +<p>In a farewell lecture, Gordon's preparatory school master had given him +to believe that it mattered a good deal, but he was doubtless +old-fashioned. Times were changed; Gordon had ceased to be shocked at +what he heard; he was learning what life was, and how strange and +beautiful and ugly it was.</p> + +<p>As the winter term drew to a close, Gordon grew more and more sure of +himself. He had passed by nearly all the other new boys. Foster, it is +true, had got on well according to his lights, and was on more than +friendly terms with Evans, the school slow bowler. But he was not much +liked by his equals. Rudd was looked on quite rightly as an absolute +buffoon; Collins got on fairly well, but was generally admitted to be a +bit eccentric. Gordon was, without doubt, the pick of the crew. His +position in form was a great help. Mansell's friends thought him a +cheerful, amusing and respectable-looking person, and were quite pleased +to have him about the place. Next term he was going to have a study with +Jeffries. The Chief thought he had got on rather too quick. But he was +usually among the first three in his form, and there was nothing +definite to find fault with, and, after all, his friends were excellent +fellows. There was nothing against them. Jeffries was genially selfish, +always ready for a rag, a keen footballer, and had, like most other +Public School boys, adopted a convenient broadmindedness with regard to +cribbing and other matters.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span></p> + +<p>"If the master is such an arrant ass as to let you crib, it is his own +lookout; and, after all, we take the sporting chance."</p> + +<p>Lovelace minor was rather a different sort of person. Very excitable, he +despised and deceived most of the masters; among his friends he was +unimpeachably loyal. He loved games, but never took them sufficiently +seriously to please "the Bull." He played for his own pleasure, not "the +Bull's." He was a splendid companion.</p> + +<p>Hunter was rather a nonentity; his chief attraction was that he usually +had the last bit of scandal at his finger-tips; he was safe to be +consulted on any point of school politics. It was his boast that he had +sufficient evidence to expel half the Fifteen and the whole Eleven.</p> + +<p>At this time Gordon found school life inexpressibly joyful. There were +minor troubles, but they were few. The only thing that really worried +him was Corps Parade. This infliction occurred once every week, and for +two hours Gordon passed through hell. He was in a recruits' section +under a man from Rogers' house, who was a typical product of his house. +He was oily, yellow and unpleasant to look upon. He also loathed Gordon. +There was a feud between the men from Rogers' and the School House.</p> + +<p>Rogers was the captain in command of the corps. To Gordon he seemed +exactly like what Cicero must have been, loud, contentious, smashing +down pasteboard castles with a terrific din. He was amazingly arrogant +and conceited. In the pulpit and on the parade ground he was in his +element. The School House had for years been notorious for their +slackness on parade. In drill and musketry competitions they had +invariably come out bottom, and Rogers hated them for it. It was indeed +a great sight to see the School House half company at work. Everyone was +fed to death, and took no pains to hide the fact. Once Rogers had said +to the House colour-sergeant:</p> + +<p>"Phillips, form up your men facing right."</p> + +<p>Phillips looked round at them, thought for a second or two and then +drawled: "Look here, you fellows, shove round there." And the subsequent +sarcastic comment was quite lost on him. He was a good forward, but not +too clever. He was proof against epigram.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span></p> + +<p>It was truly a noble sight to see Lovelace minor come on parade. Every +week exactly two seconds late, in the dead silence that followed the +sergeant-major's thundered "Parade!" he would dash through the school +gate, puffing and blowing, his drum knocking against his equipment, his +hat crooked, half his buttons undone. He would barge through two +sections, rush to the School House half-company, bang his rifle on the +ground, and say to his companion in a stage whisper: "I wasn't noticed, +was I?"</p> + +<p>But these were only incidents. As a whole everything connected with the +corps was "a hell upon earth." Field days consisted of a long march, a +sublime mix-up, a speech from Rogers, a bad tea, then a long march home. +No one knew what was happening; no one cared. It was a sheer waste of +time. Only Rogers really enjoyed himself.</p> + +<p>Then suddenly it occurred to Clarke that such a state of affairs was a +disgrace to the House. He had just been made a colour-sergeant, and +determined to wake things up. He made a long speech to the House, +pointing out the necessity for National Service, the importance of +militarism, and its effect on citizenship. He finished by a patriotic +outburst, telling them that they were wearing the King's uniform, and +that it must be kept clean, with the brass badges polished. The House +was mildly interested; its attitude was summed up in Turner's remark:</p> + +<p>"The King's uniform will have to go buttonless as far as I am concerned. +Damned if I'll waste twopence to buy a rotten bone button."</p> + +<p>On the next parade, however, Clarke inspected the company. Half the +House had to call him the next morning, dressed properly, at seven +o'clock. That would mean getting up at six-thirty. General +consternation.</p> + +<p>"It's a crying scandal," said Lovelace minor. "If I had not been +reported for slacking at French I'd jolly well go and complain to the +Chief. How can anyone play football without proper sleep?"</p> + +<p>Gordon laughed from the depths of his arm-chair. There were advantages +in being a recruit, even if one was ordered about by a man in Rogers' +who didn't wash. Hunter and Jeffries raged furiously; they swore that +they would not turn up. "Who is Clarke, damn his eyes, to take on the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span> +privileges of a brigadier-general? It's a House tradition that no one +tries at parade."</p> + +<p>Overnight Hunter was very full of rebellion; but seven o'clock saw him +in shining brass, meekly standing before Clarke, who examined them from +his bed with an electric torch. But Jeffries cut; he was ever "agin the +government." He got six. His tunic was clean next week. The House +growled and cursed inwardly, but its appearance on parade was very +different. Clarke was a man.</p> + +<p>There is nothing so self-satisfying as to watch trouble from a safe +distance. Gordon was thoroughly happy. Mansell cursed heavily every +Monday night before the Tuesday parade. Clarke became to the House what +Cromwell was to Ireland; even the feeble Davenham thought it was a bit +thick. But Gordon was a recruit, and such things did not worry him. Life +was just then amazingly exciting. He was developing into quite a useful +forward. Mansell said he was certain for a place in the House Thirds +side. He was high up in form, and there was a good chance of his getting +a prize, but what perhaps counted more than anything else was the fact +that he was getting a position in the House. Prefects had ceased to ask +him what his name was. He was no longer a nonentity; he was looked on as +a coming man.</p> + +<p>As the term wore on, the thought of exams. brought to Gordon only a +feeling of excitement. There was little likelihood of disaster; there +was the certainty of a good struggle for the first place between himself +and one Walford, a dull though industrious outhouse individual. But to +some of his friends exams. seemed as the day of reckoning. Lovelace +minor was frankly at his wits' end. He had slacked most abominably the +whole term. He had prepared none of his books, and his next-door +neighbour had supplied him with all necessary information. Now the news +was about that IV. B was going to sit with the Sixth Form for exams. +Terror reigned. There could be no cribbing under the Chief's nose. +Jeffries was in the same plight; but he was a philosopher. "If I get +bottled in every paper," he said, "it will only mean about two hours' +work on each subject. But if I am going to know enough to avoid being +bottled, it will mean a good eight hours' work at each<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span> subject: six +hours wasted on each. In these times of bustle it can't be done. +Caruthers, pass me that red-backed novel on the second shelf!"</p> + +<p>Lovelace, however, was perturbed, and set out to prepare himself for the +ordeal. But his was a temperament that forbade application on any +subject other than horse racing. Every night he paced up and down the +study passages getting hints first from one person then another, and +always staying for a talk. By the end of preparation the result was +always the same—nothing done; and he and Jeffries both spent the last +Saturday in exactly the same way.</p> + +<p>But with Mansell it was different. If he got a promotion his pater had +promised him a motor bike. At first sight this seemed impossible. Hunter +in fact laid a hundred to one against his chances. But for once Mansell +really tried at something besides games. For two halls he worked solidly +from seven till ten, preparing small slips of paper that contained all +the notes he could find in Gordon's notebook, and that could fit +conveniently into the back of a watch. Everything was in his favour. +Claremont was taking exams. The first paper was Old Testament history. +Mansell looked at his watch repeatedly; but suddenly he came to an +unexpected question. He endeavoured to extract an answer from the man on +his right.</p> + +<p>Claremont spotted him.</p> + +<p>"Well, Mansell, if I ask you if you are cribbing, I know you will deny +it, and I don't want you to tell me a lie; but I must beg of you not to +talk quite so loudly."</p> + +<p>Any ordinary master would have torn up the boy's paper. But Claremont +was getting old.</p> + +<p>At any rate for the rest of the exams. Mansell relied entirely on his +notes. The Greek translation paper, however, was more than he could do. +Promotion did not count on a set subject, but only on English and Latin; +so Greek had gone by the board. After writing the most amazing nonsense +for two hours, Mansell decided that it was wiser not to enter into +competition at all with those low tricksters who had prepared their +work. He showed up no papers at all.</p> + +<p>Next day Claremont corrected the papers.</p> + +<p>"Well, Mansell, I can't find your paper anywhere."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I showed it up, sir."</p> + +<p>"Well, I am sure I don't know where it is. You had better go and find Mr +Douglas, and ask him if he knows anything about it."</p> + +<p>Mr Douglas was the mathematical master, to whom all marks were sent. He +added them up, and made out the orders.</p> + +<p>After an unnecessarily long interval Mansell returned.</p> + +<p>"I am sorry, sir; Mr Douglas has not seen them."</p> + +<p>"Well, I suppose it must be all my fault. I shall have to give you an +average on your papers, which, strange to say, have been, for you, +remarkably good."</p> + +<p>Mansell was averaged sixth for the paper. A real good bluff gives more +pleasure than all the honest exercises of one's life put together.</p> + +<p>There was laughter in No. 16 Study that evening. A few weeks ago Gordon +would have been horrified at such a thing; but now it seemed a splendid +jest. He would not have cribbed himself. He preferred to beat a man with +his own brains, though Mansell would have protested that it was a +greater effort to pit one's brains against a master long trained in +spotting tricks than against some dull-headed scholar. The Public School +system, at any rate, teaches its sons the art of framing very ingenious +theories with which to defend their faults; a negative virtue, perhaps, +but none the less an achievement.</p> + +<p>The last days of term were now drawing in. The House supper was only a +few days off and the holidays very close. Everyone was glad on the whole +to have finished the Christmas term, which is invariably the worst of +the three. And this year it had not been improved by Clarke's military +activities and the feeling of unrest that overhung the doings of the +Fifteen, because of Lovelace major's never-ending broils with "the +Bull." Two strong men both wanted their own way. On the whole, honours +were even, though, if anything, slightly in Lovelace's favour, since he +had filled up the scrum with a School House forward and a member of +Benson's, a small and rather insignificant House, instead of giving the +colours to men in Buller's.</p> + +<p>But next term there would be fewer rows. There would be house matches, +and each house captain would run<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span> things in his own house as he wished. +The school captain did little except post up which grounds each house +was to occupy. The School House always longed for the Easter term. It +was their chance of showing the rest of the school what they were made +of. As they were slightly bigger than any other house, they claimed the +honour of playing the three best of the outhouses in the great Three +Cock House Match for the Senior Challenge Cup. This year, with Lovelace +and Meredith, a School House victory was looked on as almost certain. +Besides this big event there were the Two Cock and Thirds House Match. +In the "Thirds" the School House under sixteen house side played against +the two best of the outhouses under sixteen sides, for the Thirds +Challenge Cup. And in the Two Cock, the second House Fifteen—that is, +the House Fifteen minus those with first and second Fifteen +colours—played the two best of the outhouse second Fifteens for the +Junior Challenge Cup. The results of these last two matches were very +much on the knees of the gods. The House stood a fair chance, but the +general opinion was that Buller's would win the Thirds; and Christy's, a +house that was full of average players who were too slack to get their +seconds, would pull off the Two Cock. At any rate, there would be no +lack of excitement. There was always far more keenness shown about house +matches than school matches, a fact which worried Buller immensely. He +thought everything should be secondary to the interests of Fernhurst.</p> + +<p>On the last Saturday of the term there was the House Supper. It was a +noble affair. The bloods wore evening dress; even the untidiest junior +oiled his hair and put on a clean collar. At the Sixth Form table sat +the Chief, some guests, Lovelace, Clarke, and a certain Ferguson, who +edited <i>The Fernhurst School Magazine</i>, and was to propose the health of +the old boys, of whom about twenty had come down, several having helped +to defeat the school by twenty points to sixteen in the afternoon. Never +had so much food been seen before. Turner had boasted that he always +went into training a week before the event, so as to enjoy it more. But +the real triumph was the hot punch. As soon as dessert had begun the old +boys trooped out, and brought in a huge steaming bowl of punch, from +which they filled all the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span> glasses. Gordon did not like it much. It +seemed very hot and strong. But everyone else seemed to. Jeffries got a +little excited.</p> + +<p>Then speeches followed. The Chief proposed the fortune of the House, +Clarke answered him. There was the usual applause and clapping. But the +real event was Lovelace's speech. It had been a year of great success. +The Three Cock had been lost by only a very small margin. The Two Cock +had been won in a walk-over, and the Thirds by two points. The Senior +Cricket and the Sports Cup had also been won. It was very nearly a +record year. Lovelace was received with terrific applause; he +congratulated the House on its performance; he mentioned individual +names; each was the signal for a roar of cheering; and then, at the end, +he said:</p> + +<p>"And now I have a message to the House from the old boys. Let us have +the Three Cock Cup back again on the School House sideboard. It is the +place where it should be, and that's the place where we are going to put +it! Gentlemen, The Three Cock!"</p> + +<p>Amid a deafening noise the toast was drunk, and a voice from the back +yelled out: "Three cheers for Lovelace!" His health, too, was drunk, and +they sang <i>For he's a Jolly Good Fellow</i>.</p> + +<p>After this all else seemed tame. Ferguson made a speech that was meant +to be very funny, but rather missed fire. He had read <i>Dorian Gray</i> the +whole of the evening before, underlining appropriate aphorisms. But to +the average boy Oscar Wilde is (rather luckily perhaps) a little too +advanced. The evening finished with <i>Auld Lang Syne</i>. Everyone stood on +the table and roared himself hoarse. The score in damage was twenty +plates broken beyond repair, sixteen punch glasses in fragments, +fourteen cracked plates, two broken gas mantles. When the revellers had +departed the hall looked rather gloomy, as probably Nero's did when his +guests fled after the murder of Britannicus.</p> + +<p>Next morning there was early service for communicants. But the School +House was entirely pagan. Hardly a man went. On Sunday there was a great +feed in Study 16. Somehow or other ten people got packed into as many +square feet of room. Gordon was there; and Mansell, of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span> course; Collins +came to act as general clown; Fitzroy, a small friend of Jeffries, sat +in a far corner looking rather uncomfortable. Spence, Carey and Tiddy +made up the number; the last were quite the ordinary Public School type, +their conversation ran entirely on games, scandal and the work they had +not done. Lovelace was mildly bored.</p> + +<p>"It's pretty fair rot, you know. Here have I been fair sweating away at +the exams, every minute of my time, and Jeffries, who has not done a +stroke, is above me."</p> + +<p>Jeffries was bottom but one.</p> + +<p>"Oh, rotten luck," said Mansell. "You should do like me. Old fool +Claremont said I had done damned well!"</p> + +<p>"He hardly put it that way," came from Gordon; "but I believe Mansell +has managed more or less to deceive the examiners."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I say, that's a bit thick, you know," said Mansell. "Oh, damn, who +is that at the door?"</p> + +<p>There was a feeble knock. "Come in!" shouted at least six voices +simultaneously.</p> + +<p>Davenham came in looking rather frightened.</p> + +<p>"I'm sorry.... Is Caruthers in here?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, young fellow, he is."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Caruthers, Meredith wants you!"</p> + +<p>"Damn him," said Gordon. "What a nuisance these prefects are."</p> + +<p>Very unwillingly he got up and strolled upstairs.</p> + +<p>He was away rather a long time. After twenty minutes' absence he +returned rather moodily.</p> + +<p>"Hullo, at last; you've been the hell of a long time," said Hunter. +"What did he want?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, nothing; only something about my boxing subscription."</p> + +<p>"Well, he took long enough about it, I must say. Was that all?"</p> + +<p>"Of course. Cake, please, Fitzroy!"</p> + +<p>The subject was dropped.</p> + +<p>But just before chapel Jeffries ran into Gordon in the cloister.</p> + +<p>"Look here, Caruthers, what did Meredith really want you for? I swear I +won't tell anyone."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Oh, well, I don't mind you knowing.... You know what Meredith is, +well—I mean—oh, you know, the usual stuff. He wanted me to meet him +out for a walk to-morrow. I told him in polite language to go to the +'devil.'"</p> + +<p>"Good Lord, did you really? But why? If Meredith gets fed up with you he +could give you the hell of a time."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I know he could, but he wouldn't over a thing like that. Damn it +all, the man is a gentleman."</p> + +<p>"Of course he is, but all the same he is a blood, and it pays to keep on +good terms with them."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I don't know; it's risky—and well, I think the whole idea is +damned silly nonsense."</p> + +<p>Jeffries looked at him rather curiously.</p> + +<p>"Yes," he said, "I suppose that is how the small boy always looks at +it."</p> + +<p>It was only for an hour or so, however, that Gordon let this affair +worry him. The holidays were only forty-eight hours off and he was +longing to hear the results of the exams., and to know whether he had a +prize.</p> + +<p>Prize-giving was always held at five o'clock on the last Monday. And the +afternoon dragged by very slowly. Mansell assumed a cheerful +indifference. He thought his motor bike fairly certain. Rumour had it +there were going to be at least twelve promotions into the Lower Fifth. +Jeffries and Lovelace had also nothing to worry about; there was little +doubt as to their positions. Hunter specialised in chemistry, and had +done no examination papers. But for Gordon the suspense was intolerable. +He could find nothing to do; he climbed up the Abbey tower, and wrote +his name on the big hand of the clock; he roped up his playbox, tipped +the school porter; and still there was an hour and a half to put in. +Disconsolately he wandered down town. He strolled into Gisson's, the +school book-seller's: it contained nothing but the Home University +Library series and numerous Everymans. It was just like his first day +over again. But at last five o'clock came, and he sat with his four +friends at the back of the big schoolroom. He grew more and more tired +of hearing the lists of the Second and Third Forms read out. What +interest did he take in the doings of Pappenheim and Guttridge<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span> tertius? +IV. A was reached at length. The list was read from the bottom.</p> + +<p>Not placed—Hunter.</p> + +<p>Slowly the names were read out; the single figures were now reached:</p> + +<p>Mansell—term's work, eighteen. Exams., one. Combined order, four.</p> + +<p>This difference of position caused a titter to run round among those of +the School House who knew the cause of it. The third name and then the +second was reached:</p> + +<p>Caruthers—Term's work, one. Exams., three. Combined order, one.</p> + +<p>Term's Prize—Caruthers. Exams.—Mansell.</p> + +<p>The latter's performance was the signal for an uproarious outburst of +applause, in which laughter played a large part. There was still more +merriment when it was discovered that he had got as a prize <i>Sartor +Resartus</i>. As he crudely put it: "What the bloody hell does it mean?" +Gordon got the <i>Indian Mutiny</i>, by Malleson. Both books now repose, as +do most prizes, in the owners' book-cases, unread.</p> + +<p>"Congrats, Mansell, old fellow," yelled Lovelace minor, as the school +poured out at the end of the prize-giving. "Glorious! What a School +House triumph."</p> + +<p>"Yes, you know," said Mansell. "But it doesn't seem quite fair, and I am +damned if I want this book. It looks the most utter rot. I say, shall I +give it to that little kid in Buller's, I forget his name, who was +second? He looks a bit upset. Shall I, I say?"</p> + +<p>"Don't be a silly fool, Mansell," said Lovelace major, who happened to +overhear the conversation. "You've just got the only prize you're ever +likely to get for work; stick on to it."</p> + +<p>The rest of the day was pure, unalloyed joy to Gordon. He rushed off +after tea to wire the news home; then he sat in the gallery and listened +to the concert. He had expected to enjoy it rather; but the seats were +uncomfortable, the music too classical, and he soon stopped paying any +attention to the choir, and began a long argument with Collins as to the +composition of the Two Cock scrum.</p> + +<p>The next morning as the train steamed out of Fernhurst,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span> and he lay back +in the carriage smoking a cigarette, outwardly with the air of a +connoisseur, inwardly with the timid nervousness of a novice, he +reflected that, in spite of the Rev. Rogers, school was a pretty decent +sort of place.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IV_NEW_FACES" id="CHAPTER_IV_NEW_FACES"></a>CHAPTER IV: NEW FACES</h2> + + +<p>"I say, it <i>is</i> true; Lovelace major has left."</p> + +<p>"Good Lord, no; is it?"</p> + +<p>"He's not on the House list?"</p> + +<p>"I heard he'd passed into the army at last."</p> + +<p>"I wonder who he was sitting next."</p> + +<p>"And we shall have that silly ass Armour captain of the House."</p> + +<p>"Ye gods!"</p> + +<p>A small crowd had gathered in front of the studies on the first night of +the Easter term. Consternation reigned. The almost impossible had +happened. Lovelace major had passed into Sandhurst at his fifth attempt, +and Armour would take his place as house captain. It was a disaster. +Armour was doubtless a most worthy fellow, a thoroughly honest, +hard-working forward. But he had no personality. When he passed by, fags +did not suddenly stop talking, as they did when Clarke or Meredith +rolled past them. The term before, he had not even been a house prefect. +The Three Cock, which had once seemed such a certainty, now became a +forlorn hope.</p> + +<p>"It's rotten," said Lovelace minor that night in the dormitory. "My +brother didn't think he had the very ghost of a chance of passing. He'd +mucked it up four times running, only the silly ass had done both the +unseens with "the Bull" the week before, and he was too damned slack to +alter them, and write them down wrong. He always was an ass, my +brother."</p> + +<p>Everyone was sorry. Even "the Bull" regarded him with a sort of +indulgent sentimentality. He never saw<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span> very much good in a School House +captain as long as he was there; but as soon as he left, all his faults +were forgotten and virtues that he had never possessed were flung at him +in profusion. The result was that "the Bull" said to the School House +captain of each generation: "I have had more trouble with you than any +Fernhurst boy I have ever met. You can't see beyond the length of your +own dining-hall. See big. See the importance of Fernhurst, and the +insignificance of yourself."</p> + +<p>But no one was more sorry than Armour. He did not want responsibility; +he had not sought for it. He wished to have fought in the School House +battles as a private, not as an officer. He loved the House, and longed +for its success, and trembled to think that he might ruin its chances by +a weak and vacillating captaincy. Moreover, he felt that he had no one +to back him up. Meredith, Robey and Simonds, the other members of the +First Fifteen in the House, were all grousing and wondering how large a +score the outhouses would run up in the Three Cock. No one placed any +confidence in his abilities. He was entirely alone.</p> + +<p>The next day was pouring wet; the ground was under water. Most house +captains would have sent their houses for a run. But Armour wanted to +make his start as early as possible. He couldn't bear to delay. That +afternoon the probable Thirds side played against the rest of the House, +with the exception of the Second colours. Armour had never felt so +nervous before; it was actually the first time he had refereed on a +game. Jeffries was captain of the Thirds, and kicked off. It was, of +course, a scrappy game. On such a day good football was impossible. The +outsides hardly touched the ball once. But the forwards, covered in mud +from head to foot, had their full share of work. Jeffries was +ubiquitous; he led the "grovel" (as the scrum was called at Fernhurst), +and kept it together. Gordon had very little chance of distinguishing +himself; but he did one or two dribbles, and managed to collar Mansell +the only time he looked like getting away. Lovelace minor, who played +fly-half, had nothing to do except stop forward rushes, was kicked all +over his body, got very cold and never had a chance once. He was +utterly<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span> miserable the whole hour. All this was in favour of Armour. He +knew nothing about three-quarter work, but he had played forward ever +since he had gone to the Fernhurst preparatory at ten years of age, and +could always spot the worker and the slacker, which Lovelace major never +could. On the whole, taking a house game was not so terrifying after +all; by half-time he had forgotten his nervousness in his excitement at +watching how his side was going to shape.</p> + +<p>"You know, I don't think Armour so rotten as people said he would be," +said Gordon, as they came up after the game. "I thought he was all +right."</p> + +<p>"Oh yes, he's not so bad; but he does not seem much when you shove him +next to Lovelace major."</p> + +<p>"Well, you know," said Jeffries, "he does know something about forward +play, which I am damned if Lovelace did."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps so; but all the same Lovelace was the man to win matches." +Mansell was an outside, and loved dash and brilliance, but the forwards +were not sorry to have someone in command who understood them. Armour +had begun well.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>There are still people who will maintain that the ideal schoolboy in +school hours thinks only about Vergil and Sophocles, and in the field +concentrates entirely on drop kicks and yorkers. But that boy does not +exist; and in the Easter term it is impossible to think of anything but +house matches. Those who were in the power of some form martinet had a +terrible time this term. But Gordon and Mansell found themselves safely +at rest in Claremont's form and Greek set, and made up their minds just +to stay there and do only enough work to avoid being bottled.</p> + +<p>For the Lower Fifth was certainly the refuge of many weather-beaten +mariners. Pat Johnstone had laboriously worked up from the bottom form, +led on only by the hope that one day he would reach V. B, and there +repose at the back of the room, living his last terms in peace. Ruddock +had once set out with high hopes of reaching the Sixth; his first term +he had won a Divinity prize in the Shell. But under Claremont he had +discovered the truth, learnt long ago in the land of Lotus Eaters, "that +slumber is more<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span> sweet than toil!" The back benches of that room were +strewn with shattered hopes. Small intelligent scholars came up and +passed by on their way to Balliol Scholarships; but the faces at the +back of the room remained terribly somnolent and happy. A certain +Banbury had been there for three years and had earned the nickname of +"old Father Time," and Mansell, too, swore he would enrol himself with +the Lost Legion, while even Gordon said that nothing would shift him +from there for at least a year.</p> + +<p>Claremont had many strange ideas, the most striking of which was the +belief that boys felt a passionate love for poetry. The average boy has +probably read all the poetry he will ever read terms before he ever +reaches the Fifth Form. By the time he is in Shell he has learnt to +appreciate Kipling, the more choice bits of <i>Don Juan</i> and a few +plain-spoken passages in Shakespeare. If English Literature were taught +differently, if he were led by stages from Macaulay to Scott, from Byron +to Rossetti, he might perhaps appreciate the splendid heritage of song, +but as it is, swung straight from <i>If</i> to the <i>Ode to the Nightingale</i> +he finds the "shy beauty" of Keats most unutterable nonsense. Claremont, +however, thought otherwise, and ran his form accordingly. In repetition +this was especially noticeable. Kennedy, a small boy with glasses, who +was always word-perfect, would nervously mumble through Henry V's speech +(they always learnt Shakespeare) in an accurate but totally uninspired +way. Mansell would stand at the back of the form and blunder out blank +verse, much of which was his own, and little of which was Shakespeare, +but which certainly sounded most impressive.</p> + +<p>"Well, Kennedy," Claremont would say, "you certainly know your words +very well, but I can't bear the way you say them. Five out of twenty. +Mansell, you evidently have made little attempt to learn your repetition +at all, but I love your fervour. One so rarely finds anyone really +affected by the passion of poetry. Fifteen out of twenty."</p> + +<p>During his two years in the Lower Fifth Mansell never once spent more +than five minutes learning his "rep," yet on no occasion did he get less +than twelve out of twenty. A bare outline was required, a loud voice +supplied the rest.</p> + +<p>In this form it was that Gordon first began to crib. He<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span> did not do it +to get marks. He merely wished to avoid being "bottled." Some +headmasters, and the writers to <i>The Boy's Own Paper</i>, draw lurid +pictures of the bully who by cribbing steals the prize from the poor +innocent who looks up every word in a big Liddell and Scott; but such +people don't exist. No one ever cribbed in order to get a prize: they +crib from mere slackness. Mansell's exam. prize in IV. A is about the +only instance of a prize won by cribbing. Besides, cribbing is an art.</p> + +<p>Ruddock, for instance, when he used to go on to translate, was +accustomed to take up his Vergil in one hand and his Bohn in the other.</p> + +<p>"What is that other book, Ruddock?" Claremont asked once.</p> + +<p>"Some notes, sir," was the perfectly truthful answer.</p> + +<p>Ruddock was, moreover, an altruist; he always worked for the good of his +fellow-men. One day, when Mansell was bungling most abominably with his +Euripides, he flung his Bohn along the desk, Mansell picked it up, +propped it in front of him and read it off. Claremont never noticed. +This was the start of a great system of combination. Everyone at the +beginning of the term paid twopence to the general account with which +Ruddock bought some <i>Short Steps to Accurate Translations</i>. As each +person went on to translate, the book was passed to him and he read +straight out of it. The translating was, in consequence, always of a +remarkably high standard. Claremont never understood why examinations +always proved the signal for a general collapse. History, however, was a +subject that had long been a worry to the form. Dates are irrevocable +facts and cannot be altered, they must be learnt. At one time, when +Claremont said, "Shut your book. I will ask a few questions," everyone +shut their Latin grammars loudly and kept their history books open; but +this was rather too obvious a ruse; Claremont began to spot it. +Something had to be done. It would be an insult to expect any member of +the form to prepare a lesson. It was Gordon who finally devised a plan.</p> + +<p>"Please, sir," he said one day, "don't you think we should find history +much more interesting if we could bring in maps."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Well, perhaps it would," said Claremont sleepily. "I am sure the form +is very much indebted to you for your kind thought. Anyone who wants to, +may bring in a map."</p> + +<p>Next day everyone had found a huge atlas which he propped up on the +desk; and which completely hid everything except the student's actual +head. There was now no fear of an open book being spotted, it was so +very simple to shut it when Claremont began to walk about, and besides +... it made the lesson so much more interesting.</p> + +<p>And so Gordon and Mansell were able to discuss football the whole of +evening hall, never do a stroke of work, and yet get quite a respectable +half-term report.</p> + +<p>The interest in the Thirds was now becoming intense. As was expected, +Buller's easily beat all the outhouses, with Claremont's house as +runners-up. Claremont's house had once been the great athletic house, +but when a house master takes but little interest in a house's +performances, that house is apt to get stale, and soon Claremont's +became a name for mediocrity. As a house it was like V. B, a happy land +where no one worried about anything, and it was quite safe to smoke in +the studies on a Sunday afternoon. A side made up of two houses that had +never played together before was bound to lack the combination of a side +that had played together for several weeks. But the School House was +always playing against superior weight and strength, and more than once +had found itself unable to sustain their efforts, and after leading up +to half-time went clean to pieces in the last ten minutes. It is pretty +hard to hold a "grovel" several stones heavier for over an hour, and +this year even Armour was a little doubtful about the lightness of his +side. To Gordon and Jeffries, of course, defeat seemed impossible. Last +year Jeffries had played in a winning side and Gordon had yet to see the +House lose a match. But Mansell smiled sadly; he had played in a good +many losing sides. Gordon dreamed football night and day. He saw himself +securing wonderful last-minute tries, and bringing off amazing collars +when all seemed lost. But all his hopes were doomed to disappointment. +Two days before the game he slipped coming downstairs, fell with his +wrist under him, and with his arm in splints and sling had to watch from +the touch-line an outhouse<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span> victory of ten points to nothing. The usual +thing happened—the House was just not strong enough. Jeffries played a +great game, and fought an uphill fight splendidly; Lovelace only missed +a drop goal by inches; Fletcher, an undisciplined forward, did great +damage till warned by the referee. But weight told, and during the whole +of the last half the House were penned in their twenty-five, while the +school got over twice. Very miserably the House sat down to tea that +evening. It added insult to injury when an impertinent fag from Buller's +walked in in the middle and demanded the cup. Armour managed to keep his +temper, but that fag did not forget for weeks the booting Gordon gave +him the next day. Still it was a poor revenge for a lost cup.</p> + +<p>Whatever little chance there had ever been of Gordon getting a place in +the Two Cock was, of course, quite destroyed by his accident. The doctor +said he ought not to play again for at least three weeks. And so it was +that, as far as football was concerned, Gordon found himself rather out +of it. All his friends were in the thick of everything. Mansell was +captain of the Two Cock, Jeffries was leading the scrum, Hunter was +being tried as scrum half, and Lovelace was in training as a reserve. He +alone was doing nothing. For a few days the afternoons seemed unbearably +long. But Gordon had a remarkable gift for adapting himself to +circumstances. And he had very little difficulty in striking up new +acquaintances. So far, he had had very little to do with those outside +his actual set; with the majority of the House he was hardly on speaking +terms, and of Archie Fletcher he knew little except the name.</p> + +<p>Archie Fletcher was a great person; "great" in fact was the only +adjective that really fitted him. He had only two real objects in life, +one was to get his House cap, the other was to enjoy himself. And his +love of pleasure usually took the form of ragging masters. Ragging with +him did not consist in mere spasmodic episodes of bravado which usually +ended in a beating. He had reduced it to a science. It was to him the +supreme art. At present he was suffering from a kick on the knee which +he had received in the Thirds, and he and Gordon found themselves +constantly thrown together.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span></p> + +<p>Archie (no one ever called him anything else), was a splendid companion. +He had an enormous repertoire of anecdotes which he was never tired of +telling, and every one finished in exactly the same way: "Believe me, +Caruthers, some rag." Oh, a great man, forsooth, was Archie! He had +cynically examined every master with whom he had anything to do, picked +him to pieces, found out his faults, and then played on his weaknesses. +Sometimes, however, he went a little too far. On one occasion he was +doing chemistry with a certain Jenks, a very fiery little man, who +really believed in the educational value of "stinks." So did Archie; it +gave him scope to exercise his genius for playing the fool. But this day +he overstepped the bounds. In the distance, he saw Blake, his pet +aversion, carefully working out an experiment. A piece of glass tubing +was at hand; Jenks was not looking; Archie fixed the tube to the +waterspout, turned the tap; a cascade of H<sub>2</sub>O rose in the air and fell +on Blake's apparatus; there was a crash of falling glass. Jenks spun +round.</p> + +<p>"Oh, is that you, Fletcher, you stupid fellow? Come over here. I shall +have to beat you. Now then, where's my cane gone! Oh, then I shall have +to use some rubber tubing—stoop down, stoop down!"</p> + +<p>Laboriously Archie bent down; Jenks bent a piece of india-rubber tubing +double—its length was hardly a foot—and gave Archie a feeble blow. It +could not possibly have hurt him. But the victim leapt in the air, +clutching the seat of his trousers.</p> + +<p>"Oh!" he screamed. "Oh, sir, oh, sir! You have hurt me, sir. You are so +strong, sir."</p> + +<p>"Oh, then you are coward, too, are you?" said the delighted Jenks. +"Stoop down again; stoop down!"</p> + +<p>The form rocked with laughter.</p> + +<p>Archie received four strokes in all, and after each he went through the +same performance. Jenks thought himself a second Hercules; he repeated +the story in the common room. Archie repeated it also, in the studies: +"Believe me, you fellows, some rag!"</p> + +<p>A great man, and after Gordon's own heart!</p> + +<p>On a bleak, rainy afternoon Gordon and Fletcher watched the overwhelming +defeat of the House in the Two<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span> Cock. The score was over thirty points; +Mansell played only moderately; Jeffries was off his game. A gloom +settled down over the House, everyone became peevish and discontented. +It was said that the great days of House footer were over. To lose both +the Thirds and the Two Cock was a disgrace. No one expected anything but +a rout in the Three Cock. There were bets in the day-room as to whether +the score would be under fifty. Interest centred entirely on who would +get their House caps. With Lovelace away, the three-quarter line would +be innocuous: the forwards always had been weak. The House were bad +losers, they had grown accustomed to victories.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_V_EMERGING" id="CHAPTER_V_EMERGING"></a>CHAPTER V: EMERGING</h2> + + +<p>"Jeffries was pretty hot stuff to-day, wasn't he?"</p> + +<p>"Good Lord! yes. If he plays half as well as that in the Three Cock +he'll get his House cap."</p> + +<p>It was just after tea. Mansell was lying back in an easy-chair with his +feet on the table; he was dead tired after a strenuous game. Gordon was +sitting on the table. Hunter reclined in the window seat.</p> + +<p>"Where is he, by the way?" said Gordon. "I didn't see him in to tea."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I believe someone asked him out. Isn't he rather a pal of the +Jacobs in Cheap Street?"</p> + +<p>"I heard that there was a bit of a row on," said Hunter. "I couldn't +quite make out what about.... Oh, by Jove, that's him."</p> + +<p>Jeffries' voice was heard down the passage: "Mansell."</p> + +<p>A voice answered him: "Here, No. 34."</p> + +<p>Jeffries was heard running upstairs; he entered looking very dejected.</p> + +<p>"Hullo! Cheer up!" shouted Mansell. "I shouldn't have thought you could +have run like that after this afternoon's game. Where've you been?"</p> + +<p>"I say ... I'm in the deuce of a row."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span></p> + +<p>There was a shriek of laughter. Jeffries was always in a row; and he +always exaggerated its importance.</p> + +<p>"Don't laugh. It's no damned joke. I've got bunked."</p> + +<p>Silence suddenly fell on the group.</p> + +<p>"But ... what the hell have you been doing?"</p> + +<p>"Chief's found out all about me and Fitzroy, and I've got to go!"</p> + +<p>"But I never thought there was really anything in that," said Gordon. "I +thought——"</p> + +<p>"Oh, well, there was. I know I'm an awful swine and all that——Oh, it's +pretty damnable; and the Three Cock, too! I believe I should have got my +House cap!... I wasn't so dusty to-day—and I heard Armour say, as he +came off the field——Damn, what the bloody hell does it matter what +Armour said? It's over now. I just got across for a minute to see you +men.... I said I wanted a book.... Lord, I can't believe it...."</p> + +<p>When he stopped speaking there was again a dead silence. None of the +three had been brought face to face with such a tragedy before. Never, +Gordon thought, had the Greek idea of Nemesis seemed so strong.</p> + +<p>Hunter broke the silence.</p> + +<p>"What are you going to do now?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know. I shall go home, and then, I suppose, I shall have to go +to France or Germany, or perhaps some crammer. I don't know or care ... +it's bound to be pretty rotten...."</p> + +<p>He half smiled.</p> + +<p>"My God, and it's damned unfair," Mansell said suddenly. "There are +jolly few of us here any better than you, and look at the bloods, every +one of them as fast as the devil, and you have to go just because——Oh, +it's damned unfair."</p> + +<p>Then Jeffries' wild anger, the anger that had made him so brilliant an +athlete, burst out: "Unfair? Yes, that's the right word; it is unfair. +Who made me what I am but Fernhurst? Two years ago I came here as +innocent as Caruthers there; never knew anything. Fernhurst taught me +everything; Fernhurst made me worship games, and think that they alone +mattered, and everything else could go to the deuce. I heard men say +about bloods whose lives<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span> were an open scandal, 'Oh, it's all right, +they can play football.' I thought it was all right too. Fernhurst made +me think it was. And now Fernhurst, that has made me what I am, turns +round and says, 'You are not fit to be a member of this great school!' +and I have to go. Oh, it's fair, isn't it?"</p> + +<p>He dropped exhausted into a chair. After a pause he went on:</p> + +<p>"Oh, well, it's no use grousing. I suppose if one hits length balls on +the middle stump over square leg's head one must run the risk of being +bowled; and I didn't believe in sticking in and doing nothing. 'Get on +or get out,' and, well, I've got out." He laughed rather hysterically.</p> + +<p>Again silence.</p> + +<p>Slowly Jeffries got up.</p> + +<p>"Well, good-bye, you men." He shook hands. As he opened the door he +paused for a second, laughed to himself: "Oh, it's funny, bloody funny," +he murmured. "Not fit for Fernhurst.... Bloody funny." He laughed again, +bitterly. The door closed slowly.</p> + +<p>Jeffries' footsteps could be heard on the stairs. They grew fainter; the +door leading to the Chief's side of the House slammed. Down the study +passage a gramophone struck up <i>Florrie was a Flapper</i>.</p> + +<p>In Study 34 there was an awful stillness.</p> + +<p>That evening on the way down to supper Gordon overheard Armour say to +Meredith:</p> + +<p>"What a fool that man Jeffries is, getting bunked, and mucking up the +grovel. Damned ass, the man is."</p> + +<p>Meredith agreed.</p> + +<p>Gordon didn't care very much just now about the result of a House match. +He had lost a friend. Armour had lost a cog in a machine.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>As was expected, the Three Cock proved a terribly one-sided game. The +House played pluckily, and for the first half kept the score down to +eight points; but during the last twenty minutes it was quite impossible +to keep out the strong outhouse combination. The side became +demoralised, and went absolutely to pieces. Armour did not give a single +House cap.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span></p> + +<p>After the Three Cock there was a period of four weeks during which the +best athletes trained for the sports, while the rest of the school +played hockey. It was generally considered a sort of holiday after the +stress of house matches. Usually it served its purpose well, but for the +welfare of the House this year it was utterly disastrous. The whole +house was in a highly strung, discontented state; it had nothing to work +for; it had only failures to look back upon. The result was a general +opposition to authority. For a week or so there was a continuous row +going on in the studies. Window-frames were broken; chairs were smashed; +nearly every day one or other member of the House was hauled before the +Chief, for trouble of some sort. But things did not reach a real head +till one night in hall, just before Palm Sunday. There was a lecture for +the Sixth Form; Armour was taking hall; and the only prefect in the +studies was Sandham, who had a headache and had got leave off the +lecture. It did not take long for the good news to spread round the +studies that only "the Cockroach" was about.</p> + +<p>The first sign of trouble was a continual sound of opening doors. Archie +was rushing round, stirring up strife; then there came a sound of many +voices from the entrance of the studies, where were the fire hose and +the gas meter. Suddenly the gas was turned out throughout the whole +building, and pandemonium broke out.</p> + +<p>It would be impossible to describe the tumult made by a whole house that +was inspired by only one idea: the desire to make a noise. The voice of +Sandham rose in a high-pitched wail over and again above the uproar; but +it was pitch dark, he could see none of the offenders. Then all at once +there was peace again, the lights went up, and everyone was quietly +working in his study. It had been admirably worked out. Archie was +"some" organiser.</p> + +<p>For the time being the matter ended; but in a day or two rumours of the +rebellion had reached Clarke. Strong steps had to be taken; and Clarke +was not the man to shirk his duty.</p> + +<p>That evening after prayers he got up and addressed the House.</p> + +<p>"I have been told that two nights ago, when I was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span> absent, there was a +most unseemly uproar in the studies. I am not going into details; you +all know quite well what I mean. I want anyone who assisted in the +disturbance to stand up."</p> + +<p>There was not a move. The idea that the Public School boy's code of +honour forces him to own up at once is entirely erroneous. Boys only own +up when they are bound to be found out; they are not quixotic.</p> + +<p>"Well, then, as no one has spoken, I shall have to take forcible +measures. Everyone above IV. A (for the Lower School did their +preparation in the day-room) will do me a hundred lines every day till +the end of the term. Thank you."</p> + +<p>That night there was loud cursing. Clarke had hardly a supporter, the +other prefects, with the exception of Ferguson, who did not count for +much in the way of things, agreed with Meredith, who said:</p> + +<p>"If the Cockroach can't keep order, how can Clarke expect there should +be absolute quiet? It's the Chief's fault for making such prefects. +Damned silly, I call it."</p> + +<p>The term did not end without a further row. There had been from time +immemorial a system by which corps clothes were common property. +Everyone flung them in the middle of the room on Tuesday after parade; +the matron sorted them out after a fashion; but most people on the next +Tuesday afternoon found themselves with two tunics and no trousers, or +two hats and only one puttee. But no one cared. The person who had two +tunics flung one in the middle of the floor, and then went in search of +some spare trousers. Everyone was clothed somehow in the end. There was +always enough clothes to go round. There was bound to be at least ten +people who had got leave off. It was a convenient socialism.</p> + +<p>But one day FitzMorris turned up on parade in a pair of footer shorts, a +straw hat, and a First Eleven blazer. He was a bit of a nut, and finding +his clothes gone, went on strangely garbed, merely out of curiosity to +see what would happen. A good deal did happen.</p> + +<p>As soon as the corps was dismissed there was a clothes inspection. And +the garments of FitzMorris were found distributed on various bodies. +Clarke again addressed the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span> House. Anyone in future discovered wearing +anyone else's clothes would be severely dealt with. But the House was +not to be outdone. Every single name was erased from every single piece +of clothing: identification was impossible. FitzMorris turned up at the +next parade with one puttee missing, and a tunic that could not meet +across his chest. There was another inspection, but this time it +revealed nothing. Everyone swore that he was wearing his own clothes; +there was nothing to prove that he was not. For the time Clarke was +discomfited.</p> + +<p>FitzMorris set out on his Easter holidays contented with himself and the +world, in the firm belief that he had thoroughly squashed that blighter +Clarke. The head of the House returned to his lonely home on the moors, +very thoughtful—the next term would be his last.</p> + +<p>On the first Sunday of the summer term the Chief preached a sermon the +effect of which Gordon never forgot. He was speaking on the subject of +memory and remorse. "It may be in a few months," he said, "it may be not +for three or four years; but at any rate before very long, you will each +one of you have to stand on the threshold of life, and looking back you +will have to decide whether you have made the best of your Fernhurst +days. For a few moments I ask you to imagine that it is your last day at +school. How will it feel if you have to look back and think only of +shattered hopes, of bright unfulfilled promises? Your last day is bound +to be one of infinite pathos. But to the pathos of human sorrow there is +no need to add the pathos of failure. Oh, I know you are many of you +saying to yourselves: 'There is heaps of time. We'll enjoy ourselves +while we have the chance. It is not for so very long!' No, you are right +there: it is not for so very long; it is only a few hours before you +will have to weigh in the balance the good and the bad you have done +during your Fernhurst days. For some of you it will be in a few weeks; +but for the youngest of you it cannot be more than a very few years. Let +me beg each of you ..." The sermon followed on traditional lines.</p> + +<p>Almost subconsciously Gordon rose with the others to sing: <i>Lord, behold +us with Thy Blessing</i>.... What would it feel like to him if this were +his last Sunday, and he had<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span> to own that his school career were a +failure? He sat quite quiet in his study thinking for a long time +afterwards. He had a study alone this term.</p> + +<p>In the big study that it has ever been the privilege of the head of the +House to own, Clarke also sat very silent. He was nerving himself for a +great struggle.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>To the average individual the summer term is anything but the heaven it +is usually imagined to be. The footer man hates it; the fag has to field +all day on a house game and always goes in last; there is early school; +in some houses there are no hot baths. On the first day the studies are +loud with murmurs of:</p> + +<p>"Oh! this rotten summer term."</p> + +<p>"No spare time and cricket."</p> + +<p>"Awful!"</p> + +<p>For Fernhurst was primarily a footer school. Buller had captained +England and had infused much of his own enthusiasm into his Fifteens; +but the cricket coach, a Somerset professional, lacked "the Bull's" +personality and force, and so for the last few years the doings of the +Eleven had been slight and unmeritable. Even Lovelace major had been +unable to carry a whole side on his shoulders. As soon as he was out the +school ceased to take any interest in the game. Fernhurst batting was of +the stolid, lifeless type, and showed an almost mechanical subservience +to the bowling.</p> + +<p>But for Gordon this term was sheer joy. He loved cricket +passionately—last season at his preparatory school he had headed the +batting averages, and kept wicket with a certain measure of success. As +a bat he was reckless in the extreme; time after time he flung away his +wicket, trying to cut straight balls past point; he was the despair of +anyone who tried to coach him; but he managed to get runs.</p> + +<p>For cricket the School House was divided into A-K and L-Z, according to +which division the names of the boys fell into. Meredith was captain of +the House and of L-Z, while FitzMorris captained A-K. For the first half +of the term there were Junior House Single-Innings matches played in the +American method, and afterwards came the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span> Two-Innings Senior matches on +the knock-out system. A-K Junior this year had quite a decent side. +Foster was not at all a bad slow bowler, and was known to have made +runs. Collins had a useful but unorthodox shot which he applied to every +ball, no matter where it pitched, and which landed the ball either over +shortslip's head or over the long-on boundary. In the nets it was a +hideous performance, but in Junior House matches, where runs are the one +consideration it was extremely useful. A certain Betteridge captained +the side, not because of any personal attainments, but because he was on +the V. A table, and had played in Junior House matches with consistent +results for three years. He went in tenth and sometimes bowled.</p> + +<p>These matches began at once, as Stewart, the captain of the Eleven, was +anxious to spot useful men for the Colts, the under sixteen side, who +wore white caps with a blue dragon worked on them. And so on the second +Saturday of the term A-K drew Buller's in the first round. Before the +game FitzMorris had the whole side in his study to fix the positions in +the field. Some of the side had played little serious cricket before. +Brown, in fact, asked if he might field middle and leg. But at last they +were placed more or less to their own satisfaction, and FitzMorris gave +them a short "jaw" on keenness. Cricket was about the one thing he +really cared for; as a chemistry specialist he spent most of his day +adoze in the laboratory. It was only in the cricket field that he really +woke up.</p> + +<p>With great solemnity Betteridge walked forward to toss with Felsted, the +Buller's captain. A few seconds later he returned to announce that +Buller's had won the toss and put them in. The captain of a Junior House +side is always very fond of putting the other side in first. P.F. Warner +would demand rain overnight, a drying ground, a fast wind and a baking +sun before he would dare do such a thing. But Felsted was made of +sterner stuff.</p> + +<p>Gordon was sent in first with Collins. The idea was to try and knock the +bowlers off their length early. Gordon was very nervous. "The Bull" was +umpire at one end and FitzMorris at the other. Meredith had strolled +over to watch, as L-Z had drawn a bye. Mansell was in the Pavilion +eating an ice. All eyes seemed on him. He had<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span> made Collins take the +first ball. The start was worthy of the best School House traditions. +The first ball was well outside the off-stump; it landed in the National +School grounds that ran alongside of the school field. A howl of +untuneful applause went up. This was the cricket anyone could +appreciate, and this was the cricket that was always seen on a School +House game. Its only drawback was that could not last. Collins made a +few more daring strokes. In the second over he made a superb drive over +shortslip's head to the boundary, and his next shot nearly ended +FitzMorris' somnolent existence. It was great while it lasted, but, like +all great things, it came to an end. He gave the simplest of chances to +cover point, and Buller's rarely missed their catches.</p> + +<p>It was so with nearly all the other members of the side. Three or four +terrific hits and then back under the trees again. Gordon alone seemed +at all comfortable. Either the novelty of the surroundings (it was only +his second innings at Fernhurst), or else the presence of "the Bull," +quieted his customary recklessness. At any rate, he attempted no +leg-glides on the off-stump, and in consequence found little difficulty +in staying in. The boundaries, as was natural on a side ground, were +quite close. Runs came quite easily. During the interval after Foster's +dismissal "the Bull" walked across to him:</p> + +<p>"How old are you, Caruthers?"</p> + +<p>"Thirteen and a half, sir."</p> + +<p>"Oh, good thing to come young. I did myself. Keep that left foot well +across and you'll stop in all day. Well done. Stick to it."</p> + +<p>Gordon was amazingly bucked up. He had always heard "the Bull" was +anti-School House, and here he was encouraging one of his enemies. What +rot fellows did talk. Splendid man "the Bull"! He would tell Mansell so +that night.</p> + +<p>And his opinion was even more strengthened when, after he had been clean +bowled for forty-three without a chance, "the Bull" stopped him on the +way out and said:</p> + +<p>"Well done, Caruthers! Plucky knock. Go and have a tea at the tuck-shop, +and put it down to my account."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span></p> + +<p>The School House innings closed for one hundred and forty-eight. +"Nothing like big enough," said Foster.</p> + +<p>FitzMorris overheard him.</p> + +<p>"Rot! Absolute rot! If you go on the field in that spirit you won't get +a single man out. Go in and win."</p> + +<p>And a very fine fight the House put up. Foster bowled splendidly, +Betteridge was fast asleep at point and brought off a marvellous +one-handed catch, while Gordon stumped Felsted in his third over. After +an hour's play seven men were out for about ninety. The scorers were at +variance, so the exact score could not be discovered. There seemed a +reasonable chance of winning. And to his dying day Gordon will maintain +that they would have won but for that silly ass of an umpire, +FitzMorris. Bridges, the Buller's wicket-keep, was run out by yards; +there was no doubt about it. Everyone saw it. But long hours at the +laboratory had made it very hard for FitzMorris to concentrate his brain +on anything for a long time; he was happily dreaming, let us hope, of +carbon bisulphate, when the roar, "How's that?" woke him up. He had to +give the man "not out"; there was nothing else to do. Twenty minutes +later, with a scandalous scythe-stroke, Bridges made the winning hit.</p> + +<p>"Never mind, your men put up a good fight; the luck was all on our +side," said "the Bull" to Caruthers. "Let's see, it's Sunday to-morrow, +isn't it? Well, on Monday, then, come round to the nets; you want to +practise getting that left foot across. Look here, just get your bat and +I'll toss you up one or two now at the nets!"</p> + +<p>That night "the Bull," talking over the game with his side in the +dormitories, said: "That Caruthers, you know, he's a good man; sort of +fellow we want in the school. Can fight an uphill game. Got grit. He'll +make a lot of runs for the school some day."</p> + +<p>On Monday Gordon saw his name down for nets with the Colts Eleven. Life +was good just then. If only Jeffries were there too....</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VI_CLARKE" id="CHAPTER_VI_CLARKE"></a>CHAPTER VI: CLARKE</h2> + + +<p>"Ferguson, the House is getting jolly slack; something's got to be +done."</p> + +<p>Ferguson sat up in his chair. Clarke had been quiet nearly the whole of +hall; there was obviously something up.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I don't know. Why, only a quarter of an hour ago I came across +Collins and Brown playing stump cricket in the cloisters instead of +studying Thucydides. That's what I call keenness."</p> + +<p>"What did you say to them?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I've forgotten now, but it was something rather brilliant. I know +it was quite lost on them. The Shell can't appreciate epigram. They +ought to read more Wilde. Great book <i>Intentions</i>. Ever read it, Clarke?</p> + +<p>"Oh, confound your Wildes and Shaws; that's just what I object to. Here +are these kids, who ought to be working, simply wasting their time, +thinking of nothing but games. Why, I was up in the House tutor's room +last night and was glancing down the list of form orders. Over half the +House was in double figures."</p> + +<p>"But, my good man, why worry? As long as the lads keep quiet in hall, +and leave us in peace, what does it matter? Peace at any price, that's +what I say; we get so little of it in this world, let us hang on to the +little we have got."</p> + +<p>"But look what a name the House will get."</p> + +<p>"The House will get much the same reputation in the school as England +has in Europe. The English as a whole are pleasure-loving and slack. +They worship games; and, after all, the Englishman is a jolly sight +better fellow than the average German or Frenchman."</p> + +<p>"Yes, of course he's a better fellow, but the rotten thing is that he +might be a much better fellow still. If as a country we had only +ourselves to think about, let us put up a god of sport. But we have not. +We have to compete with the other nations of the world. And late cuts +are precious little use in commerce. This athleticism is ruining<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span> the +country. At any rate, I am not going to have it in the House. In hall +they've got to work; and if their places in form aren't better next week +there's going to be trouble."</p> + +<p>"Yes there'll most certainly be trouble. I can't think why you won't +leave well alone. Lord Henry Wootton used to say——"</p> + +<p>But Clarke was paying no attention.</p> + +<p>That evening he got up after prayers to address the House.</p> + +<p>"Will nothing stop this fellow's love of oratory?" murmured Betteridge.</p> + +<p>"I have to speak to the House on a subject which I consider important," +began Clarke. ("Which probably means that it's most damnable nonsense," +whispered Mansell.) "The position of the members of the House in form +order is not at all creditable. In future every week the senior member +of each form will bring me a list with the places of each School House +member of the form on it. I intend to deal severely with anyone I find +consistently low. I hope, however, that I shall not have need to. This +is the best house socially and athletically; there is no reason why we +should not be the best house at work too."</p> + +<p>"As I prophesied," said Mansell, "most damnable nonsense!"</p> + +<p>On the Second and Third Forms this speech had a considerable effect. For +the first time in his life Cockburn did some work, and at the end of the +week he was able to announce that he had gone up two places—from +seventeenth to fifteenth. There were seventeen in the form.</p> + +<p>The Shell and the Lower Fourth were, of course, too old to consider the +possibility of actually working. It was a preposterous idea. Something +had to be done, however, so Collins bought excellent translations of the +works of Vergil and Xenophon. A vote of thanks proposed by Foster and +seconded by Brown was very properly carried <i>nem. con.</i></p> + +<p>But in V. B and IV. A there were some strong, rebellious spirits who +would not bow down under any tyranny. In Study No. 1, at the end of the +passage on the lower landing, Mansell addressed a meeting of delegates +with great fervour.</p> + +<p>"From time immemorial," he thundered out, "it has<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span> been the privilege of +the members of this House" (he had been reading <i>John Bull</i> the day +before) "to enjoy themselves, to work if they wanted to, to smoke if +they wanted to, to do any damned thing they wanted to. The only thing +they'd got to do was to play like hell in the Easter term, and here's +that —— Clarke trying to make us do work, and, what is more, to work +for Claremont! Gentlemen, let us stand by our traditions." (Mr Bottomley +is useful at times.)</p> + +<p>"That's all very jolly," said the practical Farrow, "but what are you +doing?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, it doesn't matter what we do, as long as we stand up for our +rights. Who ever heard of School House men working?"</p> + +<p>"Now look here, my good fellows," said the ingenious Archie, "it's quite +simple, if you will only do as I tell you. Clarke told us to bring him a +form list; the obvious thing to do is not to bring one at all."</p> + +<p>"But, you silly ass, the fellow who ought to have brought it will get +into the very Hades of a row."</p> + +<p>"Exactly. But who is the responsible person? Clarke said the senior man. +Well, now, in IV. A I am, as far as work is concerned, the senior man in +the form. But Hasel has been in the form a term longer than me, while +Farrow, a most arrant idiot, who has only just reached the form, has +been in the House a year longer than either of us. There is no senior +man. We have all excellent claims to the position, but we waive them in +favour of our inferiors."</p> + +<p>Archie was at once acclaimed as the Napoleon of deceit. That week Clarke +found no form order either from IV. A or V.B. After prayers that evening +he asked to see all those in IV. A and V.B.</p> + +<p>When the conspirators arrived at his study Clarke found that everything +had been elaborately prepared. There was not a single hitch in the +argument. No one was at fault. There had been a general +misunderstanding. They were, of course, very sorry. Clarke listened in +silence.</p> + +<p>"Well, I'm sorry this has happened. But when I say that I want a thing +done, I expect it to be done. None of you are to blame particularly; but +you are all equally guilty. I shall be forced to cane the lot of you."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span></p> + +<p>There was a gasp. They had known Clarke was a strong man, but they had +hardly expected this. Mansell was indignant.</p> + +<p>"But look here, Clarke, you can't beat me, I'm a House cap."</p> + +<p>"Can't I?"</p> + +<p>"It has been a House tradition for years that a House cap can't be +beaten."</p> + +<p>"I am sorry, Mansell, but I have little respect for traditions. Will you +all wait for me in the Sixth Form room?"</p> + +<p>"All right, I shall go to the Chief then."</p> + +<p>"I don't think you will, Mansell."</p> + +<p>The Chief was not very fond of receiving complaints about his House +prefects.</p> + +<p>It was, of course, obvious that Clarke, when he had started on a job +like this, had to carry it through. If he had gone back, his position +would have been impossible; but there could be no doubt that it was a +disastrous campaign as far as the unity of the House was concerned. At +once the House was divided into sides, and nearly the whole of the Sixth +Form was against Clarke.</p> + +<p>"It's not the duty of the head of the House to see how people are +working. That is a House master's job," pointed out FitzMorris. "All +Clarke has got to do is to see that the kids don't rag in hall, and at +other times more or less behave themselves."</p> + +<p>The House was in a state of open rebellion.</p> + +<p>And the worst of it was that none of the other prefects made any attempt +to keep order. Now there was a rule that in hall only three people might +be allowed in one study, the idea being that, if more got in, work would +be bound to change into conversation. One evening, however, a huge crowd +slowly congregated in Mansell's study. Lovelace dropped in to borrow a +book, and stayed. Hunter and Gordon came for a chat, and stayed too. +Archie Fletcher had, as was usual with him, done all his preparation in +half-an-hour, and was in search of something to do. Betteridge heard a +noise outside, walked in, and stopped to give his opinion on the chances +of A-K beating L-Z that week. In a few minutes the conversation got +rather heated. The noise could be heard all down the passage.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span></p> + +<p>Meredith came down to see what was going on.</p> + +<p>"Ah, 'some' party! Well, Mansell, got over your beating yet?"</p> + +<p>There was subdued laughter.</p> + +<p>"I say, Meredith, have A-K the slightest chance of beating us on +Thursday?" Lovelace was captain of L-Z Junior, and had laid rather +heavily on a victory.</p> + +<p>"Of course not, my good man, I'm going to umpire."</p> + +<p>This time the laughter was not subdued.</p> + +<p>In his retreat at the far end of the studies Clarke heard it. Down the +passage he thundered, knocked at the door, and came in.</p> + +<p>"What's the meaning of this? You know quite well that not more than +three are allowed in here at one time. Come to my study, the lot of +you."</p> + +<p>All this time Meredith was being jammed behind the door.</p> + +<p>"When you have quite finished, Clarke," he said.</p> + +<p>"I am sorry, Meredith. Are you responsible for this?"</p> + +<p>"In a way, yes. I was rather afraid that the House was getting slack +about their work. A very bad thing for a house, Clarke! So I took this +opportunity of holding a little viva voce examination. We were studying +'The Sermon on the Mount,' a singularly beautiful and impressive +passage, Clarke. Have you read it?"</p> + +<p>Clarke had read it that day as the lesson in chapel. He had also read it +rather badly, having a cold in his head.</p> + +<p>"You seem to have rather a large class, Meredith," he said +sarcastically.</p> + +<p>"Yes; like our good Lord, I have beaten the by-ways and the hedges, and +I am almost afraid I shall also have to beat Mansell. He has singularly +failed to appreciate the full meaning of that passage about 'humility.'"</p> + +<p>Clarke saw he was beaten, and turned away. As he walked down the passage +he heard a roar of laughter coming from Study No. 1.</p> + +<p>The story was all round the House in half-an-hour, and on his way down +to prayers Clarke heard FitzMorris say before a whole crowd:</p> + +<p>"You are a great fellow, Meredith. That's the way to keep these upstarts +in order."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span></p> + +<p>That night there was merriment in the games study, and Ferguson advised +Clarke to let the matter drop.</p> + +<p>"After all, you know, it's not your business."</p> + +<p>And perhaps Clarke realised that Ferguson was for once right. But he had +to go on; it was very hard, though. He had been quite popular before he +was head of the House. He wished he had left a year ago. For it is hard +to be hated where one loves. And Clarke, well as he loved Fernhurst, +loved the House a hundred times more.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>"Well played, Caruthers; jolly good knock."</p> + +<p>"Well done, Caruthers!"</p> + +<p>Lovelace and Mansell banged excitedly into Gordon's study the evening +after the Colts match <i>v.</i> Murchester. Gordon had made thirty-seven on a +wet wicket, and a defeat by over a hundred runs was no fault of his. He +had gone in first wicket down, and stayed till the close.</p> + +<p>"It was splendid! You ought to be a cert. for your Colts' cap. 'The +Bull' was fearfully bucked."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I don't know; it was not so very much." In his heart of hearts +Gordon was pretty certain he would get his cap; but it would never do to +show what he thought.</p> + +<p>"Oh, rot, my good man," burst out Lovelace. "You didn't give a chance +after the first over. And, by Jove, that was a bit of luck then."</p> + +<p>"Yes, you know, I have a good deal of luck one way and another. I +haven't got in a single row yet; and I am always being missed."</p> + +<p>"And some fellows have no luck at all. Now Foster was batting +beautifully before he was run out; never saw such a scandalous mix-up. +All the other man's fault. He bowled well, too. I shouldn't be a bit +surprised if he didn't get his Colts' cap. I know 'the Bull' likes him."</p> + +<p>"Do you think so?" said Gordon. He did not know why, but he rather hoped +Foster would not get his cap. He himself would be captain of A-K Junior +next year. It would be better if he was obviously senior to Foster. He +was going to be the match-winning factor; and, so far as seniority goes, +there is not much to choose between men who get their colours on the +same day.</p> + +<p>"Of course he won't if you don't," Mansell said, "but<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span> I think he's +worth it. I say, let's have a feed to-night. There's just time before +hall to order some stuff. Lovelace, rush off to the tuck-shop, and put +it down to my account."</p> + +<p>Gordon found it impossible to work during hall; he fidgeted nervously. +He felt as he had felt on the last day of his first term before +prize-giving. He knew if he was going to get his Colts' cap he would get +it early that night. Stewart always gave colours during first hall. He +sat and waited nervously; work became quite impossible. He looked +through <i>The Daily Telegraph</i> and flung it aside; then picked up <i>The +London Mail</i>; that was rather more in his line.</p> + +<p>There was a sound of talking down the passage. He heard Clarke's voice +saying:</p> + +<p>"Yes, down there, third study down, No. 16."</p> + +<p>A second later there was a knock on the door. He managed to gulp out: +"Come in."</p> + +<p>"Gratters on your Colts' cap, Caruthers. Well played!"</p> + +<p>Stewart shook hands with him. The next minute Gordon heard him walking +to the school notice-board in the cloister. He was pinning up the +notice.</p> + +<p>Gordon sat quite still; his happiness was too great....</p> + +<p>No one is allowed to walk about in the studies before eight dining-hall. +For a quarter of an hour there was silence in the passage.</p> + +<p>Eight struck; there was an opening of doors.</p> + +<p>A few minutes later Hunter dashed in.</p> + +<p>"Well done, Caruthers. Hooray!"</p> + +<p>"Well done, Caruthers!" "Good old A-K!" "I am so glad!" Everyone seemed +pleased.</p> + +<p>Just before prayers, as he sat at the top of the day-room table, +FitzMorris came over to him. "Jolly good, Caruthers. Well done." His cup +was full.</p> + +<p>Foster did not get his cap....</p> + +<p>The next day as Gordon was walking across the courts in break "the Bull" +came up to him.</p> + +<p>"Gratters, Caruthers; wasn't your fault you lost. I like a man who can +fight uphill. You have got the grit—well done, lad."</p> + +<p>"And yet," said Gordon to Mansell, as they passed under<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span> the school +gate, "you say that man cares only for his house. Why, he only loves his +house because it's a part of Fernhurst; and Fernhurst is the passion of +his life!"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VII_WHEN_ONE_IS_IN_ROME" id="CHAPTER_VII_WHEN_ONE_IS_IN_ROME"></a>CHAPTER VII: WHEN ONE IS IN ROME ...</h2> + + +<p>Generalisations are always apt to be misleading, but there was surely no +truer one ever spoken than the old proverb: "When one is in Rome, one +does as Rome does!" Parsons and godmothers will, of course, protest +that, if you found yourselves among a crowd of robbers and drunkards, +you would not copy <i>them</i>! And yet it is precisely what the average +individual would do. When a boy leaves his preparatory school he has a +conscience; he would not tell lies; he would be scrupulously honest in +form; he would not borrow things he never meant to return; he would say +nothing he would be ashamed of his mother or sister overhearing.</p> + +<p>But before this same innocent has been at school two terms he has learnt +that everything except money is public property. The name in a book or +on a hockey stick means nothing. Someone once said to Collins:</p> + +<p>"I say, I want to write here, are those your books?"</p> + +<p>"No, they are the books I use," was the laconic answer.</p> + +<p>The code of a Public School boy's honour is very elastic. Masters are +regarded as common enemies; and it is never necessary to tell them the +truth. Expediency is the golden rule in all relations with the common +room. And after a very few weeks even Congreve would have had to own +that the timid new boy could spin quite as broad a yarn as he. The +parents do not realise this. It is just as well. It is a stage in the +development of youth. Everyone must pass through it. Yet sometimes it +leads to quite a lot of misunderstanding.</p> + +<p>There were one or two incidents during this summer term that stood out +very clearly in Gordon's memory as proofs of the way masters may fail to +realise the boy's point of view.</p> + +<p>One morning just after breakfast Gordon discovered that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span> he had done the +wrong maths for Jenks. He rushed in search of Fletcher.</p> + +<p>"I say, Archie, look here, be a sport. I have done the wrong stuff for +that ass Jenks. Let's have a look at yours."</p> + +<p>In ten minutes four tremendous howlers in as many sums had been +reproduced on Gordon's paper. The work was collected that morning, and +nothing more was heard of it till the next day. Gordon thought himself +quite safe and had ceased to take any interest in the matter. The form +was working out some riders more or less quietly. Suddenly Jenks's tired +voice murmured:</p> + +<p>"Caruthers, did you copy your algebra off Fletcher?"</p> + +<p>"No, sir."</p> + +<p>Jenks was rather fond of asking such leading questions.</p> + +<p>Caruthers had got tired of it. The man was a fool; he must know by this +time that he was bound to get the same answer.</p> + +<p>"Fletcher, did you copy off Caruthers?"</p> + +<p>"No, sir."</p> + +<p>"Caruthers, did you see Fletcher's paper?"</p> + +<p>"No, sir."</p> + +<p>How insistent the ass was getting.</p> + +<p>"Fletcher, did you see Caruther's paper?"</p> + +<p>"No, sir."</p> + +<p>"Oh, you silly fellows. Then I shall have to put both your papers before +the Headmaster. I'm afraid you will both be expelled."</p> + +<p>Jenks had a strange notion of the offences that merited expulsion. Every +time he reported a boy he expected to see him marching sadly to the +station to catch the afternoon train. Once Collins had stuck a pin into +a wonderful mercury apparatus and entirely ruined it.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Collins, you stupid boy. I shall have to report you to the +Headmaster, and you know what that means. We sha'n't see you here any +more."</p> + +<p>Gordon had, of course, not the slightest fear of getting "bunked." But +still it was a nuisance. He would have to be more careful next time.</p> + +<p>"Now look here, you two," Jenks went on, after a bit. "If either of you +cares to own up, I won't report you at all. I will deal with you +myself."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span></p> + +<p>Slowly Gordon rose. It was obviously an occasion where it paid to own +up.</p> + +<p>"I did, sir."</p> + +<p>"Oh I thought as much. You see yours was in pencil, and if possible a +little worse than Fletcher's. Sit down."</p> + +<p>Betteridge afterwards said that to watch Jenks rushing across the courts +to see the Chief during the minute interval between the exit of one +class and the arrival of the next was better than any pantomime. He was +very small; he had a large white moustache; his gown was too long; it +blew out like sails in the wind. Besides, it was the first time Jenks +had ever been seen to run.</p> + +<p>In due time Caruthers and Fletcher appeared before the Chief. The result +was only a long "jaw" and a bad report. The Chief could not perhaps be +expected to see that a lie was any the less a lie because it was told to +a master. But in the delinquents any feeling of penitence there might +have been was entirely obscured by an utter scorn of Jenks.</p> + +<p>"After all, the man did say he wouldn't report us," said Fletcher.</p> + +<p>"Oh, it's all you can expect from these 'stinks men.' They have no sense +of honour."</p> + +<p>It did not occur to Gordon that in this instance his own sense of honour +had not been tremendously in evidence. The Public School system had set +its mark on him.</p> + +<p>The other incident was the great clothes row. All rows spring from the +most futile sources. This one began with the sickness of one +Evans-Smith, who was suddenly taken ill in form. It was a hot day, and +he fainted. Now Evans-Smith was an absolute nonentity. It was only his +second term, but he had already learnt that anything that was in the +changing-room was common property; and so when the matron took off his +shoes before putting him to bed she saw Rudd's name inside. The matter +was reported to the Chief. The Chief made a tour of the changing-room +during afternoon school, and his eyes were opened. For instance, it was +quite obvious that Turner had changed. His school suit was hung on his +peg, his blazer was presumably on him, and yet his cricket trousers were +lying on the floor, with Fischer's house scarf sticking out of the +pocket. There were many other like discoveries.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span></p> + +<p>In hall that night the Chief asked Turner whose trousers he was wearing +that afternoon. The wretched youth had not the slightest idea; all he +knew was that they were not his own. He thought they might be +Bradford's.</p> + +<p>After prayers the Chief addressed the House on the subject. He pointed +out how carelessness in little things led to carelessness in greater, +and how dangerous it was to get into a habit of taking other people's +things without thinking. He also said that it was most unhealthy to wear +someone else's clothes. He was, of course, quite right; but the House +could not see it, for the simple reason that it did not want to see it. +It would be an awful nuisance to have to look after one's own things. +Besides, probably the man next to you had a much newer sweater. The +House intended to go on as before. And indeed it did.</p> + +<p>One day Ferguson thought he wanted some exercise. It was a half-holiday, +and Clarke was quite ready for a game of tennis. Ferguson went down to +the changing-room. The first thing he saw was that his tennis shoes were +gone. He thought it quite impossible that anyone should dare to bag his +things. Fuming with wrath, he banged into the matron's room.</p> + +<p>"I say, Matron, look here; my tennis shoes are gone."</p> + +<p>And then, suddenly, he saw the Chief standing at the other end of the +room, glancing down the dormitory list.</p> + +<p>"Oh, really, Ferguson, I must see about this. Matron, do you know +anything about Ferguson's shoes?"</p> + +<p>"No, sir! Never touch the boys' shoes. George is the only person who +looks after them; and he only cleans <i>black</i> boots and shoes."</p> + +<p>"Oh, well, then, Ferguson, you'd better come with me, and we will make a +search for them."</p> + +<p>Ferguson cursed inwardly. This would mean at least half-an-hour wasted; +and he could so easily have found another pair. The School House +changing-room is a noble affair. It is about seventy feet long and sixty +wide. All round it run small partitioned-off benches; in the middle are +stands for corps clothes. At one end there is what was once a piano. +Laboriously the Chief and Ferguson hunted round the room. In the far +corner there was an airing cupboard. It was a great sight to see +Ferguson climb up<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span> on the top of this. He was not a gymnast, and he took +some time doing it. Hunter sat changing at one end of the room, +thoroughly enjoying himself.</p> + +<p>Down the passage a loud, tuneless voice began to sing <i>Who were You with +Last Night?</i> and Mansell rolled in. He saw the Chief, and stopped +suddenly, going over to Hunter.</p> + +<p>"What does the old idiot want?"</p> + +<p>"He's hunting for Ferguson's tennis shoes."</p> + +<p>"Good Lord! and I've got them on."</p> + +<p>"Well, get them off, then, quick."</p> + +<p>In a second, while the Chief was looking the other way, Mansell stole +across to the middle of the room and laid them on the top of the +hot-water pipes.</p> + +<p>About two minutes later Ferguson burst out:</p> + +<p>"Look, sir, here they are!"</p> + +<p>"But, my dear Ferguson, I'm sure we must have looked there."</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir. I thought we had."</p> + +<p>"Er, 't any rate there are your shoes, Ferguson, and I hope you'll have +a good game!" The Chief went out, rather annoyed at having wasted so +much time. At tea that evening there was mirth at the V. B table.</p> + +<p>On this occasion trouble was avoided. But one day Willing, a new boy, +lost his corps hat. He was certain it had been there before lunch. The +Corps Parade was already falling in. Seeing no other hat to fit him, he +very idiotically went on without a hat at all. It would have been far +better to have cut parade altogether. Clarke asked him where his hat +was, but his ideas on the subject were very nebulous. The whole corps +was kept waiting while School House hats were examined. Ten people had +got hats other than their own.</p> + +<p>They each got a Georgic....</p> + +<p>The pent-up fury of the House now broke loose. Everyone swore he would +murder Clarke on the last day, bag his clothes, and hold him in a cold +bath for half-an-hour. If half of the things that were going to be done +on the last day ever happened, how very few heads of houses would live +to tell the tale! It is so easy to talk, so very hard to do anything; a +head of the House is absolutely supreme. If he is at all sensitive, it +is possible to make his life utterly<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</a></span> wretched by a silent demonstration +of hatred, but if he is at all a man, threats can never mature, and +Clarke was a man. During his last days at Fernhurst he was supremely +miserable. The House was split up into factions: he himself had no one +to talk to except Ferguson and Sandham. But he carried on the grim joke +to its completion. In the last week he beat four boys for being low in +form, and gave a whole dormitory a hundred lines daily till the end of +the term for talking after lights out. The Chief was sorry to lose him; +Ferguson would make a very weak head. The future was not too bright.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>"I say, you know, I think I had better get a 'budge' this term." Gordon +announced this fact as the Lower Fifth were pretending to prepare for +the exam. Mansell protested:</p> + +<p>"Now don't be a damned ass, my good man; you don't know when you are +well off. You stop with old Methuselah a bit longer. He is a most +damnable ass, but his form is a glorious slack."</p> + +<p>"Oh, well, I don't know. I think the Sixth is slacker still. I am going +to specialise in something when I get there. I am not quite sure what. +But it's going to mean a lot of study hours."</p> + +<p>At Fernhurst there was a great scheme by which specialists always worked +in their studies. To specialise was the dream of every School House boy. +It is so charming to watch, from the warm repose of your own study, +black figures rushing across the rain-swept courts on the way to their +class-rooms (it always rained at Fernhurst), and Gordon was essentially +a hedonist.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I suppose the higher you go up the less work you do," said +Mansell. "When I was with old 'Bogus' I used to prepare my lessons +sometimes, and, what's more, with a dictionary."</p> + +<p>"Oh, <i>Quantum mutatus ab illo</i>," sighed Gordon.</p> + +<p>"Yes, you know," said Betteridge, "the higher you get up the school the +less you need worry about what you do. The prefect is supposed to be the +model of what a Public School boy should be. And yet he is about the +fastest fellow in the school. If I got caught in Davenham's study<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</a></span> by +the Chief, even if I said I was only borrowing a pencil, I should get in +the deuce of a row. But Meredith can sit there all hall and say he's +making inquiries about a boxing competition. He's trusted. The lower +forms aren't allowed to prepare in their studies. They might use a crib, +so they have to work in the day-room or big school. The Fifth is trusted +to work, so it can spend school hours in its studies. Of course the +Third works the whole time, while the Fifth just writes the translation +between the lines and then plays barge cricket. It's no use trusting a +Public School boy. Put faith in him and he'll take advantage of it; and +yet there are still some who say the Public School system is +satisfactory!"</p> + +<p>"And I am one of them," said Mansell. "I've had a damned good term so +far, and next term, when I get that big study, I shall have a still +finer time. School may be bad as a moral training, but I live to enjoy +myself. Here's to the Public School system. Long may it live!"</p> + +<p>Betteridge smiled rather sadly; he was not an athlete.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>The summer exams turned out a lamentably dull affair. Claremont +superintended the Shell and the Lower Fifth. Anyone who wished to crib +could have done so easily. But hardly anyone took the trouble. Mansell +swore he would stay where he was. Ruddock, Johnstone and the other old +stagers were all of the same opinion. Gordon had determined to get high +enough for a promotion, but no higher; tenth would do; and it was easy +to get up there. The small boys in the front bench were all Balliol +scholars in embryo; it would not pay them to crib. The great law of +expediency overhung all proceedings. The result was that they were as +lifeless and dull as most other virtuous things.</p> + +<p>There were, however, a few bright incidents, the foremost of which was +the Divinity exam. Claremont, we know, was a parson and a lover of +poetry, and that term the form had been reading Judges and Samuel and +Kings. As the Divinity exam. came first, it would be wise to put the old +man in a good temper. Ruddock introduced Mr ffoakes Jackson's work on +the Old Testament disguised as a writing-pad.</p> + +<p>There is nothing easier than to write down correct<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</a></span> answers to one-word +questions, if you have the answer-book in front of you. Ruddock's +writing-pad passed slowly round the back and centre benches. Next day +the result was announced.</p> + +<p>"Well," said Claremont, "I must own that I was agreeably surprised by +the results of the Divinity papers. The lowest mark was seventy-nine out +of a hundred, and that was Kennedy." (Kennedy was invariably top in the +week's order.) "Ruddock did a really remarkable paper, and scored a +hundred out of a hundred. Johnstone and Caruthers both got ninety-nine, +and several others were in the nineties. In fact, the only ones in the +eighties were those who usually excel. I have taken the form now for +over thirty years, and this is quite unparalleled. I shall ask the +Headmaster if a special prize cannot be given to Johnstone. He certainly +deserves one."</p> + +<p>But the Chief was very wise. As he glanced down the mark list he +realised that Johnstone's marks could hardly be due to honest work. But +the Chief was also very tactful. He thought, on the whole, that in case +of such general merit it would be invidious to single any individual out +for special distinction, and, of course, he could not give prizes to +everyone. He would, however, most certainly mention the fact at +prize-giving. When he did, the applause was strangely mingled with +laughter.</p> + +<p>But this was only one incident in many dull hours. As a whole, the +week's exam. failed to provide much to look back on afterwards with any +satisfaction. Even the Chemistry exam. fell flat. FitzMorris picked up a +copy of the paper on Jenks's desk and took a copy of it. The marks here +also were above the average.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>It is inevitable that the end of the summer term should be overhung with +an atmosphere of sadness. When the new September term opens there are +many faces that will be missing; the giants of yester-year will have +departed; another generation will have taken their places. But for all +that these last days are not without their own particular glory. Rome +must have been very wonderful during the last week of Sulla's +consulship. And in the passing of Meredith there was something +essentially splendid; for it<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span> happens so seldom in life that the +culminating point of our success coincides with the finish of anything. +We are continually being mocked by the horror of the second best. We do +not know where to stop; we cling too long to our laurels; and when the +end finally comes they have begun to wither. Death is an anti-climax. +The heart that once loved, and was as grass before the winds of passion, +has grown cold amid a world of commonplace. But at school there is no +dragging out of triumphs. All too soon the six short years fly past, and +we stand on the threshold of life in the very flush of our pride. "Just +once in a while we may finish in style." It is not often; the roses +fade.</p> + +<p>The final of the Senior House matches was drawing to a close on the last +Friday of the term. Buller's were beating the School House L-Z easily. +There had never been any doubt about the result. L-Z was entirely a +one-man side, that Meredith had managed to carry it on his shoulders +through the two first rounds.</p> + +<p>The House had only two wickets in hand, and still wanted over eighty +runs to avoid an innings' defeat. But Meredith was still in. It had been +a great innings. He had gone in first with Mansell, and watched wicket +after wicket fall, while he had gone on playing the same brilliant game. +Every stroke was the signal of a roar from the pavilion. The whole House +was looking on. It was a fitting end to a dazzling career. It was like +his life, reckless and magnificent. At last he mis-hit a half-volley and +was caught in the deep for seventy-two.</p> + +<p>As he left the wicket the whole House surged forward in front of the +pavilion, and formed up in two lines, leaving a gangway. Amid tremendous +applause Meredith ran between them. The cheering was deafening.</p> + +<p>After prayers that night the Chief said a few words about the match.</p> + +<p>"I am sorry we did not win; but, then, I don't think many of us dared to +hope for that. At any rate, we were not disgraced, and I wish to take +the opportunity of congratulating Meredith, not only on his superb +innings this afternoon, but also on his keen and energetic captaincy +throughout the term."</p> + +<p>This was the signal for another demonstration. Everyone<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</a></span> beat with their +fists upon their table. It was a great scene.</p> + +<p>The giants of our youth always appear to us much greater than those of +any successive era. In future years Gordon was to see other captains of +football, other captains of cricket, but with the exception of the +tremendous Lovelace, Meredith towered above them all. He was at that +moment the very great god of Gordon's soul. He seemed to be all that +Gordon wished to be, brilliant and successful. Surely the fates had +showered on him all their gifts.</p> + +<p>On the last Monday there was a huge feed in the games study. Over twenty +people were crowded in. Armour was there, Mansell, Gordon, Simonds, +Foster, Ferguson, everyone except Clarke. There was no one who was not +sorry to lose Meredith; his achievements so dazzled them that they could +see nothing beyond them. They were proud to have such a man in the +house. It was all sheer happiness.</p> + +<p>Somehow on the last day the following notice appeared on the House +board:—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">In Memoriam<br /></span> +<span class="i0">MALEVUS SCHOLARUM<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In hadibus requiescat<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quod non sine ignominia militavit<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>No one knew who was responsible for it. Clarke looked at it for a second +and turned away with a face that expressed no emotion.</p> + +<p>By the Sixth Form green Simonds was shouting across to Meredith:</p> + +<p>"Best of luck, old fellow, and mind you come down for the House +supper...."</p> + +<p>On the way down to the station Archie Fletcher burst out:</p> + +<p>"Well, thank God, that swine Clarke's gone. He absolutely mucked up the +House." Gordon agreed.</p> + +<p>"If we had a few more men like Meredith now!" Rather a change had come +over the boy who a year before had been shocked at the swearing in the +bathroom. "When one is in Rome...."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="BOOK_II_THE_TANGLED_SKEIN" id="BOOK_II_THE_TANGLED_SKEIN"></a>BOOK II: THE TANGLED SKEIN</h2> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Et je m'en vais<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Au vent mauvais<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Qui m'emporte<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Deça delà<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pareil à la<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Feuille morte."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Paul Verlaine.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_I_QUANTUM_MUTATUS" id="CHAPTER_I_QUANTUM_MUTATUS"></a>CHAPTER I: QUANTUM MUTATUS</h2> + + +<p>If Gordon were given the opportunity of living any single year over +again, exactly as he had lived it before, he would in all probability +have chosen his second year at Fernhurst. He had then put safely out of +sight behind him the doubts and anxieties of the junior; he had not yet +reached any of the responsibilities of the senior. It was essentially a +time of light-hearted laughter, of "rags," of careless happiness. Every +day dawned without a trace of trouble imminent; every night closed with +a feed in Mansell's big study, while the gramophone strummed out +rag-time choruses. And yet these three terms were very critical ones in +the development of Gordon's character. Sooner or later everyone must +pass through the middle stage Keats speaks of, where "the way of life is +uncertain, and the soul is in a ferment." Most boys have at their +preparatory schools been so carefully looked after that they have never +learnt to think for themselves. They take everything as a matter of +course. They believe implicitly what their masters tell them about what +is right and wrong. Life is divided up into so many rules. But when the +boy reaches his Public School he finds himself in a world where actions +are regulated not by conscience, but by caprice. Boys do what they know +is wrong; then invent a theory to prove it is right; and finally +persuade themselves that black is white. It is pure chance what the +Public School system will make of a boy. During the years of his +apprenticeship, so to speak, he merely sits quiet, listening and +learning; then<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</a></span> comes the middle period, the period in which he is +gradually changing into manhood. In it all his former experiences are +jumbled hopelessly together, his life is in itself a paradox. He does +things without thinking. There is no consistency in his actions. Then +finally the threads are unravelled, and out of the disorder of +conflicting ideas and emotions the tapestry is woven on the wonderful +loom of youth.</p> + +<p>The average person comes through all right. He is selfish, easy-going, +pleasure-loving, absolutely without a conscience, for the simple reason +that he never thinks. But he is a jolly good companion; and the +Freemasonry of a Public School is amazing. No man who has been through a +good school can be an outsider. He may hang round the Empire bar, he may +cheat at business; but you can be certain of one thing, he will never +let you down. Very few Public School men ever do a mean thing to their +friends. And for a system that produces such a spirit there is something +to be said after all.</p> + +<p>But for the boy with a personality school is very dangerous. Being +powerful, he can do nothing by halves; his actions influence not only +himself, but many others. On his surroundings during the time of +transition from boyhood to manhood depend to a great extent the +influence that man will work in the world. He will do whatever he does +on a large scale, and people are bound to look at him. He may stand at +the head of the procession of progress; he may dash himself to pieces +fighting for a worthless cause; and by the splendour of his contest draw +many to him. More likely he will be like Byron, a wonderful, +irresponsible creature, who at one time plumbed the depths, and at +another swept the heavens—a creature irresistibly attractive, because +he is irresistibly human. Gordon was a personality. His preparatory +school master said of him once: "He will be a great failure or a great +success, perhaps both," and it was the truest thing ever said of him. At +present the future was very uncertain. During his first year he had been +imbibing knowledge from his contemporaries; he had been a spectator; now +the time had come for him to take his part in the drama of Fernhurst +life. All ignorant he went his way; careless, arrogant and proud.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</a></span></p> + +<p>It must be owned that during this year Gordon was rather an +objectionable person. He was very much above himself. For five years he +had been tightly held in check, and when freedom at last came he did not +quite know how to use it. He was boisterous and noisy; always in the +middle of everything. If ever there was a row in the studies, it would +be a sure assumption that Caruthers was mixed up in it. Everything +combined to give him a slack time.</p> + +<p>Ferguson was head of the House. But he took only a casual interest in +its welfare.</p> + +<p>"My dear Betteridge," he used to say, "if you were aware of the large +issues of art and life, you would see that it would be a mere waste of +time worrying about such a little thing as discipline in a house. You +should widen your intellectual horizon. Read Verlaine and Baudelaire and +then see life as it is."</p> + +<p>Ferguson was a poet; twice a term the school magazine was enriched with +a poem from his pen. His last effort was called <i>Languor</i>, and opened +with the line:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"In amber dreams of amorous despair."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>"The Bull" had asked someone in his house what the thing meant. To +Ferguson that seemed a high compliment. To be incoherent was a great +gift. Swinburne often meant very little, and in his heart of hearts +Ferguson thought <i>Languor</i> was, on the whole, more melodious than +<i>Dolores</i>. But that was, of course, purely a matter of opinion. At any +rate, it was a fine composition; and a poet must not dabble in the +common intrigues of little minds.</p> + +<p>He let the House go its own sweet way; and the House was grateful, and +gave Ferguson the reputation of being rather a sport. There were no more +weekly orders; no more cleaning of corps clothes. There was at last +peace in Jerusalem, and plenteousness within her palaces.</p> + +<p>Simonds was captain of the House. He was working hard for a History +scholarship, and could not spend much time in looking after House games. +There would be tons of time in the Easter term to train on House sides. +So he, too, let things slide, and the House lived a happy life.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</a></span> Those +who wanted to play footer, played; those who wanted to work, worked; +those who wished to do nothing, did nothing. A cheerful philosophy. For +a week it worked quite well.</p> + +<p>Gordon was lucky enough to find himself in the position of not only not +wanting to work, but also not having to. He had got his promotion into +V. A, and found it a land of milk and honey. Macdonald, his form master, +was one of the most splendid men Fernhurst has ever owned on its staff. +For over forty years he had sat in exactly the same chair, and watched +generation after generation pass, without appearing the least bit older. +He grew a little stout, perhaps. But his heart was the same. It took a +lot to trouble him. He realised that the world was too full of sceptics +and cynics, and swore that he would not number himself among them. He +was now the senior assistant master and the best scholar on the staff.</p> + +<p>"You know, these young men aren't what we were," he used to say to his +form; "not one of them can write a decent copy of Latin verses. All +these Cambridge men are useless—useless!" In his form it was +unnecessary to work very hard; but in it the average boy learnt more +than he learnt anywhere else. For Macdonald was essentially a scholar; +he did not merely mug up notes by German commentators an hour before the +lesson. For him the classics lived; and he made his form realise this. +To do Aristophanes with him was far better than any music hall. Horace +he hated. One day when they were doing <i>Donec gratus eram tibi</i>, he +burst out with wrath:</p> + +<p>"Horrible little cad he was! Can't you see him? Small man, blue nose +with too much drinking. Bibulous little beast. If I had been Lydia I +would have smacked his face and told him to go to Chloë. I'd have had +done with him. Beastly little cad!"</p> + +<p>But it was in history that he was at his best. It was a noble sight to +see him imitate the weak-kneed, slobbering James I; and he had the +private scandals of Henry VIII at his finger-tips. For all commentators +he had a profound contempt. One day he seized Farrar's edition of <i>St +Luke</i>, and holding it at arm's-length between his finger and thumb, +shook it before the form.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Filth," he cried, "filth and garbage; take it away and put it down the +water-closet." He had a genius for spontaneous comments. Kennedy was +very nervous; and whenever he said his rep. he used to hold the seat of +his trousers.</p> + +<p>"Man, man!" Macdonald shouted out, "you won't be able to draw any +inspiration from your stern."</p> + +<p>His form would be in a continuous roar of laughter all day long; and +when particularly pleased it always rubbed its feet on the floor, a +strange custom that had lasted many years. Claremont's form-room was +situated just above him, and he could often hardly hear himself speak. +He used to complain bitterly.</p> + +<p>"How I wish my jovial colleague down below would keep his form a little +more in order."</p> + +<p>But Macdonald got his revenge one day when Claremont was reciting +Macbeth's final speech fortissimo to his form.</p> + +<p>"Hush!" said Macdonald. "We must listen to this." Suddenly he chuckled +to himself: "And do you think he really imagines he is doing any good to +his form by giving that nigger minstrel entertainment up there?"</p> + +<p>The roar of laughter that followed quite spoilt the effect of the +recitation. Work became quite impossible in V.B.</p> + +<p>It was about this time that the House began to interest itself in the +welfare of Rudd. Rudd was the senior scholar of the year before, and he +looked like it. He was fairly tall and very thin. His legs bore little +relation to the rest of his body. They fell into place. He was of a +dusky countenance, partly because he was of Byzantine origin, partly +because he never shaved, chiefly because he did not wash. His clothes +always looked as if they had been rolled up into a bundle and used for +dormitory football. Perhaps they had. Rudd was not really a bad fellow. +He was by way of being a wit. One day the Chief had set the form a +three-hour Divinity paper, consisting of four longish questions. One +was: "Do you consider that the teaching of Socrates was in some respects +more truly Christian than that of St Paul?" Rudd showed up a whole sheet +with one word on it: "Yes." Next day his Sixth Form privileges were +taken away. But the House took little notice of his academic audacities. +Rudd did not wash;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</a></span> he was an insanitary nuisance; moreover, he did not +play footer.</p> + +<p>"That man Rudd is a disgrace to the House," Archie announced one evening +after tea; "he's useless to the House; he slacks at rugger and is +unclean. Let's ship his study." There was a buzz of assent. There was a +good deal of rowdyism going on in the House just then; and at times it +would have been hard to draw the exact borderline between ragging and +bullying. A solemn procession moved to Study No. 14. Rudd was working.</p> + +<p>"Hullo, Byzantium," said Mansell. "How goes it?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, get out, you; I want to work!"</p> + +<p>"Gentlemen, Mr Rudd wishes to work," Betteridge announced. "The question +is, shall he be allowed to? I say 'No!'" He suddenly jerked away the +chair Rudd was sitting on: the owner of the study collapsed on the +floor.</p> + +<p>Archie at once loosed a tremendous kick at his back.</p> + +<p>"Get up, you dirty swine! Haven't you any manners? Stand up when you are +talking to gentlemen."</p> + +<p>Rudd had a short temper; he let out and caught Mansell on the chin. It +is no fun ragging a man who doesn't lose his temper. But, as far as +Mansell was concerned, proceedings were less cordial after this. He +leapt on Rudd, bore him to the ground, and sat on his head. Foul +language was audible from the bottom of the floor. Rudd had not studied +Euripides for nothing. Lovelace picked up a hockey stick. "This, +gentlemen," he began, "is a hockey stick, useful as an implement of +offence if the prisoner gets above himself, and also useful as a means +of destroying worthless property. I ask you, gentlemen, it is right +that, while we should have only three chairs among two people, Rudd +should have two all to himself? Gentlemen, I propose to destroy that +chair."</p> + +<p>In a few minutes the chair was in fragments. A crowd began to collect.</p> + +<p>"I say, you men," shouted Gordon, "the refuse heap is just opposite; +let's transfer all the waste paper of the last ten years and bury the +offender."</p> + +<p>Just across the passage was a long, blind-alley effect running under the +stairs, which was used as a store for waste paper. It was cleaned out +about once every generation.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</a></span> In a few minutes waste-paper baskets had +been "bagged" from adjoining studies, and No. 14 was about a foot deep +in paper.</p> + +<p>"That table is taking up too much room, Lovelace," Bradford bawled out; +"smash it up."</p> + +<p>The table went to join the chair in the Elysian Fields. Rudd was now +almost entirely immersed in paper. The noise was becoming excessive. +Oaths floated down the passage.</p> + +<p>At last Ferguson moved. In a blasé way he strolled down the passage. For +a minute he was an amused spectator, then he said languidly: "Suppose we +consider the meeting adjourned. I think it's nearly half-time." +Gradually the crowd began to clear; Rudd rose out of the paper like +Venus out of the water. A roar of laughter broke out.</p> + +<p>"Well, Rudd, I sincerely hope you are insured," murmured Ferguson.</p> + +<p>What Rudd said is unprintable. In his bill at the end of the term his +father found there was a charge of ten shillings for damaged property in +Study No. 14. Rudd got less pocket-money the next term.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>"I say, you fellows, have you heard the latest? 'The Bull' has kicked me +out of the Colts."</p> + +<p>Lovelace came into the changing-room, fuming with rage. There had been a +Colts' trial that afternoon. Buller had cursed furiously and finally +booted Lovelace off the field, with some murmured remarks about "typical +School House slackness."</p> + +<p>"It's damned rot," said Bradford. "Because Simonds has made rather an +ass of himself in the last two matches, Bull thinks the whole House is +slack. He gave Turner six to-day just because he hadn't looked up one +word. I hope he doesn't intend to judge the whole House by Simonds."</p> + +<p>The House was getting fed up with Simonds. It was all very well working +in moderation for scholarships, but when it came to allowing games to +suffer, things were getting serious. Private inclination cannot stand in +the way of the real business of life. And no one would hesitate to own +that he had come to Fernhurst mainly to play footer.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</a></span></p> + +<p>"But, you know, I don't think 'the Bull's' that sort," Gordon protested; +"he may lose his temper and all that, but I think he's fair."</p> + +<p>"Do you?" said Hunter drily.</p> + +<p>There was a laugh. As a whole, the House was certain that "the Bull" was +against them.</p> + +<p>In a week's time Lovelace was back again in the Colts, and Gordon was +telling his friends what fools they were not to trust "the Bull."</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Gordon was confirmed this term. He was rather young; but it was +obviously the thing to do, and, as Mansell said: "It's best to take the +oath when you are more or less 'pi,' and there is still some chance of +remaining so. You can't tell what you will be like in a year or so."</p> + +<p>As is the case with most boys, Confirmation had very little effect on +Gordon. He was not an atheist; he accepted Christianity in much the same +way that he accepted the Conservative party. All the best people +believed in it, so it was bound to be all right; but at the same time it +had not the slightest influence over his actions. If he had any religion +at this time it was House football; but for the most part, he lived +merely to enjoy himself, and his pleasures were, on the whole, +innocuous. They very rarely went much beyond ragging Rudd.</p> + +<p>"Do you think," said Gordon, the evening after his first confirmation +address, "that the masters really believe confirmation has any effect on +us? Because you know it doesn't."</p> + +<p>"I don't think it matters very much what masters think," said Hunter; +"most of them here have got into a groove. They believe the things they +ought to believe; they are all copies of the same type. They've clean +forgotten what it was like at school. Hardly any of them really know +boys. They go on happily believing them 'perhaps a little excitable, but +on the whole, perfectly straight and honest.' Then a row comes. They are +horrified. They don't realise all of us are the same. They've made +themselves believe what they want to believe."</p> + +<p>"Yes, and when they are told the truth, they won't believe it," said +Betteridge. "You know, I was reading<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</a></span> an article in some paper the other +day, by an assistant master at Winchborough, called Ferrers. He was +cursing the whole system. I showed it to Claremont, just for a rag; told +him I thought it was rather good. The old fool looked at it for some +time, and then said: 'Well, Betteridge, don't form your style on this. +It is very perfervid stuff. Not always grammatical.' All the ass thinks +of is whether plurals agree with singulars; he does not care a damn +whether the material is good."</p> + +<p>"That's it," said Gordon. "Masters try to make you imitate, and not +think for yourself. 'Mould your Latin verses on Vergil, your Greek prose +on Thucydides, your English on Matthew Arnold, but don't think for +yourself. Don't be original.' If anyone big began to think he'd see what +a farce it all is; and then where would all these fossils be? It's all +sham; look at the reports. Bradford gets told he's a good moral +influence. Mansell works hard and deserves his prize. It is hoped that +confirmation will be a help to me. Rot, it all is!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I'm not so certain confirmation is a farce," broke in Bradford. "If +you don't believe in it, you won't get to heaven."</p> + +<p>"But who the hell wants to get there," said Mansell. "Sing hymns all day +long. I can imagine it. Fancy having Caruthers singing out of tune in +your ear for ever. It's bad enough in chapel once a day. But for +ever——!"</p> + +<p>"My good lads, you don't know what heaven's like," whispered Bradford +confidentially. "Claremont was gassing away about Browning the other +day, and said that he believed that in heaven you could do all the +things you wanted to do on earth! And by Jove I would have a hot +time—some place, heaven!"</p> + +<p>"By Jove, yes; but you know, Bradford, there won't be much left for you +to do in heaven; at the rate you are going you will have done most +things on earth."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I am going to reform, and then I shall write to Claremont and tell +him how I, a wandering sheep, was brought home by his interpretation of +Andrew Dol Portio—I think that's what the thing was called."</p> + +<p>"Of course, that is an idea," said Mansell, "but I am not so sure of +what's going to happen when we're dead.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</a></span> I am going to have a jolly good +time, and then take the risk. I never hedge my bets."</p> + +<p>"Well, you may go on your way to the eternal bonfire," said Bradford, +"but I am for righteousness. Now, listen to this, it's in the book we +have to read for confirmagers, <i>Daily Lies on the Daily Path</i>: '... If +you think that in your house things are being talked about that would +shock your mother or sister, don't merely shun it as something vile. It +is your duty to fight against it; reason with the boys. They probably +have some grain of decency left in them. If that fails, report the +matter to your house master. He will take your side. The boys will +probably be expelled, but you will have done your duty, as Solomon says +in Proverbs....' There now, Mansell. I am one of the children of light. +So you know what to expect from me. Shall I reason with you, lad? Have +you a grain of decency left in you, or must I——"</p> + +<p>At this point a well-aimed cushion put an end to the fervour of the new +child of light. Betteridge sat on his head.</p> + +<p>"Look here, Bradford," he began, "you may be a convert and all that, but +don't play John the Baptist in here. It does not pay. Very shortly I +shall carry your head to the dustbin in a saucer. Let me tell you the +story of one Stevenson in Mr Macdonald's house. He was, like you, about +to be confirmed, and was, like you, very full of himself. And being, as +Lovelace, a lover of the race-course, he walked about in his study in +hall, chanting us a dirge out of sheer religious fervour: 'My name is +down for the confirmation stakes.' Macdonald passed the door and, on +hearing him, entered and said: 'Well you are scratched now at any rate! +'Take that to heart, and be not as the seeds that are sown on stony +ground, who spring up in the night and wither in the morning."</p> + +<p>Betteridge intoned the whole lecture. The story was in a way true, but +the Stevenson in question had shouted down the passage: "Hurrah, no +prep. to-night; my name is down for the confirmation stakes." With the +result as above. Gordon burst out:</p> + +<p>"By the way, talking of Macdonald, he made a priceless remark to-day. +Kennedy, that little cove in Christy's, came<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</a></span> in late and began +stammering out that it was only a minute or two over time; Macdonald +looked on him for a minute, and then said: 'Your excuse is just about as +good as the woman's who, having had an illegitimate baby, protested that +it was only a small one.'"</p> + +<p>"By Jove, he's some fellow. Now he's a man," said Mansell. "He's a boy +still; he can see our side of the question, and he knows what footling +idiots half of the common room are. If we had more like him." ...</p> + +<p>"And it would be a jolly good thing, too," said Betteridge, "if we could +get a really young master like that Winchborough man, Ferrers, I was +telling you about. He'd stir things up a bit."</p> + +<p>At that moment the Abbey sounded half-past eight.</p> + +<p>"Good Lord," said Hunter, "only quarter of an hour more, and we've done +nothing the whole of hall. Let's rout out Lovelace and go and rag Rudd."</p> + +<p>In three minutes Rudd was under the table, with Mansell seated on his +chest.</p> + +<p>It was rather unfortunate that Gordon should have chosen Tester to have +a study with. Tester was over sixteen, was in the Lower Sixth, and had +got his Seconds at cricket. He was a House blood. Gordon did not care +for him particularly. But he had a good study, No. 1, at the far end of +the lower landing, and Gordon wanted a big study. It was so very fine to +sit chatting to Foster or Collins in one of the small studies for a +little time and then to say suddenly, in a lordly manner: "Oh, look +here, there's no room here at all. Come down to my study, there are +several arm-chairs there!"</p> + +<p>It is always pleasant to appear better than one's equals. But Tester was +a dangerous friend to have at a time when the mind is so open to +impressions. For Tester had not risen to his position on his own merits +alone. Lovelace major had always said he was not much good, and the year +before had not given him his House cap. But Tester was a very great +friend of Stewart's, the captain of the Eleven. Stewart gave him his +Seconds for making twenty against the town, so Meredith had to give him +his House cap. It is a school rule that a "Seconds" must have his House +cap. Tester was not improved by his friendship with Stewart,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</a></span> and the +pity was that he was really clever. He could always argue his case.</p> + +<p>"I never asked to be brought into this world," he said, "I am just +suddenly put here, and told to make the best of things; and I intend to +make the best of things. I am going to do what I like with my life. +Wrong and right are merely relative terms. They change to fit their +environment. Baudelaire would not have been tolerated in the Hampstead +Garden Suburb; Catullus would not have been received in Sparta. But at +Paris and Rome customs were different. We only frame philosophies to +suit our wishes. And I prefer to follow my own inclinations to those of +a sham twentieth-century civilisation."</p> + +<p>Gordon did not like this; but if one lives daily in the company of a man +who is clever and a personality, one is bound to look at life, at times, +at any rate, through his spectacles. Gordon began to look on things +which he once objected to as quite natural and ordinary.</p> + +<p>"I say, Caruthers, I hope you don't mind clearing out of here for a +bit," Tester would say. "Stapleton is coming in for a few minutes. You +quite understand, don't you?"</p> + +<p>As soon as we begin to look on a thing as ordinary and natural, we also +begin to think it is right. After a little Gordon ceased to worry +whether such things were right or wrong. It was silly to quarrel with +existing conditions, especially if they were rather pleasant ones. +Gordon had a study with Tester till the end of the summer.</p> + +<p>One day, towards the end of the Easter term, Gordon asked Tester, rather +shyly, if he would leave him alone a little. "I've often cleared out for +you, you know."</p> + +<p>"Of course, that's quite all right, my dear fellow. Any time you like, I +understand!" Tester smiled as he walked down the passage.</p> + +<p>But during the winter term Gordon worried about little except football; +when he was not playing, he was ragging. Form he looked on as a glorious +recreation. He was learning more than he ever learned afterwards without +making much effort. Macdonald was a scholar; he did not teach people by +making them work, he taught them by making it impossible for them to +forget what he told them. No<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</a></span> one who has ever been through the Upper +Fifth at Fernhurst would have the slightest difficulty in writing a +character sketch of any English king, even though he might never have +read a chapter about him. Macdonald made every man in history a living +character; not a sort of rack on which to hang dates and facts.</p> + +<p>Football, however, was not going quite so satisfactorily. Gordon was +never tried for the Colts Fifteen, although he subsequently proved +himself better than most of the other forwards in it, and had to play in +House games every day. Once a week a House game is a thundering good +game, but more often it is one-sided, and for a person who really cares +for footer, such afternoons are very dull. On the Upper or Lower a good +game was certain; the captain of the school always chose sides that +would be fairly level. But House sides were different. Nothing depended +on their results. Sometimes bloods would play, sometimes not; it was a +toss up. And worst of all, Simonds was abominably slack. For a few weeks +the House thought it rather funny, and the smaller members of the House +secretly rejoiced; but the games-loving set waxed furious.</p> + +<p>"Damn it all," said Mansell, "the man's here to coach us, not to sit in +his study sweating up dates!"</p> + +<p>The result of it was that Mansell and his friends got filled with an +enormous sense of their own importance; they considered themselves the +only people in the House who were keen. And they let the rest of the +House know it. They groused about "the great days of Lovelace," and gave +people like Rudd a most godless time. There is no more thoroughly +self-satisfied person than the second-class athlete; and when he also +imagines himself an Isaiah preaching repentance, he wants kicking badly. +Unfortunately no one kicked Gordon or Lovelace; and they went on their +way contented with themselves, though with no one else.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>One of the easiest ways of discovering a person's social status at +school is by watching his behaviour in the tuck-shop. The tuck-shop or +"Toe," as it is generally called, is a long wooden building with +corrugated iron roof, situated just opposite Buller's house, not far +from the new<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</a></span> buildings. It is divided by a wooden partition into two +shops; at each end of the outer shop run two counters. On the right-hand +counter, which is connected with a small kitchen, cakes, muffins and +sausages are sold; on the left-hand side there are sweets and fruit. The +inner and larger room is filled with tables, and round the room are +photographs of all the school teams. At the far end, in huge green +frames, are hung photographs of the two great Fernhurst Fifteens who +went through the season without losing a match. The "Toe" is the +noisiest place in the whole school. It is superintended by five +waitresses, and they have a very poor time of it.</p> + +<p>The real blood is easily recognised. He strolls in as if he had taken a +mortgage on the place, swaggers into the inner room, puts down his books +on the top table in the right-hand corner—only the bloods sit here—and +demands a cup of tea and a macaroon. A special counter has been made by +the bloods' table, so that the great men can order what they want +without going back into the outer shop. No real blood ever makes a noise +in the outer shop. When he is once inside the inner shop, however, he +immediately lets everyone know it. If he sees anyone he knows, he bawls +out:</p> + +<p>"I say, have you prepared this stuff for Christy?"</p> + +<p>The person asked never has.</p> + +<p>"Nor have I. Rot, I call it."</p> + +<p>No blood is ever known to have prepared anything.</p> + +<p>The big man then sits down. If a friend of his is anywhere about, he +flings a lump of sugar at him. When he gets up he knocks over at least +one chair. He then strolls out, observing the same magnificent dignity +in the outer shop. No one can mistake him.</p> + +<p>But the only other person who makes no row in the outer shop is the +small boy, who creeps in, and creeps out, unnoticed. Everyone with any +claim to greatness asserts his presence loudly. The chief figures at +this time were the junior members of Buller's, and especially the two +Hazlitts. Their elder brother was the school winger, and an important +person; but they had done nothing but make a noise during their two +years at Fernhurst. Athleticism had had a disastrous effect on them. +Because their house<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</a></span> had won the Thirds, Two Cock and Three Cock, they +thought themselves gods. In the tuck-shop they acted as avenging angels +sent to punish a wicked world. Their chief amusement was to see a person +leaning over a counter, kick his backside when he was not looking, and +then run away. It was their class that were the real nuisance in the +"Toe." They persecuted the girls in charge most damnably. Very often +only one girl was in charge. The younger Hazlitt would at once seat +himself on the other counter and shriek out:</p> + +<p>"Nellie, when are you coming over here? I shall bag these sweets if you +don't buck up." He would then seize a huge glass jar of peppermints, and +roll it along the zinc counter.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Mr Hazlitt, do leave that alone," the wretched Nellie would +implore. But it was no use. When there was a big crowd waiting to be +served, the Hazlitt brethren would take knives and beat on the zinc +counter, shouting out: "Nellie, come here!" They were a thoroughly +objectionable pair. Whenever Mansell saw them, he kicked them hard, and +they got rather frightened of the School House after a bit.</p> + +<p>It is not to be thought, however, that the behaviour of the School House +was exemplary. Mansell usually kicked up an almighty row, but he left +"Nellie" alone. He was not going to lower himself to the Hazlitt level.</p> + +<p>It is an amazing thing that the half-blood very rarely gets into a row; +and yet he always talks as if expulsion hung over his head. Probably he +thinks it draws attention to himself. Mansell would always enter the +shop in exactly the same way; he banged his books on the counter and, +sighting Hunter, fired off at once.</p> + +<p>"I say, look here, give me a con. I am in the hell of a hole. I prepared +the wrong stuff for old Claremont, and the man's getting awfully sick +with me; he may report me to the Chief. Do help me out!"</p> + +<p>"Sorry, old cock," said Hunter, "but I specialise in stinks!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, do you! Well, I suppose I shall have to chance it; that's all. He +may not shove me on."</p> + +<p>The small boys thought Mansell's daring very fine. But<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</a></span> strangely +enough, although he was always in a state of fearful agitation, he had +so far singularly managed to avoid getting reported. But still it kept +up appearances to talk a lot.</p> + +<p>Gordon, of course, had to be fairly quiet in the tuck-shop. He was not +yet known among the school in general; and it was only in Buller's that +small boys gave tongue in the tuck-shop. But then Buller's were, in +their own opinion, to the rest of the School as Rome was to Italy. +Fernhurst was merely a province of Buller's. They kept this view to +themselves, however. "The Bull" would have dealt very summarily with +such assumptions.</p> + +<p>And so, when Lovelace and Tester and Mansell were there Gordon was +generally to be found contributing his share to the general disorder, +but when alone, he sat quite quietly with Collins and Foster. He rather +longed for the day when he could start a row all on his own. A strange +ambition for any candidate for immortality!</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>About the middle of the term was the field day at Salisbury Plain. Most +of the Public Schools were present; it was a noble affair from the +general's point of view. The school, however, considered it a putrid +sweat. For hours they pounded over ploughed fields and the day dragged +slowly on to its weary close and two hundred very tired privates at last +fell into a six-fifty train.</p> + +<p>Two days later a notice was brought round by the school <i>custos</i>: "Roll +for all those who went to Salisbury Plain on Wednesday in the big +schoolroom at six <span class="smcap">p.m.</span>" There is nothing quite so enjoyable as +the sensation that a big row is on, in which you yourself have no part. +Gordon trembled with excitement. He whispered excitedly to the man on +his left, Lidderdale, a man in Rogers': "What's up?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, nothing much. Some silly ass put his bayonet through a carriage +window. Rogers was gassing about it in the dormitories last night."</p> + +<p>"Oh!" said Gordon. Very disappointedly he returned to his academic +activities. He had had hopes of some splendid row, and after all, it was +only about a silly ass and a bayonet. Rotten! Fancy being made late for +tea because of that. But, as it turned out, his hopes were<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</a></span> satisfied. +When he reached the big schoolroom, everything certainly looked most +formal. In front of the big dais where the choir stood during the +concerts sat all the masters in a half-circle. The Chief sat in the +centre.</p> + +<p>"Are they all here, Udal?" the Chief asked the senior sergeant.</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir."</p> + +<p>The Chief rose.</p> + +<p>"I have to address you to-night on a very serious subject. During the +field day last Wednesday, someone in this room disgraced not only his +school, but the King's uniform. An officer from another school has +written to tell me that he overheard two of you talking outside the +canteen in language that would disgrace a costermonger. I sincerely wish +he had taken their names at once. As it is, I do not know their names. +The officer in question said that both boys were over seventeen, and +that the shorter of the two said nothing at all, as far as he could +hear. Now I want the names of both those boys. If they own up to me +to-night, I shall most certainly deal very severely with one at least of +them. If they do not come to me of their own free will, I may be forced +to ask the officer to come down and identify the boys, in which case +both will from that instant cease to be members of Fernhurst School."</p> + +<p>In a state of high excitement the school poured down to tea.</p> + +<p>"I bet it's someone in Christy's," said Bradford.</p> + +<p>Christy believed in leaving his house entirely to his prefects. It was a +good way of avoiding responsibility; but his choice of prefects was not +altogether wise.</p> + +<p>"Do you think the men will own up?" said Gordon.</p> + +<p>"Not unless they're most abandoned fools," replied Lovelace.</p> + +<p>There was only one topic of conversation at tea, and afterwards +Lovelace, Hobson and Gordon discussed the affair keenly in No. 1. They +all agreed that the men would not own up, and the general opinion was +that someone in Christy's was responsible. Discussion raged fiercely as +to who it was. Gordon was all for it being Isaacs, Lovelace for +Everington, Hunter for Mead. The point was being debated, when Tester +and Bradford came in.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Hullo, come in," shouted Gordon, "we are having a great fight about +this. I say Isaacs is the most likely man. What do you think?"</p> + +<p>Tester looked round carefully, and then began anxiously:</p> + +<p>"Look here, you men; swear you won't tell a soul if we tell you +something."</p> + +<p>The oath was taken.</p> + +<p>"Well, it's us!"</p> + +<p>There was a hush. "Good Gawd!" said Hunter. Silence ensued; but +curiosity soon overcame surprise.</p> + +<p>"What did you say, by the by?" asked Gordon.</p> + +<p>Tester repeated as far as he could remember the exact words.</p> + +<p>"Yes, you know; it was a bit hot, wasn't it? I expect you opened the +blighter's eyes a bit. He wasn't used to that sort of literature."</p> + +<p>In spite of themselves Tester and Bradford laughed. They had been +vaguely aware of a tired-looking figure in a Sam Browne as they left the +canteen. He had looked "some ass." But Gordon soon became serious again.</p> + +<p>"What are you men going to do? Of course you won't own up."</p> + +<p>"We can't very well. I am in the Sixth and Bradford's had one row this +term, and of course, I was the criminal. I am supposed to be a +responsible personage."</p> + +<p>"Of course, owning up's out of the question."</p> + +<p>"But do you think anything will happen?" Bradford was a little +frightened. "I mean will there be a sort of general inspection?"</p> + +<p>"You bet there won't. When a master begs men to own up, it means that +he's up the spout. It's much more fun catching a fellow red-handed. And, +after all, you two are the last people anyone would think of."</p> + +<p>"Of course, it's all right," said Lovelace; "there's only one thing to +do. You talk of nothing else but this rotten affair; talk about it in +the Toe, in the changing-room, in form, in chapel, if you like. Ask +people you meet if they've owned up. Treat the whole thing as a glorious +rag."</p> + +<p>"Yes," shouted Gordon, "let's go down to Rudd and tell him if he doesn't +own up we'll give him hell."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</a></span></p> + +<p>And in truth the next half-hour was for Rudd very hell of very hell. His +existence just now was not very pleasant. If he had been good at footer +all his domestic failings would have been forgiven him. But he was not; +he loathed the game, though at times he would have given anything to be +of some use. Strangely enough, at Oxford he found people respected his +brains, and no one hated him because he could not drop goals from the +twenty-five. Life is full of compensations.</p> + +<p>Lovelace and Tester were both supreme actors. That night in the +dormitory they were full of the subject. After lights out, they kept the +whole place in a roar of laughter. Bradford joined in a bit, but he was +still nervous; visions rose up before him of an officer passing down the +ranks, suddenly seizing him, and saying: "This is the man." It was +hardly a ravishing thought; but it was useless to go back on a lie. +Tester realised this. As Ferguson came through he called out:</p> + +<p>"I say, Ferguson, you know you'd better go up to the Chief and tell him +you did it."</p> + +<p>Ferguson was, like the Boy Scout, always prepared.</p> + +<p>"My good man, you don't surely imagine I am so devoid of good feeling +and have such a hazy conception of the higher life as not to inform the +Headmaster. I have just returned from breaking the news to him. He took +it quite well on the whole. It was a touching scene. I nearly wept."</p> + +<p>Betteridge then arose, and gave an imitation of a Rogers' sermon.</p> + +<p>"Well, Ferguson, I must own that I am sorry to lose you. I would give +much to retain you here. But <i>dis aliter visum</i>: you must go. You are +expelled. Between the Scylla of over-elation and the Charybdis of +despair you have a long time steered the bark of the School House. But +one failing wipes away many virtues. And we must not discriminate +between the doer and the deed, the actor and the action, the sinner and +the sin. The same punishment for all. But in that paradisal state where +suns sink not nor flowers fade, there will be a sweet reunion."</p> + +<p>It was pure Rogers. The dormitory rocked with laughter. Tester began to +give his impressions of what the officer<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</a></span> must have looked like. There +was a heated argument as to whether he was a parson. Mansell thought +not.</p> + +<p>"A fellow who knows his Bible well would not be shocked with a little +swearing. I bet some of the bits in Genesis and Samuel are hotter than +anything the blighter said. It was probably some dotard who reads +Keats."</p> + +<p>This seemed a sound piece of reasoning.</p> + +<p>Next day the rumour spread round the school that a half-holiday was +going to be stopped, as no one had owned up.</p> + +<p>"Safety," said Tester. "That means the chase is given up."</p> + +<p>But the school, which, up to now, had treated the affair as a joke, +began to get annoyed. Tolerance and broadmindedness were all right as +long as their own interests were secure; but when it came to a +half-holiday being stopped because some blighter had not the decency to +own up——</p> + +<p>"It's a scandal," said Fletcher, in front of the House studies. "First +this blighter does the school a lot of harm by swearing; and then he is +in too much of a funk to own up, and we get in a row for it. Man must be +a colossal swine."</p> + +<p>He forgot that last night he had been treating the whole thing as a +joke. Rogers was passing by up the Headmaster's drive on the way to his +class-room, and overheard this outburst of righteous indignation. His +heart was rejoiced to see such a good moral tone in the school. As he +said in the common room: "It makes one proud to see what a sane, +unprejudiced view the school takes of this unsavoury incident."</p> + +<p>Lovelace now hit on a great plan. "Let's organise a strike. Why should +we go into school to-morrow? If we can get enough to cut, we can't be +punished. Let's canvass."</p> + +<p>The fiery cross of rebellion was flung down the study passages. With +lists of paper in their hands, Hunter, Mansell, Lovelace and Gordon +(Tester thought himself too big a blood for such a proceeding) dashed +into study after study urging their inhabitants to sign on for the great +strike.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Come on, you men," Hunter said. "It is the idea of a lifetime. If +enough don't turn up, nothing can happen. You can't sack the whole +school."</p> + +<p>A few bright rebels like Archie Fletcher signed on at once. Rudd, too, +thought it safer to put his name down. But the average person was more +cautious.</p> + +<p>"How many have you got down?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, about fifteen."</p> + +<p>"Well, look here, if you get over fifty I'll join in."</p> + +<p>As nearly everyone said this, the hopes of successful operations seemed +unlikely.</p> + +<p>But still it all helped to disarm any trace of suspicion.</p> + +<p>"I say, Ferguson, what do you think of all this?" said Mansell.</p> + +<p>"I think a great creed has gone down. I shall no longer believe that +conscience and cowardice are synonymous; only conscience is the trade +name of the firm."</p> + +<p>Mansell laughed. It was probably meant to be funny. He never quite +understood Ferguson. On the next afternoon everyone sat down to two +hours' extra school. There was much swearing at tea. But in a day or two +it was all forgotten.</p> + +<p>To this day no one at Fernhurst knows who the two boys were. The secret +was well kept.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>As the term drew to its close, with the Fifteen filled up and all the +big matches over, interest was centred mainly in House football and +House affairs. Mansell, it is true, was still worrying whether he would +get his Seconds. But Lovelace and Gordon talked of nothing but the +Thirds. The Colts' matches were over, and on House games one of the two +House sides was always a trial Thirds. Edwards, a heavy, clumsy +scrum-half, was captain of the side; Gordon led the scrum.</p> + +<p>"If only we had Armour back as House captain," Hunter used to complain, +"that side couldn't lose."</p> + +<p>"And we sha'n't lose either," said Gordon; "we are going to sweep the +field next term, and we are going to drive the ball over the line +somehow, and God save anyone who gets in the light."</p> + +<p>No House side ever imagines it is going to be beaten.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</a></span> Three Cocks have +been lost by over fifty points; yet on the morning of the match half the +"grovel" would be quite ready to lay heavy odds on their chance of +winning, and whenever there is a good chance of victory, the House is +absolutely cocksure. The result of this is that the House is magnificent +in an uphill fight, but is rather liable to fling away a victory by +carelessness.</p> + +<p>But this side was certainly "pretty hot stuff." It took a lot to stop +Stewart when once he got the ball, and Lovelace was brilliant in attack. +The grovel was light, and was a little inclined to wing, but in the +loose it was a big scoring combination. In the last week of the term +there was a House game on, the Lower <i>v.</i> Buller's. Simonds turned out +the Thirds side. It was a terrific fight. Buller's had two Seconds +playing and a House cap; but the House had had the advantage of having +played together. There was, at this time, a good deal of bad blood +between the House and Buller's, and the play was not always quite clean. +There was a good deal of fisting in the scrum. Gordon was in great form; +he scored the first try with a long dribble, and led the pack well. +Lovelace dropped a goal from a mark nearly midway between the +twenty-five and the half-way line. Collins scrambled over the corner +from a line out. Buller's only scored once, when Aspinall, their wing +three, who had his Seconds, got a decent pass, and ran practically the +whole length of the field. Towards the end, however, the light House +grovel got tired and was penned in its own half. "Come on, House," +Gordon yelled. "One more rush; let the swine have it!" The House was +exhausted, it managed to keep Buller's out; but no more. This was an +ominous sign. It had not been a long game.</p> + +<p>"The Bull" had been watching the game. As the players trooped off the +field, he called back Gordon. "Caruthers, here a second. You know, I +don't want to interfere where it's not my business, but I don't think +you should call another house 'swine.' To begin with, it's not the +English idea of sport, and if there's any ill feeling between two houses +in a school, especially the two biggest, it's not good for the school. +Do you see what I mean?"</p> + +<p>"Oh yes, sir. I didn't mean——"</p> + +<p>"Of course you didn't, my dear chap.... By the way;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</a></span> will you be young +enough for the Colts' next year? You will. Good. Then it won't be at all +a bad side. Collins and Foster were quite good; and you played a really +good game."</p> + +<p>"What did 'the Bull' want, Caruthers?" Lovelace asked as Gordon walked +into the changing-room.</p> + +<p>"Oh, nothing much. He didn't like me calling his fellows 'swine.'"</p> + +<p>"But why the devil not? They are swine, aren't they?"</p> + +<p>"Of course they are; but you can hardly expect 'the Bull' to realise +it."</p> + +<p>"No, perhaps not; but, my God, they are the last thing in swine, those +Hazlitts and their crowd."</p> + +<p>The House supper this year was not much, compared with the one of the +year before. Simonds was not an R.D. Lovelace, and Ferguson again spoke +miles above his audience. However, he was a sport, and let them do as +they liked; so they drank his health and sang: <i>He's a Jolly Good +Fellow!</i> Several old boys came down, FitzMorris with an eyeglass and a +wonderful tie; Sandham, as usual, quite insignificant; Armour wearing +the blue waistcoat of a Wadham drinking club. Meredith had been +expected, but at the last moment he had found his debts so much in +excess of a very generous allowance that he would have to retrench a +little. It was a pity; but in the Bullingdon living is not cheap and +Meredith was a great blood.</p> + +<p>The prize-giving this term afforded little comfort to Gordon; he was +easily bottom of V.A. Rather a collapse, but still one has to keep up +with things. It does not do to lose sight of the really important issues +of life, and Gordon had certainly been a social success. He travelled up +to London with Ferguson and Tester, and felt no small part of a giant +when Collins entered their carriage, suddenly saw Ferguson, and with +inaudible apologies vanished quickly down the corridor. Olympus was not +so very far off.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_II_HEALTHY_PHILISTINISM" id="CHAPTER_II_HEALTHY_PHILISTINISM"></a>CHAPTER II: HEALTHY PHILISTINISM</h2> + + +<p>During the Christmas holidays there appeared in a certain periodical one +of the usual attacks on the Public School system. It repeated all the +old arguments about keeping abreast of the times, and doing more modern +languages and less classics. The writer had nothing new to say, and, +like most other such attacks, his jeremiad was in an hour or two +forgotten. But at Fernhurst it did have some effect, for it gave Henry +Trundle the idea of forming a special class for French enthusiasts. +Henry Trundle was one of the French masters. He was entirely English, +had won his Blue for golf at Oxford, and had got a Double First. He also +was quite incapable of teaching anything. His form made no pretence of +keeping order; the noise that proceeded from his class-room could be +heard anywhere within a radius of a hundred yards. And yet he was not a +bad fellow; he was a good husband, and his children were very fond of +him. His domestic virtues, however, were sadly lost on Fernhurst, who +looked on him as a general buffoon, a hopeless ass. His class-room was +considered a sort of Y.M.C.A. entertainment hall, where there was +singing and dancing, and a mild check on excessive rioting.</p> + +<p>At the beginning of the new term the Chief announced that in the upper +school one hour every day would be devoted to the study of either +French, maths or Latin. Each boy would choose his subject. Mr Reddon +would superintend the maths, Mr Trundle the French; for Latin each boy +would go to his own form master. To the hard-working, who had prizes +before their eyes, this scheme presented few attractions; as scholars it +would not be to their advantage to miss any classical hours, and French +was useless in scholarships. Macdonald, when he took down the names of +those who were to do Latin, found all those in front staying with him, +and all those behind going elsewhere. Macdonald laughed up his sleeve.</p> + +<p>Indeed Trundle's class-room was filled with the most arrant collection +of frauds that have ever sat together this side of the Inferno. It was +largely a School House gathering. Lovelace was there; Hunter, Mansell, +Gordon, Archie and Collins. Christy's house supplied Dyke, a fine<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</a></span> +footballer and a splendid ragger; Claremont's sent two typical dormice +in Forbes and Scobie; Buller's provided no one. Briault hailed from +Rogers. It was his boast that he could imitate any kind of animal from a +dog to a hyena. Benson, the only member of Abercrombie's, was entirely +insignificant, and actually did some work for the first two lessons. But +it was impossible to work long in such surroundings; and tales of the +extra French set are still told in whispers, after lights out, in the +upper dormitories.</p> + +<p>The opening was sensational. No sooner had Trundle taken his seat than +Dyke leapt to his feet, jumped on the desk, jumped off it into the vast +paper basket, upset that, charged up to Trundle, shook him by the hand, +and began to pour out words: "My dear sir, how are you? How is Mrs +Trundle, and the little Trundles? Have you had a pleasant Christmas? I +have, sir. This, sir, is your extra French set. The French set—Mr +Trundle; Mr Trundle—the French set." Amid a beating of desks Dyke +returned to his seat. Trundle was used to this. But he had rather hoped +his new set would be composed for the most part of honest young +scholars. It was a disappointment; still, he had grown used to it. Life +had not been too kind to him.</p> + +<p>"Now, let me see," he began, "who's the senior man here?"</p> + +<p>Immediately everyone except Benson stood up. "I am, sir."</p> + +<p>"But you can't all be the senior."</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir; we are," was the unanimous answer.</p> + +<p>"You see, sir," Gordon explained, "I am the cleverest and should be the +senior, but Mansell there, that dolt with the tie-pin, has been longer +in the school, and he's got his Seconds, and rather fancies himself. +Dyke has taken longer to reach IV. A than anyone else in the school's +history, and thinks that a sufficient claim to be senior. Lovelace, oh, +well, he's—well, I don't know what he is. Lovelace, you swine, what are +you?"</p> + +<p>"Confound you, man!" shouted the enraged three-quarter. "Who the +hell——"</p> + +<p>"Lovelace," broke in Trundle, "I think you may keep your reflections on +the future life till afterwards. We will sit in alphabetical order."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</a></span></p> + +<p>It is incredible how long it takes for ten boys to change their places. +It was a long process. Books fell to the right and to the left. There +were murmurs of "Damn you, man, that's my grammar!" or "Confound you, +Benson!" "Where the hell is my dictionary?" Twice Benson had been sent +flying into the waste-paper basket; three times had Dyke driven a +compass into the backside of Forbes, who looked like going to sleep. To +crown everything, Briault gave his celebrated imitation of a dog-fight. +Consternation reigned. Lovelace tried to hide under Trundle's desk; +Gordon endeavoured to get through a window that was hardly a foot +square. Macdonald's class-room was just the other side of the V. A +green; he chuckled to himself. "I hoped Caruthers would enjoy himself. I +think we shall have to put him on to construe when he returns. If he +goes to music-hall shows in school time he must pay for it, you know."</p> + +<p>There was an immense scuffling of feet, but much louder rang the noise +of the French students. A question had arisen as to what book they +should read that term. Everyone was shouting the name of his favourite +author. "Let's do <i>The Little Thing</i>," yelled Dyke. "No; de Maupassant," +shouted Mansell, adding, in an undertone: "I saw one of his books in a +shop in Villiers Street, looked pretty hot stuff." Then louder again: +"Let's have de Maupassant." "No; <i>The Black Tulip</i>," Lovelace implored, +and went on in a stage whisper: "Now don't be silly fools, I have got a +crib of this. Have some sense." "You don't imagine we're going to +prepare the stuff, do you?" was Hunter's retort. Above the uproar +Forbes' voice drawled: "I say, if there's a French translation of <i>Five +Nights</i>, let's read that. I know the book pretty well by heart."</p> + +<p>It was ultimately decided to read <i>six contes</i> by François Coppée; but +by the time the decision had been reached, the hour had been exhausted. +Rather sadly Trundle watched the set pour out into the cloister, +shouting and laughing. Even masters have souls. Boys don't realise this.</p> + +<p>Every day till the end of the term that farce continued. Sometimes +Trundle lost his temper. One day, Archie was singing: <i>Meet me under the +Roses</i>, while Gordon was giving a lively if inaccurate translation.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Fletcher, stop that singing!"</p> + +<p>"Mayn't I sing, sir?"</p> + +<p>"Of course not. This is a class-room."</p> + +<p>"Is it, sir? I thought it was a place of amusement."</p> + +<p>"Fifty lines, Fletcher."</p> + +<p>"But, sir, it is, you know——"</p> + +<p>"One hundred lines, Fletcher."</p> + +<p>"Really, sir——"</p> + +<p>"One hundred and fifty lines, Fletcher."</p> + +<p>Fletcher collapsed. Next morning a magnificent blue envelope, sealed at +every corner, arrived at Mr. Trundle's house. It contained a vast +quantity of blank paper.</p> + +<p>"But, sir, I really thought I put in the lines. Hunter, you swine, that +is your fault. Sir, I believe Hunter stole them. He had a big imposition +for the Chief. You dirty dog, Hunter. May I kick him, sir?"</p> + +<p>"No; sit down, Fletcher."</p> + +<p>The lines were never done.</p> + +<p>One day Collins was put on to construe. Of course he had made no attempt +to prepare it. This was at once evident.</p> + +<p>"Collins, have you prepared this?"</p> + +<p>"No, sir."</p> + +<p>"But why not?"</p> + +<p>Collins had seen <i>Charley's Aunt</i> in the holidays. "Ah, why?" was his +laconic answer.</p> + +<p>Trundle foamed with wrath. He snatched a cane from under his desk and +advanced on Collins. The prospective victim leapt back and pointed at +him with theatrical calm: "Look, he is coming at me with cane in hand. +Ha! he comes! he comes! see how he comes."</p> + +<p>Trundle launched a fierce blow at Collins, and only narrowly missed +Benson's eyes. Collins delivered a short lecture on the danger of losing +one's temper. Trundle returned to his desk.</p> + +<p>As the term went on the ragging became more elaborate. At first the set +was content with giving a sort of low comedian, knockabout performance. +But they soon wearied of such things. After all, they were real +artistes. And Archie Fletcher could not bear being ordinary. But still +there was a good deal of sport to be got out of quite<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</a></span> common place +manœuvres. The introduction of electric snuff, for instance, may not +be very original; but it was remarkably successful.</p> + +<p>Trundle had a habit of leaving his mark-book in his desk, and Lovelace +had a key that fitted it. The rest was simple. During evening hall +Hunter and Lovelace got leave to fetch a book from their class-room. +There was no one about. In five minutes Trundle's mark-book was filled +with snuff. Next morning the set assembled. Forbes was asleep, Benson +was furtively looking up a word in his dictionary, the School House +contingent was uncommonly quiet.</p> + +<p>"Well," said Trundle, "who shall we start off with this morning? Let me +see, ah!" he opened his mark-book.</p> + +<p>The roar of laughter was heard the other side of the court. For a full +three minutes Trundle was utterly, gorgeously prostrate with coughing +and sneezing.</p> + +<p>Mansell was very sympathetic.</p> + +<p>"Have you a cold, sir? I hope it's nothing serious, sir. I find the east +wind a little trying myself. Do you ever use Fletcher's cough lozenges? +Very efficacious, sir," he babbled on.</p> + +<p>At last Trundle recovered his wind if not his temper. He glowered at the +form.</p> + +<p>"Fletcher, translate, please."</p> + +<p>Fletcher began. But he did not get very far. Hunter let loose another +wave of snuff. The whole form was now coughing and sneezing certainly +considerably more than was necessary.</p> + +<p>"Next boy who sneezes I shall give a hundred lines to, and report him to +the Headmaster."</p> + +<p>Temporary peace ensued. It is not pleasant to be sent up to the Chief; +and weak masters have not the slightest scruple in doing so. The strong +men need not report. But a man like Archie could not be kept in order +long. He gave vent to a most unpleasant snort.</p> + +<p>"Fletcher, if you do that again I shall have to beat you."</p> + +<p>A slight pause.</p> + +<p>"Please, sir, may I blow my nose if I mayn't sniff?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, Fletcher; don't be stupid."</p> + +<p>Immediately there rose a chorus of "Mayn't we blow our<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</a></span> noses, too, sir? +Why should Fletcher be the only one allowed to. It isn't fair."</p> + +<p>Trundle gave way, and the rest of the hour was spent entirely in +coughing, shouting and sneezing. No work was done. But that was no +unusual occurrence in the extra French set.</p> + +<p>This was, of course, the sort of amusement that could be only indulged +in once. It would grow stale a second time. But Briault's idea of fancy +dress was one that presented infinite opportunities and gave full scope +for originality. At first nothing very startling occurred. On a freezing +cold day the whole set would assemble without waistcoats and with their +coats wide open would complain bitterly of the heat; on a warm day they +would go in arrayed as for an Antarctic expedition in wonderful scarves +and huge gloves.</p> + +<p>"It's disgraceful, sir, how cold this room is," Gordon complained. "I am +very sensitive to cold, and there are two windows open. They must be +shut."</p> + +<p>"Well, Caruthers, if you find this room too cold," replied Trundle +sarcastically, "you may return to the warmth of your own study and write +me out the lesson ten times. Do you prefer that?"</p> + +<p>Trundle thought that rather smart, but Gordon was never beaten.</p> + +<p>"Sir, I do prefer an unfairly long imposition to an attack of +pneumonia," and with that he sailed out of the room; the "impot" was, of +course, never done. Only Benson did things for Trundle.</p> + +<p>From this day on to discover a new kind of dress was the aim of Archie's +life. What he advised the form always copied. One day the Chief gave out +an order that, owing to the extreme cold, woollen waistcoats would be +allowed, provided they were of a quiet colour. That night Archie +searched the studies. For sixpence he purchased from a new boy a +threadbare carpet that had not been brushed or cleaned for generations. +This he cut up into six parts, and each School House member of the set +somehow or other made for himself a waistcoat out of them. Next day, +garbed in these, they rolled sedately to Trundle's, their coats flung +open, their hands in their trouser pockets.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</a></span></p> + +<p>Trundle sat speechless. At last he found words.</p> + +<p>"What is the meaning of this confounded impertinence? Collins, Mansell, +Caruthers, Hunter, Lovelace, and you Fletcher, take off that filthy +stuff."</p> + +<p>"That stuff, sir," drawled out Forbes. "What stuff?"</p> + +<p>"Don't interfere, Forbes," rapped out Trundle. "Take them off, I say."</p> + +<p>"Oh, do you mean our waistcoats, sir?" asked Hunter, in superbly feigned +surprise. "We couldn't take them off; we should catch a cold. The +Headmaster has just given out a notice about them. He said we could wear +them."</p> + +<p>"He never gave you permission to garb yourselves in the refuse of the +neighbourhood."</p> + +<p>"Refuse?" said Forbes. "Those waistcoats are of a most fashionable cut. +It's extremely hard to get that particular brand of cloth; my brother, +who is a member of the Bullingdon, told me——"</p> + +<p>"I don't want to know anything about your brother, Forbes. Take off +those things. The Headmaster would never allow them."</p> + +<p>"But, sir," insisted Archie. "He only said that they must be of a quiet +colour, and they are of a quiet colour, aren't they, sir?"</p> + +<p>In truth they were. There was not a trace of colour visible anywhere. +Trundle gave in. He murmured something about asking the Headmaster, and +then put on Archie to con. He never asked the Chief; and there was no +need for him to do so. It is not pleasant wearing dust-laden carpets for +an hour. Such jests can only be undertaken at rare intervals.</p> + +<p>But the culminating point was not reached till the last Thursday of the +term. It was boat-race day, and the set unanimously backed Oxford. At +ten o'clock the set was due to appear. But when Trundle arrived all he +found was Benson, who was in nervous apprehension lest he should have +come to the wrong room. If he had, he might lose some marks; and marks +were more to him than many boundaries. He smiled happily at Trundle.</p> + +<p>"Ah, where are the rest, Benson?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know, sir."</p> + +<p>"Oh, well, I suppose we must wait, but it is a great<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</a></span> nuisance. I wanted +to finish the book to-day, it's our last lesson, you know."</p> + +<p>The next day was Good Friday.</p> + +<p>For ten minutes they sat in silence. It takes a long time to prepare a +big rag; the curtain very seldom goes up punctually on the first night; +and there had been no dress rehearsal. There was a sound of scuffling +from the door in the cloister which led into the School House studies. +Then came the tread of measured feet. The door opened, and the great +procession entered.</p> + +<p>At the head was Gordon in Ferguson's dressing-gown (a great white +confection with pale pink frogs) with a white Colts' cap on his head; he +beat time with a small swagger cane. Then came the trumpeters, Crosbie +and Forbes, who were producing strange harmonies on two pipes that they +had bagged from the armoury. Behind them Mansell walked in corps clothes +and a Second Fifteen cap. He was chanting a low dirge. On each side of +him marched the choristers, Lovelace and Hunter, in white sheets and +enormous psalters that they had borrowed from the chapel. They also sang +in a strange outlandish tongue. But the <i>pièce de resistance</i> was the +banner. It consisted of a long piece of white calico on which was +inscribed in red ink: "Up, Up, Oxford. Down with the Cantabs." (Trundle +hailed from Emmanuel.) It was fastened at each end to a hockey stick, +and Fletcher and Collins bore it in solemnly. In the rear, Briault gave +his impressions of a cow being ill. Dyke was the showman.</p> + +<p>"I will now present, gentlemen," he began, "my circus of touring +artistes, who are raising a fund for the endowment of the Oxford boating +club. I must beg you all——"</p> + +<p>But Trundle cut short the oration. Seizing a cane, he rushed into the +cavalcade of Isis, and smote out full lustily. Pandemonium broke forth. +No battle-field was more rich in groans; no revue chorus produced so +much noise. It took a quarter of an hour to obtain quiet. But at last a +motley crowd sat down to study François Coppée.</p> + +<p>And then came the <i>dénouement</i>. It was entirely unexpected and entirely +unrehearsed. There was a knock outside. The door opened and an amazing +apparition<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</a></span> appeared on the threshold. Betteridge was in the Sixth. Very +enviously the night before he had listened to the preparations and plans +of the extra French set; cursing inwardly, he had sat down at ten +o'clock to do prose with the Chief. Faintly across the court were borne +the sounds of strife. He groaned within him. Suddenly the Chief stood +up.</p> + +<p>"I find I shall have to leave you for a little. Some parents are coming +to interview me. I want you all to return quietly to your studies, and +continue the prose there."</p> + +<p>Joyfully the Sixth trooped out. Betteridge rushed across the courts to +Trundle's class-room. For a second he listened outside, then a great +idea struck him. There was still half-an-hour left. Madly he tore up to +the dormitories. Luckily they were not locked. Five minutes later he +appeared before Mr Henry Trundle entirely changed. He had on a very +light brown suit, a pair of check spats, a rainbow-coloured waistcoat, a +heliotrope bow tie; a bowler was balanced on his head at an angle of +forty-five degrees, a camera was slung round his neck, in his hand he +had a notebook and pencil.</p> + +<p>"Mr Trundle, I believe," he said. "I am the reporter of <i>The Fernhurst +Gazette</i>. We have received a wire that there has been a great pro-Oxford +demonstration in here, and we want to get an account of it in the stop +press news before our sister journal, <i>The Western Evening Transcript</i>. +Can you give me some notes?"</p> + +<p>As he stopped, the set, that had remained spellbound, burst into a +hilarious shriek of joy. Everyone heard it; even Claremont woke up and +asked what it was. Arthur, the school <i>custos</i>, talks of it to this day.</p> + +<p>And at this point the Chief comes into the story. He was showing the +parents in question round the studies when he heard an uproar proceeding +from somewhere near the cloisters. He excused himself from the parents, +ran downstairs, and tracked the noise to Trundle's class-room. He +entered. Never before had he seen disorder on such a generous scale. He +looked round.</p> + +<p>"Mr Trundle—er—what er—set is this?"</p> + +<p>"The extra French set, Headmaster."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</a></span></p> + +<p>The Chief half smiled. He walked out without another word.</p> + +<p>Next term there was no extra French set.</p> + +<p>The ragging of Trundle, however, was merely regarded relaxation from the +serious business of life. In an Easter term football is the only thing +that any respectable man will really worry about. And Gordon, judged on +these grounds, and his friends with him, would most certainly pass into +the most select society circle. The Thirds this year was a terribly +perplexing problem. Simonds had not taken enough trouble with his +juniors the term before. This term he was working hard enough, but it +was a bit late in the day to begin. On the first Saturday of the term a +scratch side took sixty-five points off the prospective Thirds side.</p> + +<p>"If you play as badly as that on the day you'll lose by forty points," +growled Simonds, "and you'll damned well deserve a beating, too."</p> + +<p>"Curse the man," muttered Lovelace. "Whose bloody fault is it but his, I +should like to know? He is a disgrace to the House, working for some +rotten scholarship when he ought to be training on our juniors. Rotten +swine."</p> + +<p>"Well, he's pretty well all right this term, at any rate," said Gordon. +"For the Lord's sake don't go grousing about; or we sha'n't keep the +score under eighty, let alone ninety. If we lose, we lose; and, my God, +we'll make 'em play for it."</p> + +<p>The side certainly tried hard, and Simonds did his best, but all the +same, on the day of the match, Buller's were backing their chances of +running up a score of over thirty points at three to one.</p> + +<p>"The swine!" said Gordon. "Swanking it about how they are going to lick +us to bits. My word, I would give something to smash them to +smithereens. I have taken on a bet with every man in Buller's whom I +found offering long odds. I stand to win quite a lot. And I shall win +it."</p> + +<p>"God's truth," said Mansell, "do they think there's no guts left in the +House at all? They may go gassing about the number of Colts' badges they +have got, but they are not used to our way of playing. We go for the +ball, and if a man's in the light we knock him out of it. School House<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</a></span> +footer is not pretty to look at; but it's the real thing, not a sort of +nursery affair. We go in to win."</p> + +<p>Just before lunch a typical telegram from Meredith was pinned up on the +House board:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Go it House. And give them ——"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>The blank was left to the imagination. The House remembered Meredith and +filled it in accordingly.</p> + +<p>Nothing is more horrible than the morning before a first House match. +Gordon woke happy and expectant, but by break he had begun to feel a +little shivery, and at lunch-time he was done to the world. He ate +nothing, answered questions in vague monosyllables, and smiled half +nervously at everyone in general. He was suffering from the worst kind +of stage fright. And after all, to play in an important match before the +whole school is a fairly terrifying experience. As he sat trembling in +the pavilion, waiting for the whistle to blow, Gordon would have +welcomed any form of death, anything to save him from the ordeal before +him. The whistle blew at last. As he walked out from the pavilion in his +magenta-and-black jersey, an unspeakable terror gripped him; his knees +became very weak; his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth, and then +something seemed to snap in his brain. He walked on quite cheerfully. He +was as a spectator. It seemed that it was not really he, but his ghost +that was walking on to the field. Subconsciously he lined up with the +rest. The School side in their white jerseys, the Colts with their red +dragons, seemed miles away. Collins kicked off. Gordon did not know he +was playing. A roar of "House" rose from the touch-line. Involuntarily +he joined it, thinking himself a looker-on, then suddenly Livingstone, +the Buller's inside three-quarter, caught the ball and ran towards him. +At once Gordon was himself. He forgot the crowd on the touch-line, +forgot his nervousness, forgot everything except that he was playing for +the House, and somehow or other had to drive the ball over that line. He +crashed into Livingstone, and the pair rolled into touch. A cheer +rippled down the line. Gordon did not hear it.</p> + +<p><i>The Fernhurstian</i> described this match as "perhaps the finest ever +witnessed on the School ground," and the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</a></span> reporter was not far wrong. +Certainly that first mad rush of the House forwards was the most +glorious moment in Gordon's football career. It was all so unexpected, +so essentially wonderful. On the touch-line Mansell shouted himself +hoarse. The cries of "House" completely drowned those of "School." For +the first quarter of an hour the School pack never got the ball out of +their half. It seemed that the House must score. Time after time, the +School were forced to touch down. Stewart was brought down just the +wrong side of the line. Lovelace performed prodigies of valour. A gloom +descended over Buller's. On the Masters' side of the line "the Bull" +fumed and ground his teeth: "Go low, Reice, you stinking little funk. +Get round, forwards, and shove; you are slacking, the lot of you. Buck +up, Philson." Up and down he stamped, cursing at his men. Lovelace could +hardly refrain from laughing.</p> + +<p>"Now, lads," shouted Stewart, "fair or foul; shove the ball over the +line!" Like a sledge-hammer Gordon crashed into the scrum. Wilkinson was +in his light, but Gordon was seeing red, his feet stamped on Wilkinson, +and found the ball. His elbows swung viciously, as he cut his way +through the scrum. Then someone caught him by the ankle. He went down +hard. A boot caught him on the side of the head. He got up blind with +wrath. "Fight! Fight!" he yelled. The House grovel swarmed in; the +outhouse pack shivered for a moment, then gave way. Collins and Gordon +burst through, the ball at their toes; Wilkinson dashed across and dived +for the ball; he clawed it for a second, Gordon's feet smashed it from +his hands, and Collins steered it past the back, and kicked it just over +the line and fell on top of it.</p> + +<p>From the touch-line there burst a roar that must have been heard five +miles away. "Well done, laddie!" bawled Mansell. Even Ferguson waved his +stick in the air. It was a great moment.</p> + +<p>As the School lined up behind their line, "the Bull" strode behind them. +"What are you doing? Put some life into your game. Buck up, all of you; +it is a filthy show. Guts!"</p> + +<p>Lovelace took the kick. It was far out: the ball hardly<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</a></span> rose from the +ground. In a state of feverish panic Livingstone dropped out. For a +second or two the School pressed. But it was impossible to withstand the +wild attack of the House for long. Collins, elated by his success, +brought off a magnificent dribble, and was forced into touch only a few +yards from the line. Half-time was not far off. And the House struggled +fiercely to get over the line once more. Up and down between the goal +line and the twenty-five the two scrums fought. It seemed only a matter +of time for another try to send the House across with a lead of six +points; but there is as much luck in rugger as in any game. The House +had heeled perfectly, Foster cut past one man, and passed out to +Richards. A roar of "House!" went up. A try was imminent, Richards +passed to Lovelace. But Livingstone was one of those three-quarters who +will miss an easy kick one minute and bring off a superb collar the +next. As Richards passed, he dashed between him and Lovelace, +intercepted the pass, and raced up the field. Collins caught him only a +foot away from the line, and from the line out Grienburg, a heavy Buller +forward, caught the ball and fell over the line by the flag, just as the +whistle was about to blow for half-time. It was very far out, and the +kick failed. The sides crossed over 3-3.</p> + +<p>Simonds came on during the interval almost incoherent with excitement. +"Splendid, you fellows! Magnificent! Never saw anything like it. Stick +to it and you're bound to win. Simply putrid luck that last try ... keep +it up!"</p> + +<p>On the touch-line there was no doubt as to the final result. "We shall +walk away with the Cup," said Mansell, and in a far corner Jones-Evans +was laying ten to one on the House in muffins. But a bit of good luck is +capable of making a side play in a totally different spirit, and the +combined Buller's and Claremont's side started off like a whirlwind. +Livingstone kicked off, and the outhouse scrum was on the ball in a +minute. For a second the House pack was swept off its feet, and during +that second Fitzgerald had dribbled to within ten yards of the line. +Foster made a splendid effort to stay the rush, and flung himself on the +very feet of the opposing forwards. But the check was only momentary; +the forwards rolled on, and it was only on the very line that Lovelace +rushed across, and falling on the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</a></span> ball, held it to him, till the House +forwards had time to come round. But the rules lay down that a player, +as soon as he has fallen on the ball, must get off it at once. Lovelace +realised that if he did so, a try would be inevitable. He hung on like +grim death, praying that the referee would not see. Before half the +House forwards had formed round, the whistle blew.</p> + +<p>"Free kick to the School. You musn't lie on the ball like that, +Lovelace." The referee was not blind.</p> + +<p>Anxiously the House lined up and waited for the kick. Livingstone had +converted nearly every goal on the Colts' games the term before. It was +a trying moment. He seemed to take hours placing the ball correctly. +There was an absolute hush as he ran up; then a great sigh, half of +relief, half of disappointment, burst from the touch-line. The ball rose +hardly six feet from the ground, and sailed harmlessly towards the +School House line. And then Turner made a mistake that he cursed himself +for ever afterwards. All that was necessary to do was to let the ball +bounce, and then touch down. But as the ball sailed towards him, Turner +was suddenly possessed with the longing to do something brilliant. He +was last man on the list, and had only been put into the side at the +last moment, owing to another forward stopping out. It was not +unnatural. He caught the ball.</p> + +<p>"You blasted fool," yelled out Richards, "for God's sake find touch."</p> + +<p>Turner lost his head. He gave a mild punt down field, and before the +House had realised what was happening, Wilkinson had caught the ball, +and dashed over the line between the posts. This time Livingstone made +no mistake. 8-3.</p> + +<p>For the next five minutes the House side was entirely demoralised. +Nothing went right. The forwards did not keep together. Gordon cursed +foully, and only made matters worse. Lovelace's kicks only found touch a +few feet down the line. Richards rushed up and down fuming, and upset +everyone. It was due only to a miracle and some fine work by Foster that +the School did not score at least three times. Foster did everything +during those awful minutes. Rush after rush he stopped, just as +Fitzgerald<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</a></span> was looking dangerous, and he brought down his fly-half +every time. Gordon was amazed at his performance; he had always rather +looked down on him before. He had never imagined he was so plucky.</p> + +<p>But it takes more than two unexpected tries to throw a School House side +off its balance for long. Soon the forwards began to reassert +themselves. Burgess the wing three-quarter, a self-satisfied member of +Buller's, who was in VI. B, and whose conceit far excelled his +performances, got away and began to look dangerous. But Gordon came up +behind him. He loathed Burgess, and flinging aside all the Fernhurst +traditions about collaring low, he leapt in the air, and crashed on top +of him. Burgess collapsed like paper. A great howl went up from the +School House. New life seemed to enter into the side. The grovel flocked +round, and Collins, heaving Burgess off the ball with a flying kick, +dribbled the ball to the half-way line. A scrum formed up and from the +heel Richards got the ball to Lovelace, who broke through the defence +and with a clear field ahead made for the line.</p> + +<p>"Run like hell!" shouted Simonds from the touch-line. He was standing on +the masters' side of the ground, just in front of the Chief's wife. But +he was past caring about social etiquette. All he wanted was to see the +House ahead once more. "Faster, man, run—oh, damn!"</p> + +<p>Just on the line the ubiquitous Livingstone caught him up, and the pair +rolled into touch. If, as some say, there is nothing much finer to watch +in football than an uphill fight, then the Thirds of 1913 was most +certainly the greatest game ever played on the Lower. Lighter and slower +than their opponents, the House kept them on the defensive for the rest +of the afternoon. Collins was a splendid sight, his hair fell in a +cascade over his eyes, his nose was bleeding, his jersey was torn half +off his back, but he did not care. His feet were everywhere, and anyone +who got in his light was sorry for it. Turner, with the thought that he +was the cause of Wilkinson's try, fought heroically. Once when +Williamson, a Claremont's forward, began to dribble, he rushed into him +sideways and with a "soccerbarge" knocked him flying into touch, and +took the ball back inside the twenty-five. It was a great fight.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</a></span> But no +one can strive successfully against the will of the gods, and certainly +the stars in their courses fought against the House. Ten minutes before +time Livingstone, who had been systematically starved the whole game, +got a pass about the half-way line. He was the fastest man in the field. +No one could touch him; he made straight for the corner flag, and scored +amid the tumultuous applause of Buller's. There could be no doubt about +the result now. Before the eyes of Jones-Evans there rose a prospect of +eternally treating outhouse men to muffins. Mansell swore violently. +"The Bull" walked up and down the touch-line beaming with delight. +Simonds was silent.</p> + +<p>"Well, you men," said Richards, "we've been beaten, but by heaven we'll +shove them the last few minutes. Go for them, tooth and nail."</p> + +<p>The House did so. In hall that night Burgess announced that there was +not a single gentleman in the School House, a remark which resulted in a +rather unpleasant half-hour with "the Bull" two days later. For these +last minutes produced one of the most glorious charges of the day. From +the twenty-five right in to the School half, the ball was carried. +Nothing could stop that wild rush. Livingstone and Wilkinson went down +before it, but they were passed by. Burgess made a half-hearted attempt +to fall on the ball, but did not get up for several seconds, and the +House was well in the School half when Gordon kicked a little too hard +and the School back, fielding the ball, managed to find touch. But the +House was still undaunted. From the line out, the ball was flung to +Richards, who, putting his head down, literally fought his way through +the scrum and tottered out the other side. He handed off Wilkinson, +dodged the fly-half, and made for the centre of the ground. Livingstone +came across at him. "With you, Richards," yelled Lovelace.</p> + +<p>As Livingstone brought Richards crashing to the ground, the ball was +safely in Lovelace's hands. Lovelace was about half-way between +mid-field and the twenty-five. He ran a few yards, steadied himself, and +took a drop.</p> + +<p>In deadly silence the School watched the flight of the ball. It sailed +high and straight towards the goal. "It's over," murmured the Chief +excitedly. But as the ball<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</a></span> neared the posts it travelled slower, a +slight breeze caught it, blew it over to the right. It hit the right +post and fell back into play. As the full-back returned it to mid-field +the whistle blew for no-side.</p> + +<p>"School, three cheers for the House!" shouted Livingstone.</p> + +<p>"House, three cheers for the School!" responded Richards.</p> + +<p>And then everyone poured over the ropes on to the field.</p> + +<p>"Never mind, you men," said Simonds; "it was a damned fine show and +better than fifty wins."</p> + +<p>The House was proud of its side. As the Fifteen trooped across the +courts on the way to the changing-room the House lined up by the chains +of the Sixth Form green, and cheered them.</p> + +<p>"Well played, Caruthers!" shouted someone.</p> + +<p>It was Gordon's first taste of real success.</p> + +<p>That night there was a big feed in No. 19. They were all out of training +for three days; and they made the most of it. During the last fortnight +they had been allowed only fruit between meals.</p> + +<p>"It's the finest performance since I've been in the House," Mansell +declared. "Meredith's Two Cock wasn't in it. Their side was twice as +strong on paper, and my Lord, we gave it them."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Lovelace, "and you wait till this side is the Three Cock; +there'll be a bit of a change then."</p> + +<p>"You're right there," shouted Mansell. "We sha'n't pull it off this +year, nor the year after that; but you wait and see what'll happen in +1915. That's the year when the House will revive the great days of Ross. +My lads, we sha'n't regret the lean years when the years of plenty come; +and the Three Cock Cup is back on the old oak sideboard. Our day will +come."</p> + +<p>That night Gordon dreamt of the great future that was opening out for +the House; and he was thankful that he would see it. Like the runners in +the torch race many would have prepared the way for victory; but it was +to him and his friends that the glory of the final triumph would belong. +For he would win the race: he would carry home the torch.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_III_TIN_GODS" id="CHAPTER_III_TIN_GODS"></a>CHAPTER III: TIN GODS</h2> + + +<p>After this match a new phase in Gordon's life may be said to have begun. +He had for the first time felt what it was to be really successful. When +he had got his Colts' cap the world had seemed at his feet; but it was +nothing to what he experienced now. For he had borne the brunt of the +House's battle. He had played a principal part in a wonderful +achievement. The House looked on him as one of its chosen defenders. He +was in the limelight, and he had no intention of ever drifting out of +it. When we have experienced the really great, the things that pleased +once charm no more. After basking in the blaze of a summer afternoon +there is something poignantly pathetic in watching the amber beams of a +December sun filter through the trees. Gordon had his fingers on the +pedestal of fame, and he intended never to loose his grasp. His position +had been obtained by brilliant football, and if he had been able to +retain it in the same way all would have been well. But the gods willed +it otherwise.</p> + +<p>It was generally admitted that the House stood no chance of winning the +Two Cock, and when the House agreed on its own defeat, prospects were +certainly very gloomy. So Gordon only interested himself in his own +performances. He began to wonder if there was any chance of his getting +a place in the Three Cock. Simonds was undoubtedly pleased with him, and +Henry, the only forward senior to him, had been doing rather badly +lately. In the trial games he played with a mad enthusiasm. On the +Friday evening the Two Cock side was posted. He was above Lovelace and +Richards. Henry was only one above him.</p> + +<p>Just before lunch on the day of the match Mansell came up to him.</p> + +<p>"I say, I have got some good news for you."</p> + +<p>"What is it?" Gordon was feverish with impatience.</p> + +<p>"Well, I don't think I had better tell you."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Oh, I say, do; don't be a swine."</p> + +<p>"No, I don't think I shall; it would make you too bucked with life." +Mansell smiled at him kindly. Gordon was rather annoyed.</p> + +<p>But on the way down to hall, he overheard Mansell talking to Tester in +the door of the changing-room.</p> + +<p>"Simonds is going to play Caruthers in the Three Cock instead of Henry, +if he plays at all decently to-day," Mansell was saying.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I am glad of that," Tester answered. "He's a good kid."</p> + +<p>The earth swayed dizzily as Gordon made his way down to hall. He did not +feel at all nervous. He was quite certain of himself. The day was bound +to end with him a member of the House Fifteen. All he had to do was to +play his average game. Mansell had said so.</p> + +<p>As he stepped on to the field, he was perfectly aware of his own +personality. He did not feel a sort of spectator, as he had done in the +Thirds. It was all so clear. He even smiled at Tester as he lined up.</p> + +<p>But a Two Cock is very different from a Thirds. Men from Christy's were +playing who were shining lights on Senior Leagues, and who would easily +have got their Seconds if they had tried, but who, because they were in +Christy's, did not take the trouble. Christy's should have beaten +Buller's, but they were too slack to go into proper training, and in +spite of the brilliance of Dyke and Pemberton, Buller's won by six +points after being ten points behind at half-time. As individuals, +however, Christy's were a formidable lot, and when combined with +Buller's formed a much heavier and larger side than any Gordon had +played against before. He was not very large, and was used to Junior +Leagues. For an hour he was swept off his feet. He could not keep pace +with the game. He was flung from one position into another; he followed +after the scrum; he felt like a new boy playing for the first time. At +half-time Simonds came up thoroughly fed up with life. The score was +fifteen-nothing.</p> + +<p>"For heaven's sake, Caruthers, get in and shove, if you can't do +anything better. You haven't done a thing the whole game."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</a></span></p> + +<p>The game was a nightmare. Mansell looked at him curiously that evening +at tea.</p> + +<p>Gordon muttered something about a kick on the head, and being unable to +see anything.</p> + +<p>On Sunday evening a list of those in training for the Three Cock was put +up. There were ten forwards down. Gordon was bottom on the list; both +Henry and Collins were above him. In the football world his claim to +fame for the moment faded away. If he was to remain in the public gaze, +he would have to attract attention some other way.</p> + +<p>And so, at the most critical point in the development of his character, +Gordon began all unconsciously to seek for new ways of making himself +conspicuous. He did not know what he was doing. If someone had told him +that he was doing absurd things merely to get talked about, he would +have laughed. But all the same, it would have been true. His preparatory +schoolmaster said of him once: "There is some danger of his becoming the +school buffoon." At his prep, the boys were too closely looked after and +kept down for any one person to become pre-eminent at anything. And so a +subconscious love of notoriety drove Gordon on to play the fool for a +whole term most damnably.</p> + +<p>It was during the end of the Easter and the whole of the summer term +that Gordon earned a reputation for reckless bravado and disregard of +all authority that stuck to him through his whole career. Up till now he +had done things merely because he had wanted to. He followed the +inclination of the moment, but now it was different. It is pleasant to +be talked of as a mixture between Don Juan and Puck; and Gordon was +sufficiently good at games to make himself an attractive and not a +repulsive figure. The Public School boy admires the Meredith type; he +despises the man who is no good at games, and who plays fast and loose +in his house. Gordon was not unpopular, and indeed some of his escapades +were really funny, as, for instance, when he cut through the string of +the chapel organ on which a weight is attached to show whether the organ +is full of air or not. The next morning in chapel the choir began but +the organ was mute. The hymn broke off<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</a></span> into a miserable wail. The whole +service was one silent ripple of merriment. Rogers was taking the +service, and was quite at sea without the help of music. Gordon earned a +considerable measure of notoriety for the performance. On his way to the +tuck shop, Ben, the captain of the Fifteen, came up and spoke to him.</p> + +<p>"Caruthers, I say, are you the man who made the organ mute?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"By Jove, you are a sportsman."</p> + +<p>Gordon was thus encouraged to continue on his road to buffoonery, and +when the summer term came, he found no reason to pursue any other +course. On the cricket field he could not get a run; first he hit +wildly, then he began to poke; but all without the least success. After +a few weeks he almost ceased to try, except in House matches. "The Bull" +got furious.</p> + +<p>"Look here, Caruthers," he said, "I don't know if you are slack, or +merely incompetent. But when I see you make fifty against my house in a +Junior House match, and then play inside half-volleys on the upper, I +begin to think all you care about is your house. Don't you care for +Fernhurst, boy?"</p> + +<p>Gordon was genuinely worried about this. He admired "the Bull" +immensely: indeed, "the Bull" was about the only person at Fernhurst +whose opinion he valued at all. He made strenuous efforts to get runs, +but it was no use. He was clean out of form. His fifty <i>v.</i> Buller's was +his only score during the season, but "the Bull" did not know this. He +thought Caruthers tried for his house and slacked with the Colts. The +climax was reached during the Milton Match. Gordon went in first with +Foster. In five minutes he and Lovelace and a man from Claremont's were +out for four runs. "The Bull" chewed grass in a far corner of the field.</p> + +<p>And then, to crown everything, Gordon missed the easiest of catches. He +caught Lovelace's eye. It was really rather funny. The two of them burst +into sudden laughter. Lovelace was nearly doubled up. "The Bull" thought +they were laughing at him.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I can't think what's gone wrong with Caruthers this term," he said to +Fry, the captain of the School House. "He was so promising once; he +doesn't seem to be trying this term."</p> + +<p>Next day Gordon was left out of the Colts' side. The day after the chair +in Trundle's class-room suddenly collapsed. The leg had been sawn half +through, and Trundle fell over on the floor.</p> + +<p>Gordon was riding for a fall, and two days before Commemoration, to use +his own phrase, he "fairly put his foot in it." This term he had a +double dormitory with one Davenport, a scholar who was a year junior to +Gordon; but was in the same form. The Chief had thought Gordon a bit big +for the Nursery, but there was no room for him down below; so he and +Davenport lived at the end of the passage in glorious isolation. It was +a great luxury; they were allowed several privileges; they could keep +their light on till ten; they could go to bed when they liked, and it +was here that they usually did their preparation. Davenport, however, +suddenly contracted measles; and Gordon, who had grown too slack to do +his work alone, used to get leave for Sydenham, a rather insignificant, +self-righteous member of V. A, who had come a term before him, to come +and prepare his work in the double room. Leave was always granted, and +when Davenport returned, the scheme was still continued. On this +particular night, Davenport had got a headache. He said he was going to +stop out next day, and refused to prepare Thucydides. It also happened +that the House tutor was away that night, and so the Chief went round +the dormitories, putting out the lights. He did not know of the custom +by which Sydenham came up to do the con. He was not very pleased, but +after a little hesitation gave leave. The door was shut. Sydenham +perched himself on the chest of drawers, Gordon produced an aid to quick +translation, Davenport turned over the pages of <i>Nash's</i>. The Abbey +bells also happened to be ringing that night. It was quite impossible to +hear any normal sound down the passage; and so Gordon was quite unaware +of the Chief's intention to revisit them and see if they were really +working, till the door opened and the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</a></span> Chief walked in. Gordon lost his +head; he sat up in bed and gaped. Thucydides lay on one side of the bed, +the crib on the other.</p> + +<p>The Chief picked up the book.</p> + +<p>"Ah, does Mr. Macdonald allow you to use this?"</p> + +<p>In the really dramatic moments of our lives it is always the inane that +first suggests itself. It was so likely that Macdonald would have given +them permission.</p> + +<p>"No, sir."</p> + +<p>"Er, Davenport, are you preparing—er yes, Thucydides with Caruthers, +too?"</p> + +<p>"No, sir." Davenport thanked heaven that he had a headache. He had +helped in the work of deceit every night the whole term. The Chief +thought he must be a boy of strong moral courage; and in many ways he +was, but cribbing, after all, was part of the daily routine.</p> + +<p>The Chief took up the book.</p> + +<p>"Sydenham, go back to your study."</p> + +<p>He turned down the light and went out. His footsteps died out down the +passage.</p> + +<p>"Damn!" said Gordon.</p> + +<p>"<i>In excelsis gloria</i>," said Davenport.</p> + +<p>"And it was a rotten crib, too," said Gordon.</p> + +<p>By next morning the story was all round the school.</p> + +<p>"You will be birched for certain," was Tester's cheerful comment, "and +serve you right for getting caught."</p> + +<p>"I sha'n't be such a fool again," growled Caruthers.</p> + +<p>And certainly he profited by his experience. A year later the House +Tutor came into his study when he was preparing Vergil with the aid of +Dr Giles' text. He put a piece of blotting-paper over the crib, and +chatted for a few minutes quite easily about the chances of the Eleven +<i>v.</i> Tonford.</p> + +<p>But when we are in trouble, there are few of us who can see so far ahead +as to feel thankful at the thought that we have learnt something that +will be a help to us in the future. Gordon was thoroughly fed up. But it +was not his game to show his feelings. He went about laughing as though +nothing had happened at all; he treated the whole thing as a colossal +joke. Sydenham was, however, very nervous, and showed it. Gordon ragged +him mercilessly.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</a></span></p> + +<p>"My good man, what the hell does it matter? Chief's not much of a +bircher, and don't gas about disgrace, and such muck. This isn't a St +Winifred's sort of school. It will only mean a bad report."</p> + +<p>In School that day Gordon was in great form. By the end of the morning +he had accumulated in all three hundred lines from various sources for +ragging.</p> + +<p>"That man, Caruthers, is some fellow," said Ferguson to Simonds at +lunch. "He looks as if he enjoyed being in rows."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps he does," was the answer. "He is certainly always doing his +best to get into them. But he is in for a birching this time."</p> + +<p>But Simonds was wrong. The Chief was too utterly fed up to do anything; +moreover, he saw that a birching would do Gordon no good. He would only +boast about it.</p> + +<p>It was not until a week later that Gordon was called up before the +Chief.</p> + +<p>"Caruthers, I want to know where you got hold of that crib."</p> + +<p>As a matter of fact he had obtained it by means of Rudd, who had a large +stock of such articles, and let them out on loan for the term. It was a +paying business. Gordon, of course, could not divulge this.</p> + +<p>"I got it in the holidays, sir."</p> + +<p>The Chief was surprised and shocked at this. He could quite easily +understood that a boy should buy a crib at some second-hand bookshop in +the town, during term time, when surrounded with the general atmosphere +of Public School dishonesty; but it did seem unnatural that a boy, while +living in the clean surroundings of his home, should be scheming to +cheat his fellows and masters. The Chief said as much; Gordon did not +quite follow him. Besides everyone cribbed.</p> + +<p>"What I can't understand, Caruthers," the Chief went on, "is that you +always assume a tremendous keenness on the School and House, of which +you give absolutely no proof in your actions except on the field. This +is the second time I have had to speak to you on this subject. Do you +imagine that the good reputation of the House depends<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</a></span> solely on its +performance in the Thirds, or that of the School on its number of +victories in School matches?"</p> + +<p>Gordon thought it did. But he knew that "Yes" was hardly the answer the +Chief expected. He held his peace. It was no use arguing the subject.</p> + +<p>When he came out of the study, he met Rudd palpitating with funk.</p> + +<p>"You didn't say anything about my lending you that crib, did you?" Rudd +was very frightened of the Chief.</p> + +<p>"Of course not, you bloody-looking fool. The best thing you can do is to +go and get me a better crib with all possible speed, my friend. And mind +it's a decent one. The last one was rotten; and I can't do without one. +I was bottled yesterday."</p> + +<p>In three days Rudd's agent from town had procured him a fine edition of +the Sicilian expedition. Davenport and Gordon did some superb construe +during the remainder of the term.</p> + +<p>It is, of course, very easy to run down any existing system; and the +Public School system has come in for its fair share of abuse. Yet it +must be remembered that no one has yet been able to devise a better. And +after all, for the average man it is not such a bad training. It is +inclined to destroy individuality, to turn out a fixed pattern; it +wishes to take everyone, no matter what his tastes or ideas may be, and +make him conform to its own ideals. In the process, much good is +destroyed, for the Public School man is slack, easy-going, tolerant, is +not easily upset by scruples, laughs at good things, smiles at bad, yet +he is a fine follower. He has learnt to do what he is told; he takes +life as he sees it and is content. So far so good. With the average +individual the system is not so very unsatisfactory.</p> + +<p>But take the case of the boy who has it in him to be a leader, who is +not merely content to follow, but wishes to be at the head, in the +forefront of the battle. What of him? Gordon went to Fernhurst with the +determination to excel, and at once was brought face to face with the +fact that success lay in a blind worship at the shrine of the god of +Athleticism. Honesty, virtue, moral determination—these mattered not at +all. The author of <i>Eric</i> and such others who have never faced, really +faced, life and seen what it is,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</a></span> talk of the incalculable good one boy +can do, who refuses to be led astray by temptations, and remains true to +the ideals he learnt in the nursery. If there does come into any school +such a boy, he is merely labelled as "pi," and taken no notice of. He +who wishes to get to the front has to strive after success on the field, +and success on the field alone. This is the way that the future leaders +of England are being trained to take their proper place in the national +struggle for a right and far-sighted civilisation. On this alone the +system stands condemned. For the history of a nation is the history of +its great men, and the one object of the Public School is to produce not +great men, but a satisfactory type.</p> + +<p>Gordon found that, as soon as he was recognised as a coming athlete, +popularity was his, and that on the strength of his physical abilities +he could do pretty well what he liked. For there is no strong feeling in +schools on the subject of honesty and morality. And it is not unnatural +that a boy, finding that no one will object if he follows the call of +pleasure, drifts with the stream. And then Gordon went off suddenly at +games, as the best athlete must at some time or other. Like many others, +he loved popularity and fame. So, in order to keep in the limelight, he +flung aside all pretences of conscience, and got the reputation of being +"the devil of a sport"—a reputation that is a passport to Public School +society, but is damning to any man's character. Only a few realise this. +Betteridge was one. He was not an athlete, but was clever and in the +Sixth. He enjoyed a rag, but saw the difference between liberty and +licence. He was a freethinker, and saw life with a wide vision that +embraced the whole horizon.</p> + +<p>"Look here, Caruthers," he said one evening, during hall, in the last +half of the summer term, "I don't want to say anything; but you know you +are making a most awful ass of yourself."</p> + +<p>"What do you mean?"</p> + +<p>"You know quite well what I mean. I don't think it's your fault; it is +the fault of this rotten system under which we live. You are not what +you were when you first came. Of course, it is natural to crib and fool +about, but you are going a bit far. One day you will be captain of this +House. You'll be sorry then."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Oh, don't be a damned ass, Betteridge, preaching to me. I know what I +am doing. It's not long that I shall have to enjoy myself. I shall be in +the Sixth soon, and shall have to slow down then. But at present I shall +do damned well what I like. After all, what does it matter if I do rot +all day and muck about generally? It makes no difference to you or the +House. It's my own damned business, and besides, everyone else does it!"</p> + +<p>It was useless to reason with him. The argument that "others do it" is +impossible to combat. And, after all, environment is what counts, and it +is a fairly dangerous environment with which to surround any but the +average sensual being who eats, drinks, laughs and is merry, and never +thinks at all. And yet masters are surprised when they find the big man +whom they thought impregnable following the accepted customs. They say: +"What a pity! A fine fellow gone to the dogs, and after all we've done +for him, too!" and yet whose fault is it?</p> + +<p>But this is by the wayside. For better or for worse the character of +Gordon Caruthers was developing on its own lines. Criticism should be +withheld till the last threads are woven, and we can judge of the +complex whole.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>The summer term was drawing to a close. It had not been very successful +as far as Gordon was concerned. His cricket had frankly been a failure, +and the prominence he had gained in his House hardly compensated for the +misgivings with which the Chief and Buller regarded his future. It +seemed as if he could not help running up against "the Bull."</p> + +<p>A-K was knocked out of the Senior House competition at once. They drew +Christy's and were beaten by an innings. Gordon made eleven and fifteen, +and was missed three times while making them. Foster, however, got a +very sturdy thirty-three not out, and took three wickets. He got his +House cap. Gordon was furious, and swore that he was jolly well not +going to try any more that term.</p> + +<p>During the final senior he was strolling round the field with Tester, +both of them in cloth suits, unchanged for games. "The Bull" came up +behind them.</p> + +<p>"Caruthers, why aren't you changed this afternoon?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Well sir, we only had a House game this afternoon, so Tester and I got +leave off to watch the match."</p> + +<p>"But your House is not playing in it."</p> + +<p>"No, sir."</p> + +<p>"Well, then, what on earth do you mean by slacking about the field like +this? It's your duty to be training yourself too, so that some day you +may be of some use to Fernhurst, and here are you slacking about, +instead of asking the pro. to give you a net. Slackness! filthy +slackness! I don't know what's wrong with you this term; you were quite +keen once."</p> + +<p>He strolled off, scratching the back of his head. "The Bull" always did +this when in a bad temper.</p> + +<p>"Poor old chap," murmured Tester, "he takes these little things so much +to heart. He loathes me because I don't sweat myself to death all day at +the nets. He never said anything to me; he has given me up as a bad job. +Poor old chap!"</p> + +<p>"Well, I suppose we ought to have been at the nets," said Gordon.</p> + +<p>"If we did everything that we ought to do in this world, we should never +have a moment's time to do the things we liked."</p> + +<p>"I suppose so," said Gordon, "but still, you know—oh, well, what the +hell does it matter? By Jove, well hit, Dyke!"</p> + +<p>The conversation turned again to the match.</p> + +<p>Next term Gordon had arranged to have a study with Lovelace. Tester was +going to be a prefect, and wanted to himself the big upstairs study that +Clarke had had. Gordon was staying in No. 1.</p> + +<p>He was not sorry. He did not quite understand Tester; he was too clever, +and Gordon never knew exactly what he was driving at. Lovelace, on the +other hand, was his best friend; they had played together in several +sides, and next term Lovelace would captain the footer Colts. The future +seemed very roseate. Moreover, he was certain to get into the Sixth, and +that meant many privileges. He did not have to attend rolls, he could be +late for tea, there was no need for him to get leave to speak to anyone +in hall. It meant many study hours, and it would also bring him into<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</a></span> +contact with the Olympians. There was Garter, who had been in the Sixth +four terms, and was in the Second Fifteen. He would meet Betteridge. +There was Rudd to rag. Prothero had reduced his time-table to one hour +in school a day, and was an authority to consult on any subject +regarding avoiding work. Davenport would be promoted, too. Gordon's day +of power was beginning to dawn. Next term he would be distinctly a House +blood. It was a ravishing thought.</p> + +<p>One evening in exam. week Hunter announced casually after tea: "I say, +do you remember Betteridge talking once about a man called Ferrers? +Well, he is coming here as a master next term."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Lord, is he really?" said Fletcher. "I suppose he will be full of +rotten new theories, and he will probably want to make us work."</p> + +<p>"Well, I always give a master a good fortnight's trial before I do any +work for him," said Tester; "at the end of that, I usually find his +keenness has worn off. I bet he will be the same as all the rest."</p> + +<p>"I doubt it," said Betteridge; "he is a man."</p> + +<p>"Well, whatever he is, he is going to have no effect on me," said +Gordon, with a finality that quite closed the question.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IV_THROUGH_A_GLASS_DARKLY" id="CHAPTER_IV_THROUGH_A_GLASS_DARKLY"></a>CHAPTER IV: THROUGH A GLASS DARKLY</h2> + + +<p>As often as not, it is mere chance that provides the most essentially +important moments in our lives. It is easy to talk of the inevitable +march of Fate, but more usually a chance word or look alters our entire +outlook on life. And so it was that the course of Gordon's whole career +was suddenly changed into a different channel, at a moment when he was +drifting placidly on the stream of a lax conventionality, and was +frittering away all his opportunities for sheer lack of anything that +would spur him on to a clearer conception of what life means.</p> + +<p>During the whole of the term, Tester and Gordon had done their early +morning preparation on the V. A green.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</a></span> As they had answered their names +at roll, they would take out deck-chairs and cushions and luxuriously +pass the three quarters of an hour before breakfast reclining back, +putting the finishing touches to the evening's work. It is a very +beautiful spot, the V. A green. On three sides it is flanked with +buildings; on the fourth is a low wall, which is used as an exit for +nocturnal expeditions. It was under the V. A class-room that Gordon and +Tester put their chairs. Opposite them was the grey library; beyond rose +the Abbey, solemn and austere; on the left was the chapel and the long +cloister leading to big school. In the early morning a great hush +pervaded the place. The only sound was the faint tolling of the +Almshouse bell. Between the Abbey and the library the sun rose in a +blaze of glory.</p> + +<p>On the last morning of the term Gordon and Tester lolled back in their +comfortable chairs. Gordon was trying to learn his rep. for the exam. +that morning. Tester was reading <i>The Oxford Book of English Verse</i>; the +exams for the Sixth were over.</p> + +<p>"Oh, damn this," said Gordon. "I can't learn the stuff."</p> + +<p>He flung the book down, and lay back watching the first rays of the sun +flicker on the cold bronze of the Abbey.</p> + +<p>"This has been a rotten term, you know," he said at last.</p> + +<p>"Yes?" said Tester. He was engrossed in poetry.</p> + +<p>"Well, I got into the deuce of a row with Chief, and I never got my +House cap, and I've broken it off with Jackson."</p> + +<p>Tester put down his book and sat up.</p> + +<p>"Caruthers, you know you are wasting your time. Here are you with all +your brilliance and your personality worrying only about House caps and +petty intrigues, and little things like that. What you want to realise +is that there is something beyond the aim of a Fernhurst career. You are +clever enough; but poetry and art mean nothing to you."</p> + +<p>"Oh poetry, that's all right for Claremont and asses like that, but +what's the use of it?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, use, use! Nothing but this eternal cry about the use of a thing. +Poetry is the sort of beacon-light of man. What's wrong with you is that +you've read the wrong stuff.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</a></span> It is all very well for a middle-aged man +to worship Wordsworth and calm philosophy. But youth wants colour, life, +passion, the poetry of revolt. Now look here, let me read you this, and +then tell me what you think of it."</p> + +<p>"Oh, all right. Is it long?"</p> + +<p>"No, not very."</p> + +<p>In a low, clear voice, Tester began to read the great spring Chorus in +<i>Atalanta</i>, into which Swinburne has crowded all that he ever knew of +joy and happiness. In everyone there lies the love of beauty—"we needs +must love the highest when we see it"—but the pity is that so few of us +are ever brought face to face with the really lovely, or perhaps, if we +are, we come to it too late. Our power of appreciation has lain too long +dormant ever to be aroused. And at school it is the common thing for +boys to pass through their six years' traffic without ever realising +what beauty is. They are told to read Vergil, Tennyson and Browning, the +philosophers, the comforters of old age, poets who "had for weary feet +the gift of rest." But boys never hear of Byron, Swinburne and Rossetti, +men with big flaming hearts that cried for physical beauty and the +loveliness of tangible things. As a result they drift out into the +world, to take their place with the dull, commonplace Philistine who has +made the House of Commons what it is.</p> + +<p>But as Gordon heard Tester reading the wonderful riot of melody, which +conjures up visions of rainbows, and far-receding sunsets, of dew +gleaming like crystals in the morning, of water gliding like forgotten +songs, a strange peace descended on him. He had not known that there +could be anything so intensely beautiful. Over the great Abbey the sun +was rising heavenwards; down the street past the Almshouses he heard the +happy sound of a young girl laughing. The world was full of strange new +things; there was a new meaning in the song of the blackbird, in the +rustle of the leaves, in the whispering of the warm wind. And suddenly +there came over him a sensation of how far he himself was below the +splendour of it all. He had walked through life with blinded eyes; with +dulled senses he had stared at the ground, while all the time the great +ideal of beauty was shining from the blue mountains of man's desire.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</a></span></p> + +<p>Tester had finished reading.</p> + +<p>"Well what do you think of it?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, it's wonderful. I never dreamt of such music."</p> + +<p>"Yes, you see, masters grow old; they forget what it was like to be +young; they want us to look at life through their spectacles, and, of +course, we can't. Youth and age is an impossible combination; we have to +cut a way for ourselves, Caruthers, sometimes we fail, sometimes we +succeed. I've made a pretty fair mess of things, because I have gone on +my own way; because I have had no one to guide me. I found little +consolation in mature thought, and I am not one of the fools who has +just taken things for granted; I strike out by myself. I want to find +what beauty really is, and I shall find it by sifting out everything +first. I have probed a good many things one way and another, some ugly, +some beautiful. I have followed the course of Nature. After all, Nature +is more likely to be right than an artificial civilisation. I follow +where my inclinations lead me. I hate laws and regulations. As I've +often said, I did not ask to come into this world, so I shall do as I +please, and I think that I shall reach home all right in the end. +Literature is a great sign-post!"</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Gordon simply. "I never imagined it before. Who wrote that, +by the way?"</p> + +<p>"Swinburne, the great pagan who was sick of the sham and pretence of his +day, and cried for the glories of Rome. Look here, Caruthers, come down +to Gisson's afterwards, and as a memento of our year together in Study +1, just let me give you Swinburne's <i>Poems and Ballads</i>. It's great +stuff; you'll like it, and you'll find there something a bit better than +your caps and pots."</p> + +<p>Gordon did not answer. The sun had now risen high above the Abbey. +Across the silence was wafted the cracked notes of the School House +bell; there was a rush of feet from the studies. For a few minutes +Gordon lay back in his chair quite quiet. A new day had broken on his +life. The future opened out with wide promises, with possibilities of +great things. For he had heard at last the call which, if ever a man +hears it, he casts away the nets and follows after—the call of +beauty—"which is, after all, only truth, seen from another side."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="BOOK_III_UNRAVELLING_THE_THREADS" id="BOOK_III_UNRAVELLING_THE_THREADS"></a>BOOK III: UNRAVELLING THE THREADS</h2> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"... and drank delight of battle with my peers."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Tennyson.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Yet would you tread again<br /></span> +<span class="i2">All the road over?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Face the old joy and pain—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Hemlock and clover?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yes. For it still was good,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Good to be living,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Buoyant of heart and blood;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Fighting, forgiving."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Austin Dobson.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Oh! the hardest day was never then too hard."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Lindsay Gordon.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_I_COMMON_ROOM_FACES" id="CHAPTER_I_COMMON_ROOM_FACES"></a>CHAPTER I: COMMON ROOM FACES</h2> + + +<p>Miracles do not happen, nor do sudden conversions. Man very rarely +changes. What he is at the beginning, he is at the end; all that occurs +is that at various stages of his journey he looks at life from a +different point of view, or rather through a different pair of +spectacles, for never on this earth do we really see things as they are. +When Gordon found new influences at work upon him, when he discovered +through literature that there is something higher than the ignoble +monotony of the average individual routine, he did not suddenly change +his whole way of life, and, "like a swimmer into cleanness leaping," put +out of sight behind him the things that had pleased him once. Right and +wrong are merely relative terms. What was considered right in the days +of Cæsar spells social ostracism to-day. And there are a few who prefer +to see life as the Romans saw it, and to follow the ideals of power and +physical beauty. For such life is not easy. Yet we are not so much +better than "when Cæsar Augustus was Egypt's Lord!" The question of what +is really right and what is really wrong will never be satisfactorily +decided, on this<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</a></span> earth at any rate, for we cannot all wear the same +spectacles for long. Temperament is all-powerful.</p> + +<p>And Gordon made no attempt to settle the question. He did not suddenly +feel a loathing for his former pleasures, but during the long summer +holidays, as he bathed in the waters of English poetry, it seemed to him +as if he had outgrown them, and cast them aside. Perhaps in the future +they might momentarily appear beautiful once more, but he did not think +that he would ever again wear them for very long, for they were, after +all, little, insignificant, trivial, and contrasted poorly with the +white heat of Byron's passion, and the flaming ardour of Swinburne, that +cried for "the old kingdoms of earth and their kings." As he read on, +while the summer sun sank in a red sea behind the gaunt Hampstead firs, +read of the proud, domineering soul of Manfred, visualised the burst of +passion that had prompted the murder in <i>The Last Confession</i>, felt the +thundering paganism of the <i>Hymn to Proserpine</i>, he was overcome with a +tremendous hatred for the system that had kept literature from him as a +shut book, that had offered him mature philosophy instead of colour and +youth, and tried to prevent him from seeking it for himself. So this is +the way, he thought, the youth of England is being brought up. Masters +tell us to fix all our energies on achieving school successes, and think +of calf-bound prizes and tasselled caps all day long. No wonder that, if +they bind us down to trivial things, we become like the Man with the +Muck-Rake, and drift on with low aims, with nothing to help us to live +differently from cattle. No wonder the whole common room is repeatedly +shocked by the discovery of some sordid scandal.</p> + +<p>Gordon's soul was very arrogant and very intolerant, and it was rather +unfortunate that, at a time when he was bubbling over with rebellion, +Arnold Lunn's novel, <i>The Harrovians</i>, should have been published, as no +previous school story had done it stripped school life of sentiment, and +a storm of adverse criticism broke out. Old Harrovians wrote to the +papers, saying that they had been at Harrow for six years, and that the +conversation was, except in a few ignoble exceptions, pure and manly, +and that the general atmosphere was one of clean, healthy +broadmindedness.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[Pg 136]</a></span> Gordon fumed. What fools all these people were! When +they were told the truth, they would not believe it. Prophets must +prophesy smooth things, or else were not prophets. How was there ever +going to be any hope of improvement till the true state of affairs was +understood?</p> + +<p>And then a sudden doubt came to Gordon. What if these old Harrovians +were right? What if this man Lunn had depicted the life of the +exceptional, not of the average boy? What then of Fernhurst? He had +judged the book by his own experiences. Was it possible that his school +was worse than other schools, and what was usual there, would be +exceptional at Rugby, Eton and Winchester? He had been so proud of +Fernhurst, with its grey cloisters and dreaming Abbey, with its +magnificent Fifteen and fine boxers. He had cursed at the Public School +system because he thought it had done harm to Fernhurst. What if +Fernhurst and not the system were at fault? For several days this +worried him.</p> + +<p>One evening, however, during the last week of the holidays, a Mr Ainslie +came to dinner. He had been a contemporary of Lunn's at Harrow, and had +himself been head of his house for two years. The conversation had +drifted to a discussion of recent books: <i>The Woman Thou Gavest Me</i>, +<i>Sinister Street</i>, <i>The Devil's Garden</i>, <i>Round the Corner</i>.</p> + +<p>"By the way, Gordon," said Ainslie, "read that book, <i>The Harrovians</i>?"</p> + +<p>"Oh yes, sir."</p> + +<p>"What did you think of it?"</p> + +<p>"I liked it very much—thought it was the finest school story I had ever +read." Gordon felt rather nervous. He was aware that he was on thin ice, +and timidly blurted out: "But, sir, was it true to Harrow life?"</p> + +<p>"Absolutely; and it's as true to the life of any other Public School. +They are all much the same, you know, at the root."</p> + +<p>An immense weight was lifted from Gordon's mind.</p> + +<p>"I thought so, sir, but such a lot of fellows wrote to the papers saying +it was all rot, and I began to wonder if——"</p> + +<p>"My dear Gordon, don't you make any mistake about it. Lunn knows what he +is talking about. But old Public School<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</a></span> men shroud their school life in +a mist of sentiment; so they forget what they really did. All they +remember is how they ragged the 'stinks' master, and pulled off the +Senior cricket cup. Why, when that new house master—oh, what's his +name, Lee? Well, at any rate, when he came to Lunn's house he was slowly +getting rid of undesirables for terms, actually for terms. Cayley was +not the only one who had to go, and, of course, no one thought of +anything but games. I got a schol. there from my prep., and I literally +had to live it down. It took me some time, too. We want a good deal of +improvement in this rusty old system."</p> + +<p>So after all it was the system that was at fault, not Fernhurst.... +Fairly contentedly he went back by the three-thirty from Waterloo; but +as he saw the evening sun steeping the gravel courts in shadows, and +watched the lights flickering behind the study panes, it came home to +him with a poignant vividness that Fernhurst, which should have been a +home of dreams and of ideas, had, by the inefficiency of a vacillating +system, become immersed in petty intrigues, and was filled with a +generation that was being taught to blind itself to the higher issues.</p> + +<p>But in a moment he was caught up in the tear and bustle of an opening +term. There was the rush to the notice-board to see what dormitory he +was in, who were the prefects; then the hurried interview with the +Chief, and the inevitable Health certificate. The meeting of the +eight-ten from Exeter; prayers; the arrival of the last train; and +finally sleep. The hold of tradition is very strong; in a few moments +Gordon had flung aside his doubts and scruples. Arm-in-arm with Collins +he rolled down to the day-room to look at the new boys. There were +twelve of them in all, very frightened, very timid, huddled round the +day-room fire, wondering what was before them.</p> + +<p>"Well, Caruthers, what do you think of that lot?" said Collins, as they +swaggered back again to the studies.</p> + +<p>"Oh, not much; that fellow second from the left was not bad. What's his +name, oh yes, Morcombe. Believe me, he is some stuff."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I thought him rather a washed-out specimen, but, I say, that fat +fellow looks rather a sport. You know, the man like a dormouse."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Oh yes, that podgy lad. Morgan, he is Welsh, I know about him. He was +captain of the prep, last year at football—not a bad forward, I +believe. Oh, but there's Lovelace—Lovelace."</p> + +<p>"Hullo, Caruthers."</p> + +<p>In a huge brown coat, Lovelace charged across from the porter's lodge. +"Had any cricket? What price Middlesex—below Hants, rotten county—you +should watch Leicester now."</p> + +<p>"Oh, dry up, Middlesex has had bad luck this year." The defeat at Lord's +by Worcester and Kent in the same week was a sore point with Gordon.</p> + +<p>"Oh, did they? I call them rotten players. But, look here, who are +pres?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, Tester, Betteridge, Clarke, Mansell, all the whole crowd."</p> + +<p>"Good God, 'some' pres! Wait a sec. for me. I am only going to see Chief +for a second. I am going to get confirmed, I think. I heard you get off +some work for it. Half a sec."</p> + +<p>Back to the old life again. Nothing was changed. The same talk, the same +interests, all the old things the same. Only he was altered. He felt as +if he wanted to stand on the Abbey tower, and shout aloud that the +School was wasting its opportunities, and was struggling blindly in the +dark, following will-o'-the-wisps. And yet, for all that, he would not +have Lovelace, or Mansell or any other of his friends the least bit +different. He did not know what he wanted. It was better to let them go +on as they were. As it had been, it would be. He could not do much, and +at the moment he decided that, whatever he might think or feel, he would +outwardly remain the same. The world was not going to look at his soul. +He would go on as he had begun, putting things behind him as he outgrew +them, and as they appeared childish to him. Only a very few should ever +see him as he really was. The rest would not understand him, they would +think him strange, unnatural; and he did not want that.</p> + +<p>The first few days passed quickly. The entrance of Ferrers, the new +master, into the placid Fernhurst atmosphere caused a mild sensation. +The school first saw<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</a></span> him walking across the courts after the masters' +meeting on the first day of term. His walk was a roll; he talked at the +top of his voice; his left arm sustained a pile of books; his right arm +gesticulated wildly.</p> + +<p>"Good Gawd," said Tester, "what a bounder."</p> + +<p>"Maybe, but he's the sort of man to wake up the school," said +Betteridge.</p> + +<p>"Isn't it rather like applying a stomach-pump to a man who is only fit +for a small dose of Eno's Fruit Salt?"</p> + +<p>"<i>Nous verrons.</i>"</p> + +<p>And in the bustle of a new term Ferrers was forgotten.</p> + +<p>Gordon was in the Sixth, and its privileges were indeed sweet. He felt +very proud as he sat in the same room with Harding, a double-first, and +head of the House, and with Hazelton, the captain of the House. Though +it was an ordeal to go on to "con" before them, it was very magnificent +to roll down to the football field just before the game began without +attending roll.</p> + +<p>"I say, Caruthers," Lovelace would yell across the changing-room, "do +buck up; it's nearly twenty-five to three, and roll is at a quarter to."</p> + +<p>"I don't go to roll," came the lordly answer.</p> + +<p>And he felt the eyes of admiring juniors fixed on him. It was sheer joy, +too, to wear the blue ribbon of the Sixth Form and to carry a +walking-stick; to stroll into shops that were to the rest of the school +out of bounds; to go to the armoury and the gym. after tea without a +pass. But it was in hall that the new position meant most.</p> + +<p>While the rest of the house had to stay in their studies and make some +pretence of work, he would wander indolently down the passage and pay +calls. When he paused outside a study he heard the invariable sound of a +novel flying into the waste-paper basket, of a paper being shoved under +the table, or a cake being relegated to the window-seat. Then he came +in.</p> + +<p>A curse always greeted him.</p> + +<p>"Oh, damn you, Caruthers, I thought it was a prefect. Foster, hoist out +that cake; we were just having a meal."</p> + +<p>He now had the freedom of studies that had before been to him as holy +places. Where once Clarke had dealt out justice with a heavy hand, +Tester and he sat before the fire<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</a></span> discussing books and life. In the +games study, where once he trembled before the rage of Lovelace major, +he sat with Carter in hall preparing Thucydides. Steps would sound down +the passage, a knock on the door.</p> + +<p>"Come in," bawled Carter.</p> + +<p>"Please, Carter, may I speak to Smith?" a nervous voice would say. No +one could talk without leave from a prefect during hall.</p> + +<p>"Yes; and shut the outer door," Carter answered, without looking round. +The prefectorial dignity seemed in a way to descend on Gordon; just then +life was very good. But there were times when he would feel an +uncontrollable impatience with the regime under which he lived. One of +these was on the second Sunday of term. It was Rogers' turn to preach, +and, as always, Gordon prepared himself for a twenty minutes' sleep till +the outburst of egoistic rhetoric was spent. But this time, about +half-way through, a few phrases floated through his mist of dreams and +caught his attention. Rogers was talking about the impending +confirmation service. With one hand on the lectern and the other +brandishing his pince-nez, as was his custom when he intended to be more +than usually impressive, he began the really vital part of the sermon.</p> + +<p>"In the holidays there appeared as, I am sorry to say, I expect some of +you saw, a book pretending to deal with life at one of our largest +Public Schools. I say, pretending, because the book contains hardly a +word of truth. The writer says that the boys are callous about religious +questions and discuss matters which only grown-up people should mention +in the privacy of their own studies, and still more serious, the purport +of the book was to attack not only the boys but even the masters who so +nobly endeavour to inculcate living ideas of purity and Christianity. I +am only too well aware when I look round this chapel to-night—this +chapel made sacred by so many memories—that nearly every word of that +accusation is false. Yet perhaps there are times—in our mirth, shall we +say?—when we are engaged in sport, or genial merriment, when we are +inclined to treat sacred matters not with quite that reverence that we +ought. Perhaps——"</p> + +<p>Rogers prosed on, epithet followed epithet, egotism and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[Pg 141]</a></span> arrogance vied +with one another for predominance. The school lolled back in the oak +seats and dreamt of house matches, rags, impositions, impending rows. At +last the Chief gave out the final hymn. Into the cloisters the school +poured out, hustling, shouting, a stream of shadows. Contentedly Rogers +went back to his house, ate a large meal, and addressed a little homily +to the confirmation candidates in his house on the virtues of sincerity.</p> + +<p>"What a pitiable state of mind old 'Bogus' must be in," sighed Tester, +when the scurry of feet along the passage had died down kind of quiet, +and he and Gordon were sitting in front of a typically huge School House +fire.</p> + +<p>"I don't think I should call it a mind at all," muttered Gordon, who was +furious about the whole affair. "The man's an utter fool. When he is +told the truth he won't believe it, but stands there in the pulpit +rambling on, airing his rotten opinions. Good God, and that's the sort +of man who is supposed to be moulding the coming generation. Oh, it's +sickening."</p> + +<p>"Well, my good boy, what more can you expect? The really brilliant men +don't take up schoolmastering; it is the worst paid profession there is. +Look at it, a man with a double-first at Oxford comes down to a place +like Fernhurst and sweats his guts out day and night for two hundred +pounds a year. Of course, the big men try for better things. Rogers is +just the sort of fool who would be a schoolmaster. He has got no brain, +no intellect, he loves jawing, and nothing could be more suitable for +him than the Third Form, the pulpit, and a commission in the O.T.C. But +perhaps he may have a few merits. I have not found any yet."</p> + +<p>"Nor I. But, you know, some good men take up schoolmastering."</p> + +<p>"Oh, of course they do. There is the Chief, for instance, a brilliant +scholar and <i>the</i> authority on Coleridge. But he is an exception; and +besides, he did not stop an assistant master long; he got a +headmastership pretty soon. Chief is a splendid fellow. But I am talking +of the average man. Just look at our staff: a more fatuous set of fools +I never struck. All in a groove, all worshipping the same rotten tin +gods. I am always repeating myself, but I can't help it.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[Pg 142]</a></span> Damn them all, +I say, they've mucked up my life pretty well; not one of them has tried +to help me. They sit round the common room fire and gas. Betteridge +swears Ferrers is a wonderful man; personally, I think he is an +unmitigated nuisance. But at any rate, he is the only man who ever +thinks for himself. Oh, what fools they all are."</p> + +<p>For the rest of the evening Gordon and Tester cursed and swore at +everyone and everything, and on the whole felt better for having got it +off their chests. At any rate, next day Gordon was plotting a rag on an +enormous scale with Archie Fletcher; and in a House game assisted in the +severe routing of Rogers' house by seventy-eight points to nil. It takes +a good deal to upset a boy of fifteen for very long. And the long +evenings were a supreme happiness.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>It must be owned that during hall Lovelace was rather unsociable. It was +not that he studied Greek or Latin; he had a healthy contempt for +scholastic triumphs; horse-racing was the real interest of his life. +"This is my work," he used to scoff, brandishing <i>The Sportsman</i> in +Gordon's face. "I am not going to be a classic scholar, and I sha'n't +discover any new element, or such stuff as that. I am going on the turf. +This is my work."</p> + +<p>For an hour every evening he laboured perseveringly at "his work" with +form books, <i>The Sportsman</i>, and huge account books. For every single +race he chose the runners, and laid imaginary bets; each night he made +out how much he had lost or made; and it must be confessed that if he +had really laid money on the horses, he would most certainly have done a +good term's work. By Christmas he was one hundred and seventeen pounds +up. This pursuit, of course, rather militated against his activities in +the class-room; but, as he said, "It was only Claremont, the old +Methuselah—and they had a damned good crib." Lovelace did his work from +seven to eight, and during this time Caruthers, who seemed to be in the +happy condition of never having any work to do at all, wandered round +the studies. And during his peregrinations many who had been to him +before merely units in a vast organisation detached themselves from the +rest, and became to him living characters; especially was this so with +Foster. He had played<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</a></span> with Foster for two years in the Colts and in A-K +sides, but there had never been anything in common between them; their +interests had been far apart; neither stood for anything to the other. +But now, when Gordon found himself frequently dropping into Foster's +study for half-an-hour or so, he realised how many qualities Foster had. +Foster was strong-willed, obstinate almost, quite regardless of +tradition, in his own way slightly a rebel, and a past master in the art +of deceiving masters. There are two ways of making a master look a fool: +one is by introducing processions and coloured mice; the other by bowing +before him, making him think you are hard-working and industrious, and +all the while laughing at him behind his back. Gordon preferred the +former, because he had the love of battle; but Foster held to the second +method, in its way equally effective, and anyone who shook a spear +against authority was sure of sympathy from Gordon.</p> + +<p>It was a great sight to see Foster bamboozle Claremont. With the +greatest regularity Foster was ploughed in his con., failed to score in +Latin prose, and knew nothing of his rep. And yet he never got an +imposition. He would point out how hard he worked; he often stayed +behind after school for a few seconds to ask Claremont a point in the +unseen. Such keenness was unusual, and Claremont could not connect it +with the slovenly productions that he had learnt to associate with the +name of Foster. For a long time it was a vast enigma. At half term +Foster's report consisted of one word, typically +Claremontian—"Inscrutable." But manners always win in the end. Foster +showed so much zeal, such an honest willingness to learn, that Claremont +finally classed him as a hard-working, keen, friendly, but amazingly +stupid boy. The Army class, which Foster honoured with his presence, +always did Latin and English with Claremont, and for over two years +Foster sat at the back of Claremont's room, scoring marks by singles +when others scored by tens. Yet his reports were invariably good; he +never had an imposition; he never needed to prepare a line of anything.</p> + +<p>"Well, Foster," Claremont used to say, as he returned a prose entirely +besmirched with blue pencil, "I believe you really try, but the result +is most disheartening."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[Pg 144]</a></span></p> + +<p>Foster always looked profoundly distressed; and at the end of the hour +he would go up, prose in hand, and ask why the subject of an active verb +could not be in the ablative. Two minutes later he would emerge with a +broad grin on his face, and murmur to whoever might be near that +Claremont was "a most damnable ass, but none the less a pleasant +creature." And in the evening hall he and Gordon would discuss how one +or other of them had advanced a step further into the enemy's country, +and taken one more pawn in the gigantic game of bluff. They were both in +their own fashion working to the same end.</p> + +<p>But at this point the serene calm of Gordon's life was suddenly rudely +interrupted by an incursion on the part of "the Bull." About three weeks +after the term had begun the Colts played their first game, and like +most sides at the beginning of a season, they were terribly +disorganised. Lovelace, who had been in under-sixteen teams for years, +was the Senior Colts badge and was captain. Burgoyne led the scrum; he +was a rough diamond, if indeed a diamond at all, and was not too popular +with the side. Foster was scrum half; Collins and Gordon were in the +scrum. It was really quite a decent side, but this particular afternoon +it started shakily. "The Bull" raged so madly and cursed so furiously +that the side became petrified with funk, and could do nothing right.</p> + +<p>Once and only once did the Colts look like scoring, and then Lovelace +knocked on the easiest pass right between the posts.</p> + +<p>"Never did I see anything like it," bellowed Buller. "For eighteen years +I have coached Fernhurst; and before that I coached Oxford and +Gloucestershire; and I am not going to stand this. Lovelace, you are not +fit to be captain of a pick-up, let alone a school Colts side. Burgoyne, +skipper the side. Now then, two minutes more to half-time; do something, +Colts."</p> + +<p>The Colts did do something. They let the other side score twice. At +half-time Buller poured forth a superb torrent of rhetoric. And suddenly +there came over Gordon an uncontrollable desire to laugh. "The Bull" +looked so funny, with his hair ruffled, and his eyes flaming with wrath. +Gordon had to look the other way, or he would<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[Pg 145]</a></span> have burst into paroxysms +of laughter. When one is overexcited and worried, hysteria is not far +absent. Gordon turned away.</p> + +<p>Then suddenly he felt a terrific assault on his backside. Someone had +booted him most fiercely, and turning round he saw the face of Buller +still more distorted with rage.</p> + +<p>"Never saw such rudeness! Here am I trying to coach the rottenest side +that has ever disgraced a Fernhurst ground, and you haven't the manners +to listen to me. Good man, are you so perfect that you can afford to pay +no attention to me? For heaven's sake, don't make your footer like your +cricket, the slackest thing in the whole of Fernhurst. Come on, we'll go +on with this game."</p> + +<p>For ten more minutes "the Bull" watched the Colts making feverish +endeavours to do anything right. But his powers of endurance were not +equal to the strain.</p> + +<p>"Here," he shouted, as Harding was going up to change after +superintending a pick-up, "you might referee for about ten more minutes +here, will you? I can't bear the sight of the little slackers any +longer."</p> + +<p>A sigh of relief went up as the figure of Buller rolled out through the +field gate. Strangely enough, the Colts did rather better after this, +and Collins scored a really quite fine try. But the side left the field +glowing with resentment. None more than Gordon and Lovelace.</p> + +<p>"What does the fool mean by making a little ass like Burgoyne captain?" +complained Gordon. "Dirty little beast, who does not wash or shave. And +he hacked me up the bottom, too, the swine. I'm getting a bit sick of +'The Bull.'"</p> + +<p>"So am I. What we really want is my brother back again. He kept him in +order all right. My brother was a strong man, and did not stand any rot +from Buller or anyone else."</p> + +<p>"Hullo, you two, you look about fed up! What's the row?"</p> + +<p>They turned round; Mansell was coming up behind them. Lovelace burst out +perfervidly:</p> + +<p>"It's that fool Buller. He cursed the Colts all round, and he made +Burgoyne captain instead of me, and he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[Pg 146]</a></span> hacked Gordon's bottom, and told +him he had no manners. Believe me, we have had a jolly afternoon."</p> + +<p>"And I suppose he said that he had captained Oxford, Cambridge, New +Zealand and the Fiji Islands, and that in his whole career he had never +seen anything like it."</p> + +<p>"Oh yes, he fairly rolled out his qualifications, like a maid-servant +applying for a post."</p> + +<p>"Oh, well, never mind," said Mansell; "he is a good chap, really, only +he can't keep his temper. He'll probably apologise to you both before +the end of the day. I remember Ferguson said once: 'All men are fools +and half of them are bloody fools.' Not so bad for Ferguson that! Cheer +up!"</p> + +<p>"Yes; but, damn it all, it is a bit thick," said Lovelace. "And a tick +like Burgoyne to boot."</p> + +<p>As they were changing, a fag from Buller's made a nervous entry; he +looked very lost, but finally summoned up enough courage to ask +Davenport if he knew where Caruthers was.</p> + +<p>"Yonder, sirrah, lurking behind the piano."</p> + +<p>The fag came up.</p> + +<p>"Oh—I say—er—Caruthers. 'The Bull'—er, I mean Mr Buller wants to see +you as soon as you are changed."</p> + +<p>"Right," said Gordon.</p> + +<p>"I said so," said Mansell; "he will weep over you and shake your hand +like a long-lost brother; and after you will follow Lovelace, who will +once more lead the lads with white jerseys and red dragons to victory +against Osborne. Good-bye; you needn't stop, you know," he informed the +fag, who was giving a stork-like performance, by gyrating first on one +foot then on another.</p> + +<p>"That means I shall miss my tea," said Gordon.</p> + +<p>"I fear so," answered Mansell. "I don't really think you can expect 'the +Bull' to receive you with crumpets and muffins and other goodly +delights. Of course to-morrow is Sunday; you might manage to work a +supper-party, but don't rely on it. Come and tell me the result of your +chat; you will find me in my study; don't knock; just walk in; you are +always welcome."</p> + +<p>As Gordon walked across the courts to Buller's study he had not the +slightest doubt as to how the interview would<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[Pg 147]</a></span> end. "The Bull" was often +like this. Only yesterday Foster had told him some long yarn of how he +had beaten a lad in Christy's and had hit his hand by mistake; and to +kick a person was, after all, a far more undignified method of assault. +It was almost actionable. Quite contentedly he knocked on the door and +went in. He was not, however, welcomed with open arms. "The Bull" stood +with his back to the door, facing the fireplace, his hands behind his +back. He did not speak for a minute or so. Gordon wondered if it would +be correct to take a chair. "The Bull" broke the silence.</p> + +<p>"Well, Caruthers, are you sorry for what happened this afternoon?"</p> + +<p>This took Gordon by surprise: it was hardly the interview he had been +led to expect. He murmured "Yes, sir" rather indistinctly.</p> + +<p>"Are you, though? Because if you are going to come in here and say you +are sorry, when you are not, simply to smooth things over, you would be +a pretty rotten sort of fellow."</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir." Gordon had recovered his self-control and was ready for a +fight.</p> + +<p>"Well, this is the way I look at things. I am here to coach Fernhurst +sides; it is my life's work. I love Fernhurst, and I have devoted all my +energy and care to help my old school, and it seems to me that you are +trying—you and Lovelace between you—to ruin my work and stand in my +light. Both of you as individuals are well worth your places in both +under-sixteen sides, football and cricket. As individuals, I say; and +you think you are indispensable to the side, and that we can't do +without you. You can afford to laugh when you miss catches, and not pay +attention to me when I am trying to give you the benefits of my +experience."</p> + +<p>"I heard every word——"</p> + +<p>"Will you kindly wait till I have finished. Fernhurst has done very well +in the past without you and Lovelace, and five years hence it will have +to do without you, and I am not going to have you interfere with the +present. You hate me, I dare say; from all I hear of you, you hate my +house; and you stir up sedition against me. You show the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[Pg 148]</a></span> others how +much you care for me. And you are both people who have some influence in +your house, and wherever you are, for that matter. And are you using it +for the good of Fernhurst? You ruined all my pleasure in the cricket +Colts; but I don't care about myself. All I care for is Fernhurst. Why +did I stop Lovelace being captain? Because I want a man who is going to +back me up, who is going to play for the side and not for himself. And I +tell you I am going to drop Lovelace; he plays for himself; he gives +rotten passes; he upsets combination; and I won't have him on my side."</p> + +<p>Gordon could stand it no longer.</p> + +<p>"Sir, I am not going to hold a brief for myself. But you have not +treated Lovelace fairly. Last year on a trial game you kicked him out of +the side, only to find in a week that you could not do without him. And +to-day, sir, on a trial game you deposed him from the captaincy."</p> + +<p>"Do you mean to say that after playing Rugby football for twenty-five +years I don't know what I am talking about?"</p> + +<p>Gordon saw he had said too much.</p> + +<p>"And I am not talking about his play, I am talking about his general +attitude. Now, didn't you two rag about a good deal at the nets last +term?"</p> + +<p>"Well, sir, it was hardly ragging, sir——"</p> + +<p>"Oh, hardly ragging.... There must be no ragging.... If we are going to +turn out good sides we must be in dead earnest the whole time. You +imagine you are loyal to Fernhurst. My old sides followed me implicitly. +I loved them, and they loved me. We worked together for Fernhurst; now, +are you doing your best for Fernhurst?"</p> + +<p>Gordon was overwhelmed. He wanted to tell "the Bull" how mistaken he +was; that he and Lovelace did not hate him at all; that they were doing +their best; but that their sense of humour was at times too strong. But +it was useless. "The Bull" would not give him a chance. And he had +learnt from Mansell and Tester that "the Bull" could only see one point +of view at a time. And yet he was filled with an immense admiration for +this man who thought only of Fernhurst, who had worked for Fernhurst all +his life, who made Fernhurst's interests the standard for every +judgment<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[Pg 149]</a></span> and action. There was something essentially noble in so +unswerving a devotion. If only his love of Fernhurst had not made him so +complete an egoist.</p> + +<p>"Well, what is it to be, Caruthers?" Buller went on. "Are you going to +work with me or against me? When you first came you were keen and +willing. You are still keen, but you think too much of yourself now; you +imagine you know more than I do. Is all this going to stop? Are we going +to work together?"</p> + +<p>There was nothing to be gained by arguing.</p> + +<p>"Sir, I shall do my best to."</p> + +<p>"Well, I hope so, Caruthers. It is not for my own sake I mind; you see +that, don't you? It is Fernhurst that matters. We must all do our best +for Fernhurst. I hope we sha'n't have any more trouble, you will be a +power in the school some day, we must work together—for Fernhurst."</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir."</p> + +<p>Gordon walked to the door; as he put his hand on the knob he paused for +a second, then turned round.</p> + +<p>"Good-night, sir."</p> + +<p>"Good-night, Caruthers."</p> + +<p>He was out in the street again. There was a tremendous noise going on in +one of the Buller's studies. From the courts came sounds of barge +football. He did not feel as if he wanted to go and discuss everything +with Mansell for a minute or so. Slowly he wandered round the shrubbery, +past the big school, past the new buildings into the Abbey courtyard. He +sat down on a seat and tried to think. A girl came and sat beside him +and smiled at him invitingly. He took no notice. She sat there a minute +or so, then got up and walked off stiffly. The Abbey clock boomed out +the quarter to six. In a minute or so he would have to go back to tea. +He was worried. He liked "the Bull," admired him intensely; and yet "the +Bull" thought he hated him, thought him disloyal. Why could not Buller +keep his temper? Why must he rush to conclusions without weighing the +evidence? And "the Bull" was such a splendid man; he was one of the very +few masters Gordon respected in the least. He wanted "the Bull" to like +him. And then there was Lovelace. Why couldn't "the Bull" try to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[Pg 150]</a></span> see +life as Lovelace saw it? Why must he want everyone to share the same +views as he, look at everything through the same spectacles? It wouldn't +have mattered if he was merely an insignificant busybody like Christy. +He was such a splendid fellow, such a man. It was all such a pity. And +yet he realised that he would have to try and bend his will to that of +Buller; he must endeavour to work side by side with him. It would not do +to have Fernhurst split up into two camps. In the past he had thought he +was doing his best; but "the Bull" wanted absolute subservience. And +what "the Bull" wanted he usually got.</p> + +<p>Lovelace, however, took quite a different view. He was mad with Buller.</p> + +<p>"Damn it all, it is not the first time the swine has done the dirty on +me. Look at the way he kicked me out of the side last year."</p> + +<p>"I know, that's what I told him. And he owned that both of us as +individuals were worth our places, but that we upset the side and rotted +about, and were always up against him."</p> + +<p>"Silly ass the man must be. We are keen enough, aren't we? But I damned +well don't see why we should treat footer and cricket like a chapel +service. We can laugh in form if anything funny happens; then why the +hell shouldn't we laugh on the field? And, my God, Caruthers, you did +look an ass when you missed that catch." Lovelace roared with laughter +at the thought of it. "The way you juggled with it, and old Bull tearing +his hair, oh, it was damned funny."</p> + +<p>"But, you see, 'the Bull' thinks games are everything, and, damn it all, +they are the things that really matter. We each may have our own private +interests. But games are the thing. Only personally I don't see why we +should not see the funny side of them. To 'the Bull' a dropped catch is +an everlasting disgrace."</p> + +<p>"Oh, let 'the Bull' go to blazes, I am sick of him. If he wants to kid +me out of the Colts, he can; and I'll go and enjoy myself on House +games. But look here, there is a Stoics debate to-night and it's nearly +roll-time. You had better go down and bag two seats."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[Pg 151]</a></span></p> + +<p>The Stoics society was of elastic proportions, including everyone above +IV. A, for a life subscription of sixpence, and during the winter term +it held meetings every other week in the School House reading-room. The +actual membership was over a hundred, but rarely more than fifty +attended, and of those who went only fifty per cent. paid any attention +to the proceedings. The rest looked on it as a good excuse for getting +off work. Three quarters of the society were from the School House, and +these arrived with deck chairs, cushions and a novel, and thoroughly +enjoyed themselves. Christy was the president, and this was to a great +extent the reason for so general an atmosphere of boredom and +indifference. For Christy was the typical product of conventionality and +pharisaism. He was so thoroughly contented with anything he +superintended that he refused to believe any improvement was possible. +But this year Betteridge was honorary secretary and had tried to infuse +a little life into the society. The subject for the first debate of the +term was "Classical and Modern Education," and Ferrers was going to +speak for the modern side. Ferrers was always writing to the papers, and +was already well known in the common room as a feverish orator. A good +deal had been rumoured about him, and the school were rather anxious to +hear him. There was quite a large audience. At about twenty past seven +Christy came in, and everyone stood up till he had sat down. Burgess was +to open the debate for the classics, and Christy was to second him. +Ferrers and Pothering, the head of Claremont's, were for the moderns. +The debate was supposed to open at twenty past the hour. But Ferrers had +not arrived. There was an awkward pause. At last Christy got up.</p> + +<p>"I really think it is useless to wait any longer for Mr Ferrers. We will +proceed. The motion before the House is: That in the opinion of this +House a classical education is more efficacious than a modern one. I +will call on Mr Burgess to open the motion."</p> + +<p>There was a little clapping as Burgess got up with a customary display +of conceit. He ran his hand through his hair and took a glance at his +notes, and then began<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[Pg 152]</a></span> with the blasé air of Mercury addressing a +Salvation Army meeting.</p> + +<p>"Of course those in favour of modern education will defend themselves on +the grounds of general utility. They will point out the uselessness of +Greek in business; all I can say to that is that the Public School man +should be too much of a gentleman to wish to succeed in business. He +should aim higher; he should follow the ideals set before him by the +classics. Nearly all the poets and politicians of to-day are Public +School men; nearly all ..."</p> + +<p>He went on rolling off absurdly dogmatic statements that were based +solely on ignorance and arrogance. He was of the Rogers' school of +oratory. He believed that a sufficient amount of conceit and +self-possession would carry anyone through. About half-way through his +speech he was interrupted by the approach of a whirlwind. There was a +sound of feet on the stone passage, something crashed against the door, +and in rolled Ferrers in a most untidy blue suit, a soft collar, an +immense woollen waistcoat, and three books under his arm. These he +slammed on the table, in company with his cap.</p> + +<p>"Awfully sorry, Christy, old fellow ... been kept ... new lot of books +from Methuen's ... had to take one up to my wife ... rather ill, you +know.... Fire away, Burgess."</p> + +<p>All his remarks were flung off in jerks at a terrific rate. The abashed +orator concluded rather prematurely and rather wildly; such an incursion +was most irregular and very perplexing.</p> + +<p>"I will now call on Mr Ferrers to speak."</p> + +<p>Up leapt Ferrers and began at once firing off his speech at the pace of +a cinematograph. He was full of mannerisms. He would clap his hand over +his eyes when he wanted to think of something, and would then spread it +out straight before him. It was rather dangerous to get close. He would +pick up one of his books and shake it in the face of Christy.</p> + +<p>"This is what Mackenzie says ... in <i>Sinister Street</i> ... fine book ... +smashes up everything, shows the shallowness of our education ... this +is what he says...."</p> + +<p>After he had read a few words, he would bang the book down on the table +and continue pouring forth inextricable anacolutha. Everyone was +listening; they had never heard<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[Pg 153]</a></span> anything like this before. It was a +revelation. Christy chewed his finger-nails. Burgess assumed an air of +Olympian content. The flood of rhetoric rolled on:</p> + +<p>"It is like this, you see; the classical education makes you imitate all +the time ... Greek Prose like Sophocles ... Latin Verse like +Petronius.... I don't know if I have got the names right ... probably +not ... never could stick doing it. There is no free thought. Classics +men do very well in the Foreign Offices, but they can't think.... What +do classics do in the literary world? Nothing. Bennett, Lloyd George, +Wells—the best men never went to a Public School.... We want +originality; and the classics don't give it. They are all right for a +year or so to give a grounding of taste ... though they don't give that +to the average boy ... but no more. What did I learn from +classics?—only to devise a new way of bringing a crib into form.... Is +that an education? No, we want French, jolly few cribs to be got of +Daudet that are any use to the Lower Fifth ... Maths, that's the stuff +... makes them think.... Riders ... get them out your own way—not +Vergil's way or Socrates' way—your own way—originality...."</p> + +<p>In this strain he talked for a quarter of an hour, and held the audience +spellbound. He had really interested them. Here was something new, +something worth listening to. He was received with a roar of clapping.</p> + +<p>After his speech everything else fell flat. Christy made one or two +super-subtle remarks which no one understood. There was nothing left for +Pothering to say; the motion was then put before the House and the +debate developed into a farce. Idiot after idiot got up and made some +infantile qualification of an earlier statement—all of them talked off +the point. So much so, in fact, that Turner was beginning a tale of a +fight he had had with a coster down Cheap Street when Christy called him +to order.</p> + +<p>Gordon at once rose in protest.</p> + +<p>"Gentlemen, I address the Chair. It is preposterous that Mr Turner +should have been refused a hearing. We may have lost what would perhaps +have thrown new light on the subject. Doubtless he had carefully +selected this particular anecdote out of a life, alas, too full of +excitement"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[Pg 154]</a></span> (a roar greeted this, Christy had beaten Turner that very +morning for eating chocolates in German), "with the express view of +pointing out the superiority of the classics. Doubtless the rough in +question, not knowing the custom in Homeric contests, had failed to +propitiate the gods, while he, the narrator, had rushed into Back Lane +behind Mother Beehive's charming old-world residence, and having offered +a prayer to Mars, waited for his burly antagonist in the darkness, and +as the vile man, clearly one of St Paul's 'god haters'" (that time the +Sixth were reading the "Romans") "thundered by, he smote him with a +stone above the eye, and left him discomfited and, like Œdipus, well +nigh blind. Here we see——"</p> + +<p>But the meeting never found out what they really saw. Gordon was called +to order, and sat down amid a tumult of applause. One or two more +speakers brought fresh evidence to bear on the subject; and then there +was the division. The moderns won by a huge majority. As the rabble +passed into the passage Gordon heard Ferrers say to Christy in his most +patronising manner:</p> + +<p>"Rather wiped the ground with you, didn't we?... Well, never mind, you +stood no earthly.... Days of the classics are over. Still, you fought +well.... Third line of defence—<i>ad triarios</i>.... I remember a bit of my +classics."</p> + +<p>Gordon was borne out on the stream past the matron's room to the end of +the passage, and the rest of Ferrers's speech was lost.</p> + +<p>From this day the Stoics underwent a complete change. The whole nature +of the society was altered. Ferrers was so absolutely different from +anything that a master had appeared to be from time immemorial. He was +essentially of the new generation, an iconoclast, a follower of Brooke +and Gilbert Cannan, heedless of tradition, probing the root of +everything. At the end of the term Christy resigned his presidency. He +could not keep pace with the whirlwind Ferrers.</p> + +<p>"You know, Caruthers," said Tester in second hall, "whatever our +personal feelings may be, we have got to allow that this man Ferrers has +got something in him."</p> + +<p>"Something! Why, I thought him simply glorious.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[Pg 155]</a></span> Here he is bursting in +on the prude conventionality of Fernhurst full of new ideas, smashing up +the things that have been accepted unquestionably for years. By Jove, +the rest of the staff must hate him."</p> + +<p>"There was a thing by him in the <i>A.M.A.</i> the other day that caused +considerable annoyance, I believe. I didn't read the thing myself, but I +heard 'the Bull' saying it was disgraceful that a Fernhurst master +should be allowed to say such things. I suppose he said something +against games."</p> + +<p>"Well, damn it all, if he did, he is in the wrong. Games are absolutely +necessary. What on earth would the country be like without them?"</p> + +<p>"A damned sight better, I should think."</p> + +<p>"Oh, don't be an ass. Just look at the fellows who don't play games, +Rudd and Co. What wrecks they are! Utterly useless. We could do +perfectly well without them. Could not we now?"</p> + +<p>At this point Betteridge strolled in very leisurely. Authority had made +him a dignified person. The days of ragging Trundle seemed very distant. +He did not go about with Mansell so much now. He was more often with +Carter and Harding.</p> + +<p>"Betteridge, come in and sit down," said Tester; "we were arguing on the +value of games. Don't you agree with me that it's about time a man like +Ferrers made a sensible attack on them?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; though I doubt if Ferrers is quite the man to do it. He is such a +revolutionary. He would want to smash everything at once. A gradual +change is what is needed. I look at it like this. Games are all right in +themselves. A man must keep himself physically fit; but games are only a +means to an end. The object of all progress is to get a clear, +clean-sighted race, intellectual and broadminded. And I think physical +fitness is a great help in the production of a clear, clean mind. The +very clever man who is weak bodily is so apt to become a decadent; and +because he himself can't stand any real exertion, despises those who +can. Games are necessary as a means to an end. But Buller and all the +rest of the lot think games are the actual end. Look at the way a man +with his footer cap<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[Pg 156]</a></span> is idealised and worshipped. He may be an utter +rake; probably is, most likely he has no brains at all. If he ever had +them, he soon ceased to use them, and devotes all his energies to +athletic success. Why should we worship him? Merely because he can kick +a rotten football down a rotten field. It is this worship of athletics +that is so wrong."</p> + +<p>"Oh, you are talking rot," burst out Gordon angrily; "the English race +is the finest in the whole world and has been bred on footer and +cricket. I own the Public School system has its faults; but not because +of games. It stamps out personality, tries to make types of us all, +refuses to allow us to think for ourselves. We have to read and pretend +to like what our masters tell us to. No freedom. But games are all +right. We all have our own interests. Poetry is my chief one at present. +But that doesn't blind me to the fact that games are what count. Where +should we be without them? And I damn well hope the House is not going +to get into a finicky, affected state of mind, despising them because +they are too slack to play them. That's why you hate them, Betteridge, +because you are no good at them. My great ambition is to be captain of +this House and win the Three Cock. Of course the worship of sport is all +right. Our fathers worshipped it, and damned good fellows they were, +too. I can't stand you when you talk like this. I am going to find +Lovelace; he has got a bit of sense."</p> + +<p>The door slammed noisily behind him.</p> + +<p>"He is very young," said Betteridge.</p> + +<p>"Yes; and full of hopes," murmured Tester. "It is a pity to think he +will have to be so soon disillusioned. Very little remains the same for +long. Pleasure is very evanescent."</p> + +<p>Betteridge looked at him a little curiously.</p> + +<p>"I should not have thought you would have found that out," he said.</p> + +<p>Tester shrugged.</p> + +<p>"Oh, well, you know, even the fastest of us get tired of our licence at +times. Byron would have become a Benedictine monk if he had lived to be +fifty."</p> + +<p>Betteridge smiled, and picking up a Browning from the table sank into an +easy-chair to read.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[Pg 157]</a></span></p> + +<p>Tester remained looking into the fire. What a fool he had been to give +himself away just then. It was his great object never to let anyone see +into his soul. He had once shown Caruthers what he was, because he could +not bear to see a person of ability wasting himself for want of high +ideals. He had tried to show him that there was something above the +commonplace routine of life. And in a way he had succeeded. Caruthers +often came in in the evenings to discuss poetry with him, and those were +some of the happiest moments of his life. He was not sorry that he had +poured out his heart to him. Of course Caruthers was still young, was +still under the influence of environment. But in time he was sure to +realise that athletics were not the aim of life, but only a tavern on +the wayside, where we may rest for a little, or which we may pass by, +just as our fancy takes us. If Caruthers saw this at last, he would then +have done at least something not altogether vain.</p> + +<p>For, after all, what a useless life his had been. The road he had +travelled seemed white with the skeletons of broken hopes. In the +glowing coals he saw the pageant of his past unroll itself. He had never +been quite the normal person. His father was a minor poet, and for as +long as he could remember his house had been full of literary people. +Arthur Symons and George Moore had often discussed the relations between +art and life across his fireplace. Yeats had told him stories of strange +Irish myths; Thomas Hardy had read to him once or twice. He had spent +his whole life with men who thought for themselves, who had despised the +conventions of their day, and he himself had ceased to believe in +anything except what personal experience taught him. He had resolved to +find out things for himself. And what, after all, had he discovered? +Little except the vanity of mortal things. In his friendship with +Stapleton he had for a term or so found a temporary peace, but it had +not been for long. As soon as he achieved anything it seemed to collapse +before him. He had at times sought to forget his failures in blind fits +of passion, but when the fire was burnt out the old world was the old +world yet! In books alone he found a lasting comfort. The school looked +on him as "quite a decent chap, awfully fast, of course, doesn't care a +damn what he does, just lives to enjoy<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[Pg 158]</a></span> himself and have a damned good +time." He smiled at the irony of it all. If they only knew! But they +could never know. He had made a mistake in saying so much to Betteridge; +he must not do it again. He must go on probing everything to discover +where, if anywhere, was that complete peace, that perfect beauty that he +had set out to find. In the meantime the destiny of his life would +unfold itself. He would follow where his inclinations led him.</p> + +<p>The evening bell broke into his reverie.</p> + +<p>He stretched himself.</p> + +<p>"Come on, Betteridge. Let us have a rag to-night."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I don't think I will, I am rather sleepy." Betteridge was aware of +his position. To Tester being a prefect signified very little.</p> + +<p>That night Carter's dormitory was submitted to a most fearful raid. +Water flowed everywhere. Two sheets were ripped and a jug broken. Rudd's +bed was upset on the floor with Rudd underneath.</p> + +<p>"By Jove, Caruthers," said Lovelace, from Harding's well-behaved +dormitory, "that man Tester is some lad."</p> + +<p>And Gordon thought, as he saw him laying about him full lustily with a +pillow, that all his talk about games must be merely a damned +affectation. He was really like any ordinary fellow.</p> + +<p>When peace was at last restored, and he had led home his victorious +forces, Tester laughed quietly to himself, as he watched the moonlight +falling across a huge pool of water. He had played his part pretty well.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>For the rest of the term life flowed easily with Gordon. There were no +further rows with "the Bull"; in fact their row seemed, for a time at +any rate, to have brought them closer together. Both seemed anxious to +be friends with one another, and on the football field Gordon's play +gave really very little cause for complaint. For this term his football +reached his highest level. In following seasons he played good games on +occasions, but he never equalled the standard he set himself in the +Colts. It was one of Gordon's chief characteristics that he usually did +well while others failed, and this term the Colts for some reason or +other never properly got together. The side kept on being<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[Pg 159]</a></span> altered. For +a week after the row Lovelace was kept out of the side; but it was soon +obvious that his presence was absolutely necessary.</p> + +<p>"What did I say," said Gordon. "You see, 'the Bull's' madness doesn't +last for long. He got a bit fed up with you, Lovelace, so he made +himself imagine your football was bad. He can always make himself think +what he likes."</p> + +<p>"Yes; but it is rather a nuisance," Mansell remarked, "when you realise +it is always House men who have to do the Jekyll and Hyde business."</p> + +<p>"Good Lord! Mansell, you are becoming literary," laughed Gordon. "How +did you hear of Jekyll and Hyde?"</p> + +<p>"Claremont has been reading the thing on Sunday mornings; not so bad for +a fool like Stevenson. It rather reminded me of <i>The Doctor's Double</i>, +by Nat Gould; only, of course, it is not half so good."</p> + +<p>"No, that is a fact," said Lovelace. "Nat Gould is the finest author +alive. I read some stuff in a paper the other day about books being true +to life. Well, you could not get anything more true than <i>The Double +Event</i>; and race-horsing is the most important thing in life, too. I +sent up the other day for six of his books; they ought to be here +to-morrow."</p> + +<p>"Well, for God's sake, don't bring them in here," said Gordon, "there is +enough mess as it is with <i>The Sportsmans</i> of the last month trailing +all over the place."</p> + +<p>"Oh, have some sense, man; you don't know what literature is."</p> + +<p>Gordon subsided. All his new theories of art collapsed very easily +before the honest Philistinism of Lovelace and Mansell; for he was not +quite sure of his own views himself. He loved poetry, because it seemed +to express his own emotions so adequately. Byron's "Tempest-anger, +Tempest-mirth" was as balm to his rebellious soul. Rebellion was, in +fact, at this time almost a religion with him. Only a few days back he +had discovered Byron's sweeping confession of faith, "I have simplified +my politics into an utter detestation of all existing governments," and +he found it a most self-satisfying doctrine. That was what his own life +should be. He would fight against these<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[Pg 160]</a></span> masters with their +old-fashioned and puritanic notions; he would be the preacher of the new +ideas. It was all very crude, very impossible, but at the back of this +torrid violence lay an honest desire to better conditions, tempered, it +must be owned, with an ambition to fill the middle of the stage himself. +In his imagination he became a second Byron. He saw, or thought he saw, +the mistakes of the system under which he lived; and—without pausing to +consider its merits—wished to sweep away the whole foundation into the +sea, and to build upon some illusory basis a new heaven and new earth. +He had yet to read the essay in which Matthew Arnold says that "Byron +shattered, inevitably shattered himself against the black rock of +British Philistinism." He was at present full of hope. The Poetry of +Revolt coloured his imagination to such a degree that he saw himself +standing alone and triumphant amid the wreck of the world he had +overthrown. He was always protesting that Swinburne's finest line was in +the <i>Hymn to Proserpine</i>:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"<i>I neither kneel nor adore them, but standing look to the end.</i>"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>It raises a wonderful picture to a young imagination: Swinburne standing +on a mountain, looking across the valley of years in which man fights +feverishly for little things, in which nations rise to empire for a +short while, in which constitutions totter and fall, looking to where, +far away behind the mountains, flickered the faint white streamers of +the dawn. Oh, he was very young; very conceited too, no doubt; but is +there anyone who, having lived longer, having seen many bright dreams go +down, having been disillusioned, and having realised that he is but a +particle in an immense machine, would not change places with Gordon, and +see life once more roseflushed with impossible loyalties?</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>In its passage school life seems very long; in retrospect it appears but +a few hours. There is such a sameness about everything. A few incidents +here and there stand out clear, but, as a whole, day gives place to day +without differing much from those that have gone before it. We do not<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[Pg 161]</a></span> +realise this till we can look back on them from a distance; but it is +none the less true.</p> + +<p>In the Sixth Gordon's scholastic career took the way of all other +fugitive things. It had once given promise of leading somewhere, of +resulting in something, but it wanted more than ordinary perseverance to +overcome the atmosphere of the deep-rooted objection to work that +overhung all the proceedings in the Sixth Form room. And that +perseverance Gordon lamentably lacked.</p> + +<p>The Lower Sixth was mainly under the supervision of Mr Finnemore; and it +was a daily wonder to Gordon why a person so obviously unfitted should +have been entrusted with so heavy a responsibility. Finally he came to +the conclusion that the last headmaster had thought that the Sixth Form +would probably make less fun and take fewer liberties with him than any +other form, and that when the present Chief had come he had not had the +heart to remove a school institution. Mr Finnemore was an oldish man, +getting on for sixty, and his hair was white. He had a long moustache, +his clothes carried the odour of stale tobacco, his legs seemed hung on +to his body by hooks that every day appeared less likely to maintain the +weight attached to them. His face wore a self-depreciatory smile. He was +most mercilessly "ragged."</p> + +<p>The day when he took exams in big school will never be forgotten. Gordon +was then in V.A. The Sixth, the Army class and the Upper Fifth were all +supposed to be preparing for some future paper. All three forms had, of +course, nothing to do. The Chief was in London.</p> + +<p>At four-fifteen Finnemore was observed to be moving in his strange way +across the courts. With an almost suspicious quietness the oak desks +were filled.</p> + +<p>"What are you doing to-day, Lane?" Finnemore asked the head of the +school.</p> + +<p>"I believe, sir, we are supposed to be preparing something."</p> + +<p>"Ah, excellent; excellent, a very good opportunity for putting in some +good, hard work. Excellent! Excellent!"</p> + +<p>For about three minutes there was peace. Then Ferguson lethargically +arose. He strolled up the steps to the dais, and leaning against the +organ loft began to speak:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[Pg 162]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Gentlemen, as not only the Sixth Form, but also the Army class and +Upper Fifth, are gathered here this afternoon with no very ostensible +reason for work, I suggest that we should hold, on a small scale, a +Bacchic festival. This will, of course, be not only entertaining but +also instructive. 'Life consists in knowing where to stop, and going a +little further,' once said H.H. Monro. Let us follow his advice—and +that of the Greeks. First, let us shove the desks against the wall and +make ready for the dance."</p> + +<p>It had all been prepared beforehand. In a few minutes several hundred +books had been dropped, several ink-pots lay smashed on the floor. There +was a noise of furious thunder, and at last all the desks somehow got +shoved against the wall.</p> + +<p>Finnemore was "magnificently unprepared." He lay back nervously in his +chair, fingering his moustache.</p> + +<p>"This must now cease," he said.</p> + +<p>"No, really, sir" protested Ferguson; "everything is all right. Mr +Carter, will you oblige us by playing the piano. I myself will conduct."</p> + +<p>The floor of the big school is made of exquisitely polished oak, and is +one of the glories of Fernhurst. It was admirably suited for the dance +which within five minutes was in progress. It was a noble affair. +Finnemore sat back in his chair powerless, impotent; Carter hammered out +false notes on a long-suffering piano. Ferguson beat time at the top of +the dais, with a pen gently waving between his fingers, as gracefully as +the pierrots of Aubrey Beardsley play with feathers. Down below heavy +feet pretended to dance to an impossible tune. Someone began a song, +others followed suit, and before long the austere sanctity of the room +was violated by the flat melodies of <i>Hitchy-Koo</i>. It was indeed an act +of vandalism. But the rioters had forgotten that they were distinctly +audible from without. In the Chief's absence they had thought a row out +of the question.</p> + +<p>Unfortunately, however, "the Bull's" class-room was only a few yards +off. When first he heard the strains of revelling borne upwards he +thought it must be the choir practising for the Christmas concert. But +it did not take<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[Pg 163]</a></span> long for him to appreciate that such a supposition was +out of the question. The noise was deafening. He could hardly hear +himself talk; investigation must be made. He got up and walked out into +the courts, made his way to the big school, and opening the door +revealed the scene that has just been described. For a second or so he +stood speechless. He felt much as Moses might have felt, if he had seen +a tribe of Gentiles invading the Holy of Holies. Then his voice rang +out:</p> + +<p>"What is the meaning of this unseemly disturbance?"</p> + +<p>A sudden silence fell over the revellers, as in Poe's story of the red +death when the stranger entered the room.</p> + +<p>Buller looked around.</p> + +<p>"My form, the Army class, will follow me."</p> + +<p>Disconsolately his form found their books and moved out of the room, +fully aware that they would shortly have to pay full price for their +pleasure. Over the remainder there fell a chill feeling of uncertainty. +A few spasmodic efforts were made to carry on, but the light-heartedness +was gone. The laughter was forced. Finally noise subsided into +whispering, and whispering into silence and the scratching of pens.</p> + +<p>There loomed before the Sixth Form visions of a very unpleasant +interview with the Chief, and their expectations were not disappointed. +The whole form had to stay back on the last day and write out a Georgic. +Only the Fifth got off scot-free. Macdonald was told to deal with them, +but he saw the humour of the affair too strongly to do anything but +laugh.</p> + +<p>"These Cambridge men—can't keep order. No good at all. Can't think why +the Chief took him." And then, after a pause; "I wish I had been there!"</p> + +<p>The result of this was that for the future Finnemore was treated with a +little more respect. The Sixth decided that dances did not pay, and so +contented themselves with less noisy but little less aggravating +amusements. For instance, Finnemore's hatred of Browning was a byword; +so one day the entire form decided to learn <i>The Lost Leader</i> for +repetition. For a while Finnemore bore it patiently, but when a burly +chemistry specialist walked up to within two feet of him and began to +bawl so loudly that his actual<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[Pg 164]</a></span> words were distinguishable in the School +House studies, the master covered his face with his hands and murmured: +"Oh, heaven spare me this infliction!"</p> + +<p>On another occasion Betteridge walked quietly up to him, handed him a +Shelley, and without any warning suddenly shrieked out:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"He hath outsoared the shadow of our night."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Finnemore looked at him sadly: "My dear Betteridge, so early in the +morning!"</p> + +<p>By many little things his life was made wretched for him. But yet he +would not have chosen any other profession. He had once started life +with very high hopes, but had discovered that the world is not in +sympathy with men of ideas who do not prophesy smooth things. And so at +an early age he found himself disappointed in all his personal aims. It +seemed that he had to harbour only the simplest wish to find it denied. +And then he realised that for the loss of youth there can be no +compensation, and that in youth alone happiness could be found. And so +he had decided to spend his life in company with high hopes and smiling +faces. There were times when an immense sadness came over him, when he +thought that disillusionment was waiting for so many of them and that +there were few who would "carry their looks or their truth to the +grave." But on the whole he was as happy as his temperament could allow +him, and Gordon, although in a sense he was the very antithesis of all +that he admired most, found himself strangely in sympathy with his new +master. One day the subject for an essay was "Conventionality," and +Gordon unpacked his torrid soul in a wild abuse of all existing +governments. After he had written it, he got rather nervous about its +reception, but it was returned marked <i>a</i>-, and Finnemore had written at +the bottom: "We all think like this when we are young; and, after all, +it is good to be young."</p> + +<p>Gordon felt that he had found someone who understood him.</p> + +<p>Finnemore lived in two rooms over the masters' common room, which had +from time immemorial been the possession of the Sixth Form tutor, and in +the evenings when Gordon<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[Pg 165]</a></span> used to have his prose corrected Finnemore +would often ask him to stay behind and have some coffee. Then the two +would talk about poetry and art and life till the broken bell rang out +its cracked imperious summons. Finnemore had once published a small book +of verses, a copy of which he gave to Gordon. They had in them all the +frail pathos of a wasted career; most of them were songs of spurned +affection, and inside was the quotation: "<i>Scribere jussit amor</i>."</p> + +<p>"When I look at that book," said Finnemore to Gordon, "I can't associate +myself with the author, I seem to have quite outgrown him. And as I +recall the verses I say to myself, 'Poor fellow, life was hard to you,' +and I wonder if he really was myself."</p> + +<p>With him Gordon saw life from a different angle. He presented the +spectacle of failure, and it rather sobered Gordon's wild enthusiasm, at +times, to feel himself so close to anything so bitterly poignant. But +the hour of youth's domination, even if it be but an hour, is too full +of excitement and confidence to be overclouded by doubts for very long. +Usually Gordon saw in him a pathetic shadow whom he patronised. He did +not realise that it was what he himself might become.</p> + +<p>Through the long tedious hours in the shadowy class-room Gordon dreamed +of wonderful successes, and let others pass him by in the rush for +promotion. He began to think that prizes and form lists were not worth +worrying about; he said a classical education had such a narrowing +effect on character. We can always produce arguments to back up an +inclination if we want to. And in Finnemore there was no force to stir +anyone to do what they did not want.</p> + +<p>Only once a day was Gordon at all industrious, and that was when the +Chief took the Lower and Upper Sixth Form combined in Horace and +Thucydides.</p> + +<p>For the Chief Gordon always worked; not, it is true, with any real +measure of success, for he had rather got out of the habit of grinding +at the classics, but at any rate with energy. And during these hours he +began to perceive vaguely what a clear-sighted, unprejudiced mind the +Chief had. To the boy in the Fourth and Fifth forms any headmaster must<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[Pg 166]</a></span> +appear not so much a living person as the emblem of authority, the final +dispenser of justice, the hard, analytical sifter of evidence, "coldly +sublime, intolerably just." Gordon had always before looked on the Chief +as a figurehead, who at times would unbend most surprisingly and become +a man; on the cricket field, for example, when in a master's match he +had fielded cleanly a terrific cut at point, and played a sporting +innings; at House suppers, and, most surprisingly of all, when a row was +on, Gordon had been unable to understand him. He could not dissociate +him from his conception of a headmaster—a sort of Mercury, a divine +emissary of the gods, sent as a necessary infliction. Yet at times the +Chief was intensely human, and when Gordon came under his immediate +influence and caught a glimpse of his methods, he saw in a flash that at +all times his headmaster was a generous, sympathetic nature, and that it +was his own distorted view that had ever made him think otherwise. The +Chief was so ready to appreciate a joke, so quick with an answer, so +unassuming, so utterly the antithesis of any master he had met before.</p> + +<p>There were one or two incidents that stood out clearer than any others +in Gordon's memories of his Chief.</p> + +<p>At the very beginning of the term, before a start had been made on the +term's work, the Chief was talking about Horace's life and +characteristics.</p> + +<p>"Now, Tester," he said, "if you were asked to sum up Horace's outlook on +life in a single phrase, what would you say?"</p> + +<p>Tester thought for a minute or so.</p> + +<p>"Let us eat and drink, for to-morrow we die," he hazarded.</p> + +<p>The form laughed. It seemed rather a daring generalisation. But the +Chief's answer came back pat:</p> + +<p>"Well, hardly that, Tester. Shall we say, Let us eat and drink, but not +too much, or we shall have a stomach-ache to-morrow?"</p> + +<p>He had taken Tester's quite erroneous estimate as a basis, and had +exactly hit off Horace's character.</p> + +<p>But the following incident more than any other brought home to Gordon +how extraordinarily broadminded the Chief was. Carter was construing, +and had made a most<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[Pg 167]</a></span> preposterous howler, it does not matter what. He +had learnt the translation in the notes by heart, and quite failed to +connect it verbatim with the Greek.</p> + +<p>"There now, you see how utterly absurd you are," said the Chief. "You +have not taken the trouble to look the words up in a dictionary. Just +because you see what you think is a literal translation in the notes. +There lies the fatal error of using cribs. Of course when I catch a boy +in Shell or IV. A using one, I drop on him not only for slackness but +dishonesty. The boy is taking an unfair advantage of the rest and +getting promotion undeservedly. But in the Sixth Form you have got +beyond that stage. We don't worry much about marks here, so there is +nothing immoral in using a crib. It is merely silly. It tends to slack +translation which in the end ruins scholarship. And by using the notes +as you do, Carter, you are doing the same thing. You really must use +more common-sense. Go on, please, Harding."</p> + +<p>Gordon was amazed at such a broadminded view of cribbing. He had long +since grown weary of preachers who talked about dishonesty, without +seeming to draw a line between active dishonesty and passive slackness. +The Chief realised that it was deliberate slackness that led to +dishonesty, not dishonesty that was incidentally slack. The Chief must +be a very wise man.</p> + +<p>Nevertheless his admiration of the Chief did not make him do any more +work than was strictly necessary; and Gordon began to drift into a +peaceful academic groove, where he did just enough work to pass +unnoticed—neither good nor bad. He had grown tired of ragging. It was +such an effort, especially when the call of football demanded of every +ounce of energy. To drift down-stream may spell mediocrity, but it also +spells security, and, after all, there was little danger of Gordon +becoming a mediocrity in other branches of school life. He was far too +ambitious for that, but his ambitions were not academic. House politics +and athletics were sufficient burdens for one man in one lifetime. +"Other heights in other lives"; and Gordon believed in doing a few +things well.</p> + +<p>It was more than lucky for Gordon's future that this term he found +himself a success on the football field. If he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[Pg 168]</a></span> had not, he would +probably have sought a prominent position in the eyes of the school by +more doubtful paths; but as it was there was no need for him to plunge +into wild escapades to get noticed. His football attracted quite enough +attention. People spoke of his chances of getting into the Fifteen next +year. The Milton match was his greatest triumph, mainly because the rest +of the side did badly. Lovelace played back and made one or two fine +runs when he got the ball, but as a whole the side played very +half-heartedly. Burgoyne was off colour, and Collins's excuse that he +had been overworking lately did not save him from being kicked out of +the side after the match. But Gordon, who had got his Colts' badge on +the morning of the match, and so was relieved of any anxieties about his +place, played what he always said was his best game; so much so, in +fact, that Buller after the match, said:</p> + +<p>"Rotten, absolutely rotten, with the exception of Caruthers, who played +magnificently."</p> + +<p>There was only one blot on his performance, and that, though everyone +laughed about it, caused Gordon some regretful moments afterwards. +Rightly or wrongly Gordon thought the opposite scrum half was not +putting the ball in straight. Gordon told him what he thought of him. +The scrum half called him "a bloody interfering bastard," and told him +to go to hell. The next time the scrum half got the ball Gordon flung +him with unnecessary force, when he was already in touch, right into the +ropes. And from then onwards the relations between Gordon and the scrum +half were those of a scrapping match. Gordon came off best. He got a +bruise on the left thigh, but no one could notice that, while his +opponent had a bleeding nose and a cut lip. The school was amused, but +Gordon overheard a Milton man say: "I don't think much of the way these +Fernhurst men play the game. Look at that tick of a forward there. Dirty +swine!"</p> + +<p>After the game Gordon apologised to the half, and exchanged the usual +compliments; but he could see that the rest of the Milton side were not +at all pleased.</p> + +<p>He spoke to Mansell about it.</p> + +<p>"My dear man, don't you worry. You played a jolly fine game this +afternoon, and if you go on like that you are<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[Pg 169]</a></span> a cert. for your Firsts +next year. You played a damned hard game."</p> + +<p>"Yes; but it is rather a bad thing for the school, isn't it, if we get a +reputation for playing rough?"</p> + +<p>"But you weren't playing foul, and Buller always tells us to go hard and +play as rough as we like."</p> + +<p>"Yes; but still——"</p> + +<p>He was not quite reassured, though everyone told him it was all right. +However, if "the Bull" made no comment, it looked as if nothing could be +wrong. As a matter of fact, "the Bull" had not noticed; and though +Christy, in a fit of righteous indignation, poured out a long story to +him, he only smiled.</p> + +<p>"Oh, well, I expect he got a bit excited. First time he had played +footer for a school side.... I was a bit fierce my first game for +England. Don't blame him. He's a keen kid, and I am sure the other side +did not mind."</p> + +<p>Christy mumbled indistinctly. No one ever seemed to take much notice of +what he said. That evening, however, he and Rogers, over a glass of +port, agreed that Caruthers was a thoroughly objectionable young fellow +who ought to be taken in hand, and with this Christian sentiment to +inspire him Rogers went home to put a few finishing touches to his +sermon for the next day.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_II_CARNIVAL" id="CHAPTER_II_CARNIVAL"></a>CHAPTER II: CARNIVAL</h2> + + +<p>The tradition of Pack Monday Fair at Fernhurst is almost as old as the +School House studies. The legend, whether authenticated or not only +Macdonald, the historian of Fernhurst, could say, was handed down from +generation to generation. It was believed that, when the building of the +Abbey was finished, all the masons, glass-workers and artificers packed +up their tools and paraded the town with music and song, celebrating the +glory of their accomplished work. And from time immemorial the +townspeople have<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[Pg 170]</a></span> celebrated the second Monday in October by assembling +outside the Abbey at midnight, and ushering in a day of marketing and +revelry by a procession through the town, beating tin cans and blowing +upon posthorns. With the exception of this ritual, the day had become +merely an ordinary fair. But there was no sleeping on that Sunday night, +and for the whole week tantalising sounds of shrieking merry-go-rounds, +of whistling tramcars and thundering switchbacks were borne across the +night to disturb those who were trying to work in hall. It used to be +the custom for the bloods to creep out at night and take part in the +revels; but when the new Chief had come, four years before, he put a +firm hand upon such abuses, and had even threatened to expel anyone he +found in the act, a threat which he had carried out promptly by +expelling the best half-back in the school a fortnight before the +Dulbridge match; so that now only a few daring spirits stole out in the +small hours of the night on the hazardous expedition. Those courageous +souls were the objects of the deepest veneration among the smaller boys, +who would whisper quietly of their doings in the upper dormitories when +darkness lent a general security to the secrets that were being +revealed.</p> + +<p>This term about three days before Pack Monday, Gordon, Mansell, Carter +and a few others were engaged in their favourite hobby of shipping +Rudd's study. One chair had already gone the way of all old wood, and +the table was in danger of following it, when Rudd suddenly burst out:</p> + +<p>"Oh, you think yourselves damned fine fellows, six of you against one!"</p> + +<p>A roar of laughter went up. It was the traditional complaint of all +weaklings in school stories, and was singularly of the preparatory +school type of defence.</p> + +<p>"Jolly brave, aren't you? I'd like to see any one of you do anything +that might get you into trouble. I don't mind betting there's not one of +you that would dare to come out with me to the fair next Monday."</p> + +<p>There was an awkward pause. The challenge was unconventional; and the +Public School boy is not brought up to expect surprises. The only thing +to do was to pass it off with a joke.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[Pg 171]</a></span></p> + +<p>Lovelace stepped into the breach.</p> + +<p>"Do you think any of us would go anywhere with a swine like you who does +not wash? Dirty hog!"</p> + +<p>"Of course you would not; you are afraid."</p> + +<p>At that point Gordon's hatred of taking the second place, which had +before led him into difficulties, once again asserted itself. "Damn it +all," he thought, "I am not going to be beaten by Rudd!"</p> + +<p>"Do you say we are all funks if we don't go?"</p> + +<p>"Yes!"</p> + +<p>"All right then, damn you, I will go with you, just to show you that you +are not the only person in this rotten school who's fool enough to risk +being bunked."</p> + +<p>Rudd was taken aback. He had made the challenge out of bravado. He had +regretted it instantly. In the same spirit Gordon had accepted the +challenge; he also wished he had not the moment afterwards. But both saw +that they would have to go through with it now.</p> + +<p>"Good man," said Rudd, not to be outdone. "I wanted someone to go with +me; rather lonely these little excursions without company."</p> + +<p>He spoke with the air of one who spent every other night giving +dinner-parties at the Eversham Tap.</p> + +<p>"Look here, now," broke in Mansell, "don't make bloody fools of +yourselves. You will only get the sack if you are caught, and you +probably will get caught; you are sure to do something silly. For God's +sake, don't go. It's not worth it. Really, not!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, shut up; don't panic," was Gordon's scornful answer; "we are going +to have a fine time, aren't we, Rudd?"</p> + +<p>"Splendid," said Rudd, who wanted to laugh; the whole situation was +fraught with such a perfectly impossible irony.</p> + +<p>"Oh, do have some sense, man." Lovelace was impatient with him. "What is +the use of rushing about at midnight in slouch hats with a lot of silly, +shrieking girls?"</p> + +<p>"You can't understand, you live in the country. I am a Londoner. You +want the true Cockney spirit that goes rolling drunk on Hampstead Heath +on Easter Monday."</p> + +<p>"Well, thank God, I do want it, then," said Lovelace.</p> + +<p>Rumour flies round a house quickly. In hall several<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[Pg 172]</a></span> people came up and +asked Gordon if it was true. They looked at him curiously with an +expression in which surprise and admiration were curiously blended. The +old love of notoriety swept over Gordon once more; he felt frightfully +bucked with himself. What a devil of a fellow he was, to be sure. He +went round the studies in hall, proclaiming his audacity.</p> + +<p>"I say, look here, old chap, you needn't tell anyone, but I am going out +to Pack Monday Fair; it will be some rag!"</p> + +<p>The sensation he caused was highly gratifying. By prayers all his +friends and most of his acquaintances knew of it. Of course they would +keep it secret. But Gordon knew well that by break next day it would be +round the outhouses, and he looked forward to the number of questions he +would get asked. To be the hero of an impending escapade was pleasant.</p> + +<p>"I say, Davenport," he said in his dormitory that evening, "I am going +out to the fair on Monday."</p> + +<p>Davenport said nothing, and showed no sign of surprise. Gordon was +disappointed.</p> + +<p>"Well, what do you think of it?" he said at last.</p> + +<p>"That you are a sillier ass than I thought you were," said Davenport.</p> + +<p>And as Gordon lay thinking over everything in the dark, he came to the +conclusion that Davenport was not so very far wrong after all.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Cold and nervous, Gordon waited for Rudd in the dark boot-hole under the +Chief's study on Pack Monday night just before twelve. In stockinged +feet he had crept downstairs, opened the creaking door without making +any appreciable noise, and then waited in the boot-room, which was +filled with the odour of blacking and damp decay. There was a small +window at the end of it, through which it was just possible to squeeze +out on to the Chief's front lawn. After that all was easy; anyone could +clamber over the wall by the V. A green.</p> + +<p>There was the sound of feet on the stairs. It seemed to Gordon as if +they were bound to wake the whole house. Rudd's figure was framed black +in the doorway.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[Pg 173]</a></span></p> + +<p>Silently they wormed their way through the window. The damp soil of a +flower bed was cold under their feet; with his hand Rudd smoothed out +the footprints.</p> + +<p>They stole down the silent cloisters, echoing shadows leered at them. +The wall of the V. A green rose dark and sinister. At last breathless +among the tombstones by the Abbey they slipped on their boots, turned up +coat collars and drew their caps over their eyes.</p> + +<p>A minute later the glaring lights of the booths in Cheap Street engulfed +them. They were jostled in the crowd. It was, after all, only Hampstead +Heath on a small scale.</p> + +<p>"Walk up, walk up! All the fun of the fair! Buy a teazer! Buy a teazer! +Buy a teazer! Tickle the girls! Walk up! Try your luck at the darts, +sir; now then, sir, come on!"</p> + +<p>The confused roar was as music to Gordon's soul. He had the Cockney love +of a fair. The children of London are still true to the coster legends +of the Old Kent Road.</p> + +<p>Gordon and Rudd did not stop long in Cheap Street. The real business was +in the fair fields by Rogers's house. This was only the outskirts.</p> + +<p>The next hour passed in a dream. Lights flared, rifles snapped at +fugitive ping-pong balls leaping on cascades of water, swing-boats rose +heavenwards, merry-go-rounds banged out rag-time choruses. Gordon let +himself go. He and Rudd tried everything. After wasting half-a-crown on +the cocoanuts, Rudd captured first go at the darts a wonderful vase +decorated with the gilt legend, "A Present from Fernhurst," and Gordon +at the rifle range won a beautiful china shepherdess which held for days +the admiration of the School House, until pining perhaps for its lover, +which by no outlay of darts could Gordon secure, it became dislodged +from the bracket and fell in pieces on the floor, to be swept away by +Arthur, the school <i>custos</i>, into the perpetual darkness of the dustbin.</p> + +<p>Weary at last, the pair sought the shelter of a small café, where they +luxuriously sipped lemonade. Faces arose out of the night, passed by and +faded out again. The sky was red with pleasure, the noise and shrieks +grew louder and more insistent. There was a dance going on.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[Pg 174]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I say, Rudd, do you dance?"</p> + +<p>"No, not much."</p> + +<p>"Well, look here, I can, a bit; at any rate I am going to have a bit of +fun over there. Let us go on our own for a bit. Meet me here at a +quarter to four."</p> + +<p>"Right," said Rudd, and continued sipping the lurid poison that called +itself American cream soda, and was in reality merely a cheap illness.</p> + +<p>Gordon walked in the direction of the dancing. The grass had been cut +quite short in a circle, and to the time of a broken band the town +dandies were whirling round, flushed with excitement and the close +proximity of a female form. "The Mænads and the Bassarids," murmured +Gordon to himself, and cursed his luck for not knowing any of the girls. +Disconsolately he wandered across to the Bijou Theatre, a tumble-down +hut where a huge crowd was jostling and shouting.</p> + +<p>He ran into something and half apologised.</p> + +<p>"Oh, don't mind me," a high-pitched voice shrieked excitedly.</p> + +<p>He turned round and saw the flushed face of a girl of about nineteen +looking up at him. She was alone.</p> + +<p>"I say," Gordon muttered nervously, "you look a bit lonely, come and +have some ginger beer."</p> + +<p>"Orl right. I don't mind. Give us your arm!"</p> + +<p>They rolled off to a neighbouring stall, where Gordon stood his Juliet +countless lemonades and chocolates. He felt very brave and grown-up, and +thought contemptuously of Davenport in bed dreaming some fatuous dream, +while he was engulfed in noise and colour. This was life. From the stall +the two wandered to the swing-boats, and towering high above the tawdry +glitter of the revel saw through the red mist the Abbey, austere and +still, the School House dormitories stretching silent with suspended +life, the class-rooms peopled with ghosts.</p> + +<p>A plank jarred under the boat.</p> + +<p>"Garn, surely it ain't time to stop yet," wailed Emmie.</p> + +<p>He had gathered enough courage to ask her her name.</p> + +<p>"Have another?" pleaded Gordon.</p> + +<p>"No; let us try the lively thing over there. These boats do make me feel +so funny-like."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[Pg 175]</a></span></p> + +<p>The merry-go-round was just stopping. There was a rush for the horses. +Gordon leapt on one, and leaning down caught Emmie up and sat her in +front of him; she lay back in his arms in a languor of satisfied +excitement. Her hair blew across his face, stifling him; on every side +couples were hugging and squeezing. The sensuous whirl of the machine +was acting as a narcotic, numbing thought. He caught her flushed, tired +face in his hands and kissed her wildly, beside himself with the +excitement of the moment.</p> + +<p>"You don't mind, do you?" he murmured in a hoarse whisper.</p> + +<p>"Don't be so silly; I have been waiting for that. Now we can get +comfy-like."</p> + +<p>Her arms were round his neck, her flushed face was hot on his, her hair +hung over his shoulders. The strains of <i>You Made Me Love You</i> came +inarticulate with passion out of the shrieking organ. Her elbow nudged +him. Her lips were as fire beneath his. The machine slowed down and +stopped. Gordon paid for five extra rounds. Dazed with new and hitherto +unrealised sensations, Gordon forgot everything but the strange warm +thing nestling in his arms; and he abandoned himself to the passion of +the moment.</p> + +<p>At last their time was up. Closely, her hair on his shoulder, they moved +to the dancing circle, and plunged into the throng of the shouting, +jostling dancers. Of the next two hours Gordon could remember nothing. +He had vague recollections of streaming hair, of warm hands, and of +fierce, wild kisses. Lights flickered, shot skywards, and went out. +Forms loomed before him, a strange weariness came over him, he +remembered flinging himself beside her in the grass and burying his face +in her hair. She seemed to speak as from a very long way off. Once more +the dance caught them. Then <i>Auld Lang Syne</i> struck up. Hands were +clasped, a circle swayed riotously. There were promises to meet next +night, promises that neither meant to keep. Rudd was waiting impatiently +at the café. Once more the wall by the Abbey rose spectral, once more +the cloisters echoed vaguely. The boot-hole window creaked.</p> + +<p>As the dawn broke tempestuously in the sky Gordon fell<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[Pg 176]</a></span> across his bed, +his brain tired with a thousand memories, all fugitive, all vague, all +exquisitely unsubstantial.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>With heavy, tired eyes Gordon ran down to breakfast a second before +time. He felt utterly weary, exhausted, incapable of effort. People came +up and asked him in whispers if everything had turned out well. He +answered absentmindedly, incoherently.</p> + +<p>"I don't believe you went there at all," a voice jeered.</p> + +<p>Gordon did not reply. He merely put his hand in his pocket and pulled +out the china shepherdess that he was about to place on the rickety +study bracket.</p> + +<p>Doubt was silenced.</p> + +<p>The long hours of morning school passed by on leaden feet; he seemed +unable to answer any question right; even the Chief was annoyed.</p> + +<p>Rain fell in torrents. The Colts game was scratched.</p> + +<p>On a pile of cushions laid on the floor Gordon slept away the whole +afternoon. From four to six he had to write a Greek Prose in his study. +The tea bell scattered his dreams. He rose languidly, with the +unpleasant sensation of work unfinished.</p> + +<p>The row of faces at tea seemed to frighten him. He felt as if he had +awakened out of a nightmare, that still held on to him with cold, clammy +hands, and was trying to draw him back once more into its web. Visions +rose before him of shrieking showmen's booths, blinking with tawdry +yellow eyes. Emmie's hoarse laugh grated on his ears; he was overwrought +and wanted to shout, to shriek, to give some vent to his feelings. But +he seemed chained to the long bench, and his tongue was tied so that he +could only mouth out silly platitudes about the weather and the +Fifteen's chances.</p> + +<p>On his way back to the studies he felt an arm laid in his. He shivered +and turned round, half expecting to see Emmie's flushed, exciting face +peering up at him. He almost sighed with relief when he found it was +Tester.</p> + +<p>"Look here, just come for a stroll round the courts. The rain's stopped. +I want to talk to you."</p> + +<p>They wandered out under the lindens.</p> + +<p>"I suppose you did go out last night, didn't you?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[Pg 177]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"What on earth did you do it for?"</p> + +<p>"I am sick of the whole affair," Gordon said petulantly. "Rudd called +the lot of us funks, so——"</p> + +<p>"I know that tale quite well," Tester broke in. "I want to know why you +went out. At least I don't mean that. I mean to tell you why you went +out, because I don't think you know yourself. You have made an awful +fool of yourself. You have run the risk of getting sacked, merely +because you wanted to be talked about."</p> + +<p>"I didn't. I went because I was jolly well not going to have Rudd +calling me a funk."</p> + +<p>"Comes to the same thing in the end, doesn't it? You did not want to +play second fiddle; you didn't want Rudd to appear to have scored. You +wanted to be the central figure. Much the same, isn't it? The love of +notoriety."</p> + +<p>Gordon murmured something inaudible.</p> + +<p>"And it is all so damned silly. You are running the risk of getting the +sack, and for nothing at all. I can understand quite well anyone being +drawn into anything dangerous by a strong emotion or feeling. It is +natural. Masters say we should curb our natures. I don't know if they +are right. That's neither here nor there. There was nothing natural in +what you did. It was merely rotten imbecility—your self-consciousness, +your fear of not seeming to have done the right thing. You can't go on +like this. I own that this term you have been more or less sane. The +last two terms I have often wondered what was going to happen to you. +You had no balance; you kept on doing silly little things so as to hold +the attention of a more stupid audience. This term you have stopped that +sort of rot. But what is the use of it going to be, if you go and do +things like this on the impulse of the moment, merely because you don't +want to look silly? You can't think how much more silly you look by +playing the ruddy ass during the small hours inside a stinking booth! +You can't afford to do that sort of thing. Your ambition is to be +captain of the House, and not a bad ambition either. But do you realise +that if you are going to be a real power in the House, if you are going +to fight the masters, as you say you will, you can't afford to fling +away points? You must appear impregnable. Don't<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[Pg 178]</a></span> be an ass. A master +holds all the high cards. If you play into his hand, he has you done to +the world. Suppose you were caught going out at night your last year, +what would happen? You might get the sack at once; and all your +rebellion would be wasted. And, mark you, a rebellion is wanted. There +is real need of a man who has the strength of his opinions and sticks +out. What's the use of it if you go and get sacked? Of course, they +might keep you on, and ask you to go at the end of the term to save your +face. What would your position be then? You would be bound hand and +foot, powerless to do anything. Life would slip past you. You have got +to be above suspicion. Think, however much you may want to do a thing +now, however much praise you may think an action of yours would get, +stop and consider how it will appear two years hence. A really serious +row might knock you out for the rest of your time here: a bad name +sticks. Remember that. Think of the day when you are going to be a real +power, and stand up for the independence of the individual to think as +he likes, not as Buller likes; for the independence of the House to run +itself. 'The Bull' runs our house to-day. You hear men say, 'We can't do +that, Buller would be sick!' You have to free them of Buller's tyranny, +if you are going to be a man; and if you do, you can't fight in rusty +armour. These masters may be fools, but they have the cards."</p> + +<p>Gordon listened to Tester's flow of words. He was furious. But when at +last lights were put out and he lay back in bed and watched the stars +steadfast in love and splendour, and the moon immutable, enigmatic, +smiling quietly, he appreciated the truth of Tester's argument. A great +battle was before him; he would have to go into it strong and prepared +at every point. There must be no chink in his coat of mail.</p> + +<p>Some day his hour would come; till then he had to wait in patience, and +during the long vigil he would keep his shield clean of rust. He would +have to think, to weigh his decisions, to keep before his eyes the goal +towards which his ambition was set.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[Pg 179]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_III_BROADENING_OUTLOOK" id="CHAPTER_III_BROADENING_OUTLOOK"></a>CHAPTER III: BROADENING OUTLOOK</h2> + + +<p>Like a huge reel of thread the long winter term unrolled itself. +November drifted by with its gusty winds that shrieked in the empty +cloisters. December came with its dark mornings and steadily falling +rains. The First Fifteen matches were over. Dulbridge and Tonford had +both been beaten handsomely; Mansell had got his Firsts. The Colts drew +at Limborne, and finished their season with an overwhelming victory over +Weybridge. House games began again, and the Thirds and Two Cock became +the only possible topics of conversation. During the first half of the +term Hazelton, as was inevitable, had had to spend nearly all his time +in First Fifteen puntabouts and upper ground games. The House had seen +little of him. But now, with all the big matches over, and only the old +Fernhurstians' match to come on the last Saturday of the term, he had +time to devote all his energies to the training of house sides. If he +had not talked so much he would have been one of the strong, silent +Englishmen. For to all outward appearances he was taciturn, +unimaginative, self-willed. But he had a very nasty tongue, and never +hesitated to use it at the expense of his enemies. As a house captain he +was a distinct success. He knew the game well, and was able to inspire a +keenness that was not jingoistic. He also had the rare virtue of knowing +where to stop. He never made sides play on till they were speechless +with fatigue, as some over-enthusiastic house captains had been known to +do. He was very popular with his sides.</p> + +<p>Every evening before hall there congregated in Gordon's study all the +old faces of his first year, with one or two new ones. Nowhere so easily +as at a Public School does one find oneself drifting apart from an old +acquaintance; not for any real reason, not for any quarrel, but merely +because circumstances seem to will it so. But when the thought of House +matches returned, the old lot came back together to fight their battles +over again, and to dream of the silver cups glittering below the statue +of Edward VI. They were all there: Hunter, who had seemed to pass almost +out of Gordon's life since he had begun to play in the Fifteen;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[Pg 180]</a></span> +Mansell, who now spent much of his time with Hazelton; Betteridge, who +was more often than not with Harding. No. 1 Study was very convenient. +Roll was held just outside, and when the prefect's voice was heard +calling the first name the door would be flung open, and still reclining +in arm-chairs they shouted out the immemorial "sum." About five minutes +before the hour of roll-call juniors from the day-room and the farther +studies would begin to collect round the hot pipes in the passage, +fearful of being late. Then in No. 1 Lovelace would wind up the +gramophone, and the strains of <i>When the Midnight Choo-choo leaves for +Alabama</i> broke out with deafening violence. The concert lasted till the +first strokes of the hour had boomed out. Roll over, they all separated +to their various studies. Lovelace took out his <i>Sportsman</i> and began to +total up his winnings; Gordon either lay full length in the hammock, a +new and much envied acquisition which was slung across from door to +window, and read for the hundredth time the haunting melodies of +<i>Rococo</i>, or else, as was more usual, wandered round the studies with +the magnificent air of indifference that marked all members of the +Sixth.</p> + +<p>Then came prayers; after which Gordon and Davenport made for the +seclusion of their double dormitory. Lights were out at nine-fifteen for +the big upper dormitories, and till then they used to wander down the +passage for the ostensible reason of getting hot water, but in reality +to watch, with the superior air of Olympians, the life of lesser breeds. +They imagined themselves great bloods during these few minutes after +prayers. Sometimes when the House tutor was supposed to be out they +would join in a game of football in the passage; but as they were caught +once and each got a Georgic, this pastime lost its charm. Usually they +lolled in the doorway with a perfect superiority, and talked of the old +"rags" and discomfitures of two years back, for the benefit of admiring +listeners.</p> + +<p>"Do you remember when Mansell slept in that bed?" Gordon would say.</p> + +<p>"No; I was not here that term," Davenport would reply; "but I sha'n't +forget when the Chief found Betteridge's bed pitched on the floor, with +Betteridge underneath and Lovelace sitting on top."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[Pg 181]</a></span></p> + +<p>Was it possible, thought some small fry, that the great Mansell, who +played for the Fifteen, had once actually slept in the same bed as he +occupied now? Had Betteridge, who had only that night given half the +day-room a hundred lines, once had his bed shipped on that very floor! +It all seemed like a gigantic fairy story. And to think that Caruthers +had seen these things!</p> + +<p>But they were not long, these moments of the assumption of the godhead. +Darkness soon fell on the long passage, and only whispered talking +sounded faint and far away. Gordon and Davenport then went back to their +room, and on evenings after a hard game they had a small supper. They +had managed to discover a loose board, and the floor space caused by its +removal served as a cupboard, a cupboard so damp and unhealthy that the +most lenient sanitary inspector must infallibly have condemned it. Here, +just before afternoon school, they secreted ginger beer bottles, a loaf +of bread, butter, some tomatoes and a chunk of Gorgonzola cheese. In the +morning they carried away the bottles in their pockets. It would have +been much easier and much more comfortable to have had a meal in their +study, but then it would have lacked the savour of romance. The rule +forbidding the importation of food into the dormitories was very strict. +At the end of the term, when both were going to leave that particular +room, they nailed down the board, so that no other marauder should +imitate them. They wished to be unique. But before they did so, they put +in the mouldy cupboard a lemonade bottle and one of the blue Fernhurst +roll-books for the Michaelmas Term, 1913. They underlined their names in +it, and left it as a memento of a few happy evenings.</p> + +<p>"I wonder," said Caruthers, "if years hence someone will pull up that +board and find the book, and seeing our names will wonder who we were."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps," said Davenport. "And, you know, they may try and find out +something about us in back numbers of <i>The Fernhurstian</i>, or in the +photographs of house sides. Do you think they will be able to find out +anything about us?"</p> + +<p>"I hope so; but how little we know even of the bloods<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[Pg 182]</a></span> of 1905, and as +likely as not we sha'n't ever be bloods. It will be rather funny if some +day of all the things we have done nothing remains but the blue +roll-book."</p> + +<p>"Funny?" said Davenport. "Rather pathetic, I should say."</p> + +<p>At fifteen one is apt to be sentimental.</p> + +<p>Perhaps some rude fingers have already torn up that board; perhaps even +now some new generation of Fernhurstians is using it as a receptacle for +tobacco, or cheese, or any other commodity contraband to the +dormitories. But perhaps underneath a board in No. 1 double dormitory +there still repose that identical lemonade bottle and the roll-book with +its blue cover, now sadly faded and its leaves turned up with age, to +serve as Gordon's epitaph, when all his other deeds have perished in +oblivion.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>There is perhaps nothing that has made so many friendships as a big row, +or the prospect of one. We always feel in sympathy with people whose +aims are identical with our own, and the principals in some big row or +escapade cannot help being bound close together by common ties. A mutual +danger has brought together many ill-assorted pairs, and among others it +showed Gordon and Rudd that they had something in common with one +another. Gordon had always looked upon Rudd as a guileless ass who was +no good at games, did nothing for the House, and was only useful as the +universal provider of cribs. But after the Pack Monday Fair incident +Gordon saw that there was in Rudd a something which, if not exactly to +be admired, came very near it. It was a daring thing to challenge anyone +who was willing to come to the fair with him, and he had not shown the +slightest wish to back out of his agreement. Gordon decided to make his +better acquaintance, and in the process was brought face to face with +another fresh character, a type that was to set before him different +aims and standards. For Gordon was sharp enough to see more or less +below the surface. Rudd was a new type to him. It was clear that he had +some merits, especially pluck; and yet he was no good at games, and, +what was more extraordinary, did not seem in the least worried about his +failures. Gordon had always pitied those who could not scrape into the +Thirds.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[Pg 183]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Poor devils!" he used to say in the arrogance of his own +self-satisfaction. "I expect they tried just as much as we did. And it +must be pretty awful for them to realise that they are no real use at +games at all."</p> + +<p>He had never thought it possible that anyone with the slightest claims +to respectability could be quite indifferent to athletic success. But +Rudd was, after all, a presentable fellow, and yet he did not mind in +the least.</p> + +<p>It was all very strange.</p> + +<p>Only by trying to see the points of view of others do we get any real +idea of the trend of human thought. It is quite useless to start life +with fixed standards, and try to bring everyone to realise their +virtues. We must have some standard, it is true, or we should be as +rudderless boats; but it is of paramount importance that our standards +should be sufficiently elastic to include new movements; and not until +we have tried and weighed in the balance, and considered and sifted the +philosophies of others, should we attempt to form a philosophy for +ourselves.</p> + +<p>By nature Gordon was arrogant and self-satisfied; but by meeting types +different from himself and in their company gaining glimpses of goals +other than his own, his character was undoubtedly broadened, his horizon +extended, and he managed to get things into better proportion.</p> + +<p>For several people just at this time were influencing Gordon. But none +more so than Ferrers. Ever since the Stoics debate Gordon had become a +profound admirer of the new master, who had banged into the cloistered +Fernhurst life, bubbling over with the ideas of the rising generation, +intolerant of prejudice and tradition, clamorous for reform. It was a +great sight to see him walking about the courts. He was nearly always +dressed the same, in his blue woollen waistcoat, soft collar and serge +suit. He never walked anywhere without at least two books under his arm. +He was recognisable at once. If a stranger had glanced round the courts +in break, and had been asked afterwards if any of the masters had +attracted his attention, he might perhaps have mentioned "the Bull's" +powerful roll; with a smile he might have remarked on the prelatical +Rogers, stalking like Buckingham "half in heaven." There were six or +seven he <i>might</i> have noticed, but there was only one<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[Pg 184]</a></span> person whom he +must have seen, whom he could not possibly have failed to pick out +immediately, and that was Ferrers. Personality was written on every +feature of his face, every movement was typical of youthful vigour and +action. His half-contemptuous swing suggested a complete scorn of +everything known before 1912. He was the great god of Gordon's soul, +greater even than Lovelace major had been, far greater than Meredith.</p> + +<p>As he sat listening to Finnemore discussing artistic questions in form, +he felt wildly impatient to hear Ferrer's opinion. Nothing seemed +settled definitely until Ferrers had spoken, and only the Army and +Matriculation classes had the tremendous advantages of doing English +with him. Most of Ferrer's time was wasted in attempts to drive home +mathematical theories into the dense brain of a lower school set.</p> + +<p>As to his influence in the school there could be no two opinions. The +bloods, of course, were too completely settled in their grooves of +Philistinism and self-worship to feel the force of innovation. But even +on a mild character like Foster's his effect was startling. Ferrer's +great theory was: "Let boys take their own time. The adage that it does +a boy good to do what he hates may be all right for the classics, but it +is no good to try that game with literature. Find out what a boy likes. +Encourage him, show you are in sympathy with his taste, and once in his +confidence gradually lead him step by step to the real stuff. He will +follow you, if you only make out you like what he likes. A boy hates the +superior attitude of 'Oh, quite good in its way, of course.' A master +must get to the boy's level; it is fatuous to try and drag the boy to +his at once." And there is abundant proof to show that this plan was a +success. When Ferrers first came, Foster, for example, read nothing but +Kipling and Guy Boothby. During his last term Gordon found him absorbed +in <i>Vanity Fair</i> and <i>The Duchess of Malfi</i>. It would be difficult to +over-estimate the good Ferrers did at Fernhurst. From afar Gordon +worshipped him. He learnt from Foster what Ferrers had read to his form +and what he recommended them to read, and as soon as he could he +borrowed or bought the book. The school book-shop about this time began +to find in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[Pg 185]</a></span> Gordon its most generous patron. At times Gordon would tell +Foster to ask Ferrers questions that interested him. And the answers, +usually a little vague and elastic, spurred Gordon on to fresh fields. +His taste was beginning to grow, and football "shop" was no longer his +only topic of conversation.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IV_THIRDS" id="CHAPTER_IV_THIRDS"></a>CHAPTER IV: THIRDS</h2> + + +<p>There was only one thing that at all worried Gordon just now, and that +was the behaviour of the Hazlitt brethren. Mention has already been made +of this couple. During their first few terms they gave every promise of +developing into the very worst types that banality and athletic success +can produce, and these expectations had been abundantly fulfilled. The +elder brother had his points, but they were few, the chief one being +that he was fairly good at games, which, after all, is but a negative +quality. But the younger, who was as useless as he was generally +officious, was entirely devoid of any redeeming feature. His ways were +the ways of a slum child playing in the gutter, and his sense of humour +was limited to shouting rude remarks after other people, knocking off +hats, and then running away. His language was foul enough to disgust +even a Public School's taste. Gordon loathed him. One evening he and +Lovelace discussed the child.</p> + +<p>"Look here," said Gordon, "it's no good, this. That unutterable little +tick Hazlitt knocked off my hat as I was looking at the notice-board +to-day, and I am not going to stand it. By the time I had turned round +he was half-way across the courts."</p> + +<p>"The little swine! He is not fit to be in a decent school. If he can't +get rid of the habits he learnt with street cads in the holidays of his +own accord, he'll have to be kicked out of them. We will wait for him +one day, and if we see him knock a School House straw off, my God, we +will boot him to blazes!"</p> + +<p>"Right you are. It won't be bullying. It will be treating a dirty beast +in the only way he can understand."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[Pg 186]</a></span></p> + +<p>About three days later, from their study window, they saw Hazlitt minor +proceeding to the notice-board after lunch. They left their study and +walked into the cloisters.</p> + +<p>Hazlitt minor read the notices, discovered that, as he was posted on no +game, he must of necessity take himself to the "pick-up," and then +looked round. Davenham was conscientiously perusing a notice, although +there was no likelihood of his own name appearing on any. (It is almost +true to say that nobody looked at the board except the people about whom +there are no notices to read.) There was an announcement four days old +to the effect that C.J. Mansell had been presented with his First +Fifteen colours. Davenham seemed to find it vastly interesting. Hazlitt +stole up behind, and knocked his hat flying across the cloister. In a +second Gordon and Lovelace were on him. They did not care in the very +least what happened to Davenham. He played no part in their life. But a +School House man had been "cheeked" by a filthy little outhouse swab. +These aliens had to be taught their place.</p> + +<p>"What do you mean by that, you awful tick?" shouted Lovelace. "Davenham, +go and fetch a hockey stick from Tester's study."</p> + +<p>Hazlitt let out with his feet and caught Gordon on the ankle, but the +horrible hack he got in return quieted him.</p> + +<p>Davenham appeared with a hockey stick.</p> + +<p>Gordon managed to get Hazlitt's head between his knees, and Lovelace +began to give that worthy a beating he was never likely to forget. In a +few minutes he was blubbering for mercy. Fletcher passed by.</p> + +<p>"Here you are, Archie," yelled Gordon; "come and have a shot at this +swine Hazlitt; we are teaching him that he can't go about knocking off +School House hats with impunity."</p> + +<p>"Right you are, my lads."</p> + +<p>By the time Archie had finished, Hazlitt had almost collapsed. Gordon +let him go, and with a hefty boot sent him flying into the cloisters.</p> + +<p>"I don't think we shall have any more of him for a bit," said Lovelace, +with satisfaction.</p> + +<p>"No; these outhouse lads want showing their place from time to time. The +School House, after all, is <i>the</i> place.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[Pg 187]</a></span> We are like Rome, the mother +city; the other outhouses are merely provinces of ours. Jolly good of us +to let them use our buildings at all. Come and change; we have done a +good deed, my friends."</p> + +<p>But the matter did not end there. That evening in Buller's dormitories +Hazlitt told a story of how Caruthers had been bullying him for no +reason, and hacking him till he could hardly sit down. He left out +Lovelace's name, because Lovelace was popular with the Buller's crowd. +News of this reached Felston, the second prefect. He fumed with rage, +and sought Gregory, the Buller's house captain.</p> + +<p>"Have you heard the latest? That swine Caruthers has been bullying +Hazlitt. He drove him all round the cloisters, hitting him with a hockey +stick."</p> + +<p>"Good God, the swine! Did he really! My word, I'll lay him out in the +Three Cock. You wait, that's all. When he plays in the Three Cock, I'll +lay him out for dead in the first ten minutes."</p> + +<p>In due course this story found its way to the Buller's day-room, where +was great rejoicing. So Caruthers was going to be laid out, was he? How +damned funny! Hazlitt's heart leapt within him. His evil little mind +pictured Gordon being carried off the field, absolutely smashed up. He +gloated.</p> + +<p>Gordon laughed when he heard of it.</p> + +<p>"Oh, well, at any rate I shall have my shot at them first in the Thirds +and Two Cock."</p> + +<p>He was secretly rather pleased to see that even his enemies had not the +slightest doubt about his getting a place in the Three Cock. A House cap +was just then his great ambition. But for all that he suffered +considerable annoyance. Whenever he went up to the tuck-shop a voice +from the Buller's doorway croaked: "Wait for the Three Cock!"</p> + +<p>At first it was rather amusing. But soon it got distinctly tiresome. +Deep in his heart he cursed the tick Hazlitt and the whole Buller crowd. +A joke could be carried to an extreme. And it slowly dawned on him that, +if he did play in the Three Cock, he was in for a remarkably thin time.</p> + +<p>Almost the last words he heard as the eight-forty swept out of Fernhurst +station on the last morning, with its<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[Pg 188]</a></span> waving hands and shoutings, was a +shriek from the Buller's day-room: "Wait for the Three Cock!" Gordon +laughed for a second, and then looked bored. The jest had ceased to have +a shred of humour left upon it. It was naked and ought to be ashamed.</p> + +<p>The Easter term opened in the conventional way with rain, slush and +influenza. The fields were flooded, the country a lake; the bare +branches dripped incessantly. But for all that the first round of the +Thirds began on the first Saturday.</p> + +<p>Buller's drew Rogers's. There was no doubt as to the result. It would be +a walk-over for Buller's, though Burgoyne might get over the line once +or twice.</p> + +<p>There was a crowd in front of the pavilion.</p> + +<p>"Well, do something, at any rate," said Gordon. "Don't let Buller's get +above themselves. You keep them in order."</p> + +<p>"Oh yes, we'll sit on them!" laughed Burgoyne. "By the way, I think it +would be rather a good scheme to lay out Hazlitt minor, don't you?"</p> + +<p>Never did any forward in any house match at Fernhurst take the field +without the sworn intention of laying out some hated opponent. +Nevertheless during the whole time Gordon was at school only one boy was +hurt so badly that he had to leave the field. And that was an accident. +He broke his collar-bone, falling over by the goal-posts. It had become +almost a custom to state whom you were going to lay out before the +match. The idea sounds brutal, but it never led to anything. Gordon knew +this as well as anyone.</p> + +<p>"Good man! And look here, if you do, I'll give you a bob."</p> + +<p>"A bargain?"</p> + +<p>"Of course."</p> + +<p>"Right, my lad. We will have a good supper to-night in my study."</p> + +<p>The match followed the ordinary course. Frenzied juniors rushed up and +down the touch-line inarticulate with excitement; the bloods, strolling +arm in arm, patronised the game mildly. Buller's won very easily. +Hazlitt played quite decently and scored once. Burgoyne went +supperless.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[Pg 189]</a></span></p> + +<p>The second and third rounds were played; everywhere Buller's triumphed. +No house was beaten by less than forty points. Not a try was scored +against them. Christy's, who had lost by forty-four points to nil, had, +as the least unsuccessful house, the doubtful honour of joining forces +with Buller's to play the School House in the final.</p> + +<p>The betting was fairly even. Buller's thought they would win; the House, +as usual, was certain of victory. The school expected a level game, and +on the whole wanted to see a School House win. Buller's had had too much +success of late years; and envy was inevitably at work.</p> + +<p>The selection of the combined outhouse side caused a lot of +consideration. There was once an idea of playing Hazlitt minor, but much +to the annoyance of the House this plan was, from the outhouse point of +view, wisely dropped. And now Jack Whitaker—he was always known as +Jack—enters the story.</p> + +<p>Jack was a very decent sort of kid, much (in the School House +estimation) above the standard of Buller's day-room. He was a little +rowdy and ostentatious, but had the justification of being really good +at something. He was a promising half-back, and his cricket was so good +that there was talk of his getting a trial for the School Eleven. Gordon +and he got on rather well. But he was very young; under fifteen, in +fact, and very impetuous.</p> + +<p>About a week before the Thirds "the Bull" was discussing the match in +the dormitories. Jack was very full of words.</p> + +<p>"I say, sir, isn't it awfully lucky for Hazlitt that he is not playing?"</p> + +<p>"The Bull" was surprised. Only that evening he had been talking with +Hazlitt, and telling him how sorry he was that there was no place for +him in the side.</p> + +<p>"Why, Jack? I don't know what you mean."</p> + +<p>"Oh, well, you see, sir, all the School House fellows had sworn to lay +him out!"</p> + +<p>"You must not talk like that, Jack. It is not sporting. And it stirs up +ill feeling in the school. You can't honestly believe that any gentleman +would play a game in that spirit. You have no proof of what you say +except mere rumour, I suppose. You mustn't talk like that."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[Pg 190]</a></span></p> + +<p>"The Bull" was not at all pleased, and walked away to turn out the +light. Whitaker saw he had gone too far and had said more than he meant +to. But he couldn't stand the idea that "the Bull" should think he had +been repeating merely idle chatter.</p> + +<p>"But, sir, I know for certain that in the Christy's match the School +House men were offering money to Christy's to lay Hazlitt out."</p> + +<p>Buller stopped with his hand on the gas-tap.</p> + +<p>"That is a very serious accusation, Jack. Are you telling me that any +Fernhurst boys so lack sportsmanlike feeling as to bribe boys in other +houses to lay out their rivals, so that it will be easier for them to +win."</p> + +<p>"Oh, sir, I don't think that they meant that."</p> + +<p>"Well, you said it, at any rate."</p> + +<p>The gas went out suddenly. "The Bull" strode out without saying +good-night. In his study he turned over in his mind the extraordinary +story he had heard. If what Jack had told him was the truth, Fernhurst +football, which was to him, and to many others, the finest thing in the +world, had become little better than league professionalism. Bribes were +being offered for men to be laid out. He had never heard of such a +thing. There was no one to remind him that the offering of bribes means +little to a schoolboy, and the mere talk of "laying people out" still +less. It is all a question of custom, of the sense in which phrases are +used by the particular speakers who use them.</p> + +<p>There are certain words which to-day are vulgar and disgusting, but +which in the days of Shakespeare would have been used in any company +without a blush. And this is so merely because time has given the words +a different significance. Indeed, from the point of view of the average +person, to leave schoolmasters out of the question, the idea of offering +bribes to lay out athletes is revolting. And so it is. It is +unsportsmanlike, unworthy of English traditions. But when Gordon offered +Burgoyne a shilling to lay out Hazlitt, although he said it was a +bargain, he meant nothing at all by his offer. He knew that Burgoyne, +once he got on the field, could think of nothing but the game, and would +forget all about Hazlitt and himself. Everyone offered bribes, but no +one had been known to receive a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[Pg 191]</a></span> penny of them. Still, Buller could not +be expected to know this. He saw in the affair a menace to the future of +Fernhurst sport. Jack's story might be only idle chatter, or it might +have some foundation. At any rate he had got to go to the bottom, and +sift out the truth for the good of Fernhurst.</p> + +<p>After evening chapel on the Sunday before the match the Chief sent for +Gordon; when Gordon arrived he found Harding, the head of the House, +there too. The Chief looked worried. There was a row in prospect. Gordon +racked his brain to think of anything that could possibly have been +found out about him. Of course there were many old troubles that might +have been raked up. He had always realised that the hand of the past +would still be near the shoulder of the present. Yet, what had he been +doing recently?</p> + +<p>"Isn't Hazelton coming, Harding?" The Chief was speaking.</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir; but I believe he is collecting chapel cards."</p> + +<p>Hazelton too. Complications, forsooth. There was an awkward pause. Then +Hazelton came in, quite at his ease.</p> + +<p>"Sir, the chapel cards; and I believe you wanted to see me, sir?"</p> + +<p>"Ah, yes, Hazelton; put the cards on my desk. Now, Caruthers, I want to +ask you a question before the head and captain of the House that I hope +you will answer truthfully. Did you offer a boy in Mr. Christy's house +money to 'lay out,' I believe that was the phrase, a boy in Mr. Buller's +house in the recent house match."</p> + +<p>Gordon thought for a moment. Had he? It was quite likely he had; but he +could not remember. Then the scene came back. The crowd in front of the +pavilion. Burgoyne: Hazlitt in the offing.</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir," he replied, after the instant's hesitation.</p> + +<p>"You seem rather doubtful about it."</p> + +<p>"Well, sir, I was trying to remember whether I had or not."</p> + +<p>The Chief was nettled by such apparent callousness.</p> + +<p>"You talk as if you were in the habit of offering such rewards. Are +you?"</p> + +<p>"Well, sir, it is the sort of thing any fellow might do."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[Pg 192]</a></span></p> + +<p>"That is neither here nor there. I doubt the truth of your statement +very much. But even if the school had become so generally demoralised as +you suggest, that would not be any excuse for you. As a matter of fact, +how much did you offer the boy?"</p> + +<p>"A shilling, sir."</p> + +<p>"Was that a genuine offer, now? If he had done what you wanted him to, +would you have paid him?"</p> + +<p>Gordon was now well out of his depth. Explanation seemed impossible. Had +the offer been genuine? He supposed it had. If the tick had been laid +out, Gordon would have been so delighted that he would have stood the +whole of Christy's drinks all round.</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir," he said quite cheerfully.</p> + +<p>A smile that rose to Hazelton's lips was instantly suppressed.</p> + +<p>"Ah! rather like hiring assassins in the cheap novelettes. What was your +idea? Did you think Hazlitt would have been a help to the School side?"</p> + +<p>"No, sir. I hardly think he would have been of much assistance to them."</p> + +<p>The idea of Hazlitt being of any use to anyone was very amusing. Gordon +always saw the funny side of everything. As a ghost, he would probably +have found something cynically amusing in his own funeral.</p> + +<p>"Then you did it merely out of spite, I suppose. Do you consider that +the football field is a suitable opportunity for the paying-off of old +scores?"</p> + +<p>Now, suppose Gordon had poured out the story of how Felston had sworn to +lay him out in the Three Cock, and how Hazlitt and others had flung the +words "Three Cock" into his face for half a term, it would have been +certainly an extenuation. But he realised that Hazelton was present. It +would not be the proper thing, it would indeed be unpardonable cheek, +for him to talk in the presence of the House captain as though his +chances of playing in the Three Cock were to be taken for granted. It +would be madness to imperil his chances on the football field, merely +because he wanted an excuse for a silly little row.</p> + +<p>And so he did not answer.</p> + +<p>"Well, Caruthers, I sha'n't want you any more. Thank<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[Pg 193]</a></span> you for being so +frank in the matter. As far as I can see, it is the only extenuating +circumstance. Harding, Hazelton, one minute."</p> + +<p>Gordon returned to the studies amused rather than disconcerted. He quite +saw that the Chief, with his high ideals, would refuse to allow two +blacks to make a white, even if that black were of the grey-black shade +of which colour boys were allowed to get their school suits made, and +which produced anything from light grey to dark brown. He understood and +respected the Chief's point of view entirely. But with "the Bull" he was +furious. No one but "the Bull" could have reported him; and, "the Bull" +after all, was an old Fernhurstian. He knew the school customs, and +unless his memory was decaying, must have remembered the wild way in +which boys boast. He must have known it; but "for the sake of +Fernhurst," Buller would say, "this leprosy has to be rooted out." +Gordon began to wonder whether it was really a love of Fernhurst that +was his standard for all actions, or simply a supreme egotism, which +embraced alternately his own interest, his house's interest, and +Fernhurst's interest, but never, under any circumstances, never the +School House interest!</p> + +<p>Hazelton thought much the same. At the Chief's request he made a +characteristic speech to the House after prayers.</p> + +<p>"Someone who imagines himself a sportsman, and who refuses to disclose +his name, but whose identity we can only guess at, has been making some +silly remarks about certain play and behaviour in the House. Of course +that is all rot. But people have strange ideas, especially those in +authority, and we have to be very careful. So for heaven's sake don't go +shouting out that you are going to lay everyone out. It only means a +row, and, after all, you can do it just as well without talking about +it."</p> + +<p>There was a roar of laughter; the old system survived.</p> + +<p>Next morning in break Gordon passed Buller on his way to the tuck-shop. +"The Bull" cut him dead.</p> + +<p>The day after, the Chief having made up his mind on the matter, told +Gordon that his Sixth Form privileges had been taken away.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[Pg 194]</a></span></p> + +<p>Before a large crowd, in full view of Chief's study window, Gordon that +afternoon burnt his straw hat with the Sixth form ribbon on it, and +stood over the smouldering ashes proclaiming in tragic tones: "The glory +has departed from Israel." His old passion for a theatrical piece of +rodomontade was not yet subdued.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>For a short time Gordon was rather worried about "l'affaire Hazlitt," as +Tester called it. But he soon forgot it entirely in the excitement of +the approaching match. Everyone talked about it; there was no other +topic of conversation. The night before the match Lovelace could not sit +still for a minute. He strode up and down the study murmuring to +himself: "We can't lose; we can't; we can't!" Someone looked in to ask +if he was going to prepare the Livy.</p> + +<p>"Livy?" he gasped. "Who could do any work the night before a house +match?"</p> + +<p>The someone retired discomforted.</p> + +<p>"You know it's absurd," Lovelace went on, "for a master to imagine +anyone could do work when the house matches are on. The other day +Claremont had me up and asked me why my work had been so bad lately. I +told him that the house matches were so exciting that I could not +concentrate my mind on anything else. He looked at me vacantly and said: +'Well, are they really? I don't know whom they excite; they don't excite +me.'"</p> + +<p>"Dear old poseur; he's keen enough on his own house," Gordon answered +drowsily from the depths of the hammock, in which he had almost fallen +asleep. He felt incapable of thought. For weeks he had looked forward to +the match, and now it was so close he felt strangely languorous, tired +in brain and body.</p> + +<p>Rain fell steadily all night, and though it cleared off about break, the +ground was already under water. It was a cold, gusty day.</p> + +<p>By lunch the whole House was unbalanced. There was much loud laughter, +then sudden silences; an atmosphere of restlessness lay over everyone. +Very slowly the minutes dragged by. Gordon sat silent in a far corner of +the pavilion. At last the whistle blew, the magenta and black<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[Pg 195]</a></span> jerseys +trailed out on to the field. A cheer rose from the line.</p> + +<p>The next hour passed in a whirl of white jerseys, gradually turned black +with mud, of magenta forms dashing on to the School forwards, of wild, +inarticulate black insects bawling on the touch-line. The pervading +impression was mud. Everything was mud; he was mud, the ball was mud. +Lovelace was indistinguishable. His own voice leading the scrum seemed +strangely unreal. There was a vague feeling of disquiet when, early in +the first half, he found himself standing under the posts, while the +Buller's half placed the ball for Whitaker to convert. Nothing tangible; +then the disquiet passed, the magenta jerseys swept forward, dirty white +forms came up and went down before them. Morgan rolled over the line. A +kick failed. Half-time came, Hazelton came on, and said a lot of things +to him, which he answered unconsciously.</p> + +<p>A whistle blew. Once more the magenta jerseys swept everything before +them. There seemed no white jerseys at all. Numberless times he watched +Lovelace taking the place kick. He thought he heard Mansell shrieking: +"Heave it into them! Well done! Now you've got them!" Once he had a +sensation of kicking the ball past the halves; he seemed clear, the +full-back rushed up and fell in front of him, the ball stopped for a +second, then rolled on. He heard someone coming up behind him; the line +grew dimly white under his feet; he fell on the ball; there was a roar +of cheering. The whistle went in short, sharp blasts. The game was over.</p> + +<p>And then he realised that the House had won, that his hopes were +satisfied, that the Buller crowd had been routed, that the cup would +shimmer on the mantelpiece. A wave of wild exultation came over him. The +House poured over the touch-line, yelling and shouting. It was all "a +wonder and a wild desire."</p> + +<p>Then came the glorious reaction, "the bright glory of after battle +wine." The tea in the tuck-shop. They were out of training. Then the +perfect laziness of lying full-length in his hammock, talking of the +splendid victory. Then came the House tea. It was much like the Roman +triumph. The whole House sat in their places ten minutes<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[Pg 196]</a></span> before six. +Tablecloths were removed; everyone took down heavy books, boots, sticks. +Then when the Abbey struck six, Lovelace led the side into hall, up to +the dais, to the Sixth Form table. Everyone shouted, roared, beat the +tables. Dust arose. It was very hard to breathe. The Chief came and made +a speech. There was more shouting, more shrieking, more beating of +tables.</p> + +<p>At last hall came with its gift of real rest. Gordon lay in the hammock, +Lovelace reposed with his feet on the table. Everyone came in to +congratulate them. Hazelton invited them in second hall to supper in the +games study; the gramophone played rag-time choruses. Gordon sang all of +them. Everyone was gloriously, unutterably happy.</p> + +<p>Meredith sent a wire: "Well done, House: now for the Two Cock."</p> + +<p>In the dormitory Hazelton was talking over the match.</p> + +<p>"By Jove, when that side is the Three Cock, we shall win by fifty +points. Lord, I do envy you, Caruthers! You will see the day, and be in +at the finish. I shall only shout from the touch-line." And he added: +"My God, I shall shout, too."</p> + +<p>There was nothing to mar the extreme joyousness of life. The world lay +at Gordon's feet. He had only to stoop to pick it up.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_V_DUAL_PERSONALITY" id="CHAPTER_V_DUAL_PERSONALITY"></a>CHAPTER V: DUAL PERSONALITY</h2> + + +<p>The Two Cock was always played a fortnight after the Thirds, and during +that fortnight the outhouses had to play off among themselves three +preliminary rounds. For them it was a remarkably strenuous time. The two +best outhouses sides had, in fact, to play four house matches in twelve +days. But it was possible for the School House to take things easily for +at least half a week. And these three days out of training meant a lot +to Gordon and others, who would have to play not only in the Two Cock, +but most probably in the Three Cock as well. It prevented staleness;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[Pg 197]</a></span> +and staleness was the great danger that all outhouse sides had to face.</p> + +<p>The week after the Thirds was regarded as a fairly slack time before the +strenuous week that culminated in the Two Cock. There would probably be +only one game—on the Saturday; and that a short +quarter-of-an-hour-each-way affair. It was usually a quite uneventful +time. This term, however, an occurrence took place that had a big effect +on the growth of Gordon's character.</p> + +<p>Finnemore had caught influenza; the Chief had to go for a week to +Oxford. The Sixth was at a loose end. Various masters took it in various +subjects, or at least were supposed to. Most of the week was spent in +the studies, as the master in charge forgot to turn up.</p> + +<p>One afternoon, Ferrers was to take them in English. But Ferrers was +engaged in writing an article on the "New Public School Boy" for <i>The +Cornhill Magazine</i>, and wanted to be quiet. He sent the form to their +studies to write an essay on a typical Ferrers subject: "Poetry is in +the first instance the outpouring of a rebel." It had to be shown up by +six o'clock.</p> + +<p>Gordon revelled in it. During the long afternoon he poured out his +fierce soul. His life was now a strange paradox. Half the time he +thought of poetry, worshipping any sort of rebellion against the +conventional standards of living. At other times he was like the +ordinary Philistine, blindly worshipping games, never seeing that they +led nowhere, and were as a blind alley. This afternoon Gordon forgot +everything but Swinburne, Byron, Rossetti, and the poets of revolt. He +stigmatised Wordsworth as a doddering old man, not knowing that his +return to nature was the greatest revolution in English literature. In a +text-book he saw Shelley described as a rebel. He got a copy of his +works out of the library, but found little there resembling the work of +his own favourite. However, he quoted a verse out of <i>O World, O Life, O +Time!</i> and decided to search more deeply later on. The bulk of the essay +was a glowing eulogy of <i>The Hymn to Proserpine</i> and <i>Don Juan</i>. It was +very dogmatic, very absurd in parts, but it had the merit of enthusiasm, +and, at any rate, showed a genuine appreciation of a certain class of +literature.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[Pg 198]</a></span></p> + +<p>Well satisfied, he made his way across to the Sixth Form room, and found +Ferrers gazing at a pile of papers, as Hercules must have gazed at the +Augean stables.</p> + +<p>"Um," said Ferrers, "who are you?"</p> + +<p>"Caruthers, sir. I have brought you the essay you set the Sixth."</p> + +<p>"Right; let's have a look at it; hope it is better than the stuff I have +just been reading."</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes, um—ah," he murmured to himself, as he read on. There was +clearly some hankering after style, some searching for an idea. Ferrers +dearly wanted to smile at the attack on Wordsworth, and the comparison +between Swinburne and Milton (whom Gordon had never read), all in favour +of the Pre-Raphaelite. But he knew that it would be a fatal thing to do; +it would seem superior; the master must come down to the boy's level. He +read on to the end of the wild, sprawling peroration.</p> + +<p>"Not bad stuff, Caruthers, not bad at all. Far and away better than +anything I have so far struck. I must talk to you again about this; I am +glad you love Byron; I do myself; people run him down—fools, that is. +You stick to Byron, he is all right. And don't despise the rest too +much. Have a shot at Keats and Shelley. They are not so powerful, but +good all the same, very fine stuff.... Try <i>The Pot of Basil</i>. Must rush +off now. Are you in training? No! Not yet. Right. Come up to tea +to-morrow. Good-night."</p> + +<p>And thus began a friendship that was the most permanent in Gordon's +school career.</p> + +<p>Every Friday he used to climb up the hill past Rogers's house, and step +out down the white London road to Ferrers's cosy little home. Over a cup +of tea he read an essay. Ferrers would lie back listening, and then +discuss it with him. He sometimes blamed the actual expression of it, +but he never found fault on questions of taste. He let Gordon browse at +will in the fields of English literature; he suggested books he thought +Gordon would like; he did not try to rush him on. There was heaps of +time; he would let Gordon develop on his own lines.</p> + +<p>From these evenings Gordon derived a pleasure that he found it hard to +explain. He was thankful to get away from the footer talk, the +inevitable intrigues, scandals, all<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[Pg 199]</a></span> in fact that went to form the daily +curriculum. The world of ideas was far more attractive. Ferrers, +although himself a quarter-mile Blue, looked upon games as a recreation, +and upon school life as a mud-heap that had to be washed clean. Poetry, +drama, the modern novel, these were what Ferrers loved; and Gordon was +glad to find someone who thought like this. He felt uplifted after his +talks with Ferrers, he walked back to the House buoyant, as it were on +wings. Then as the school gates rose before him, and he heard the sound +of a football bouncing in the court, the old routine caught him once +more. He plunged into the old life with the same zest. He devised a new +scheme for avoiding work, thought out an idea for teaching forwards to +heel, laughed, discussed athletics and was well content. He tried to +analyse his feelings, but could not. He was now two separate persons. At +times he was the dreamer, the lover of art and poetry; at another the +politician, the fighter who lived every minute of his life deeply to the +full, with one fixed aim before him. Gordon wondered if this apparent +paradox in himself was in any way an answer of the enigma that an +artist's life so frequently was utterly different from the broad +outlines of his work. Browning had talked of a man having "two +soul-sides." Had he two soul-sides, one for the world, the other for +art—and Ferrers? But then Browning had spoken contemptuously of the +"one to face the world with." Surely games were as good as poetry? Or +weren't they, after all? He felt an unanswerable doubt, and at such +times of introspection he would stop trying to think and merely let +himself be carried on in whatever course fortune chose to bear him. And +so the Jekyll and Hyde business went on.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[Pg 200]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VI_THE_GAMES_COMMITTEE" id="CHAPTER_VI_THE_GAMES_COMMITTEE"></a>CHAPTER VI: THE GAMES COMMITTEE</h2> + + +<p>In the mud and the rain the School House Two Cock team, coming up early +from a puntabout, joined the crowd watching the last stages of the +Buller's <i>v.</i> Claremont's house match, and cheered Claremont's to the +echo. It was a remarkably fine game. When "no side" was called, the +score was nine all. Extra time was played, and just before the close, +amid great enthusiasm, a limping Claremont's forward fell over the line +from the line out. None shouted louder than the School House contingent. +Everyone had grown tired of the Buller's domination. They had been +successful too long. For two years they had not lost a single house +match. The Thirds had been their first reverse; but even then they had +triumphed over all their outhouse opponents. This was the first +occasion, since Gordon had been at Fernhurst, that the Buller's colours +had been lowered by an outhouse side. It signified the breaking up of +their rule. Gordon shouted like the Vengeance following the tumbrils. He +roared loudly under "the Bull's" nose, stamped off the field to tea, +without a thought of the effect that his demonstration might have had +upon "the Bull" himself.</p> + +<p>As it happened, to "the Bull" the incident meant a lot.</p> + +<p>"What is the reason of it?" he said to Felston that evening. "How have I +made these School House men, and especially Caruthers, hate me? They +seem to delight in the defeat of my house. Of course, I can understand +their wanting their house to beat mine, but why should they worry so +much about Claremont's doing so? I can't understand it; and Caruthers +will be leading the school scrum in two years. We must not have bad +feeling between the houses. Honest rivalry is all right; but there seems +so much spite about it all nowadays. It was not so when I was a boy, and +it wasn't so three years ago. I don't understand."</p> + +<p>A climax was reached in the Two Cock, a match rendered famous in +Fernhurst history by the amazing refereeing of a new master named +Princeford, who had come as a stop-<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[Pg 201]</a></span>gap for one term. The match was +played in the mud and slush, and was entirely devoid of incident. The +play rolled from one end of the ground to the other. Archie performed +prodigies of valour; Gordon did some brilliant things; Collins was quite +fierce; but good football was impossible under the circumstances. Early +in the first half, amid tremendous cheering, Lovelace scored a fine try, +by the touch-line. There was no doubt about it. The school lined up +behind the posts. But Princeford would have none of it. He came up, +fussing and important:</p> + +<p>"No try, there. Knock on. Scrum!"</p> + +<p>A gasp went up from both sides. Was the man blind?</p> + +<p>"What is the fool talking about?" thundered Gordon.</p> + +<p>Princeford was round in a second: "Who said that?"</p> + +<p>Gordon stepped forward.</p> + +<p>"Ah, I shall remember you."</p> + +<p>The game continued; the outhouses amazed at such luck; the School House +sullen and indignant. The play developed into a series of forward rushes +resulting in nothing. It was an amazingly dull game to watch. From one +of these rushes Gordon got clear; the full-back fell on the ball, Gordon +took a huge kick at the ball. One had to kick hard on such a sticky +ground. He missed the ball, and caught the back on the side of the head.</p> + +<p>"Oh, damned sorry," he said.</p> + +<p>It was quite unintentional, as would have been obvious to anyone who +knew anything about the game. No one would be fool enough to kick the +man, when by kicking the ball he might score a try. But Princeford was +on Gordon like a shot. He began to lecture him before all the masters on +unsportsmanlike play, and threatened to send him off the field. Gordon +glowered at him. It was a combat of temperaments. The game resulted in a +draw. No try was scored. It was a dull performance, occasionally +relieved by individual brilliance. Everyone was disappointed.</p> + +<p>Sullen and silent, the House side trooped up to tea. They had won the +match, of that there was no doubt. And they had been done out of their +victory.</p> + +<p>The limit was reached when, muddy and cold, they found that the new +boot-boy had forgotten to heat the boiler, and there was only cold water +to wash in.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[Pg 202]</a></span></p> + +<p>The changing-room was filled with the sound of oaths and curses.</p> + +<p>But when the effects of Princeford's refereeing and the boot-boy's +forgetfulness had worn off slightly, the House felt more content. After +all, they had not been beaten. They had got the cup for half the year at +any rate. Things might be worse. And when in hall that night Hazelton +gave him his House cap, all Gordon's rage was overwhelmed by the feeling +that his dearest object had been achieved. The boot-boy was forgiven; +Princeford faded into the background of insignificance from which he had +temporarily emerged.</p> + +<p>But the matter did not end there: other fingers were itching to be in +the pie. Christy and Rogers, walking up from the field together, came to +the conclusion that that incorrigible nuisance Caruthers had disgraced +Fernhurst football. Princeford was a master from Sedbury; he had only +come for one term as a special concession, because his headmaster was a +great friend of the Chief. What sort of an impression would he carry +away of Fernhurst manners and sportsmanship, if Caruthers should be +allowed to go unpunished, not only for playing a deliberately foul game, +but also for using most foul language? And so these two, neither of whom +knew anything about football, while both were immensely aware of their +own importance, made their way to "the Bull's" study to pour out their +grievances. "The Bull" was laid up with influenza, and had been +prevented from watching the match. They found him lying on his sofa. For +over an hour they elaborated the tale of Gordon's misconduct.</p> + +<p>They pointed out that the object of house matches was to promote a +keenness in school football, and to provide interest for those who were +not good enough to get into the school team. The School House had for +years during the Easter term isolated itself from the rest of the +school. It had considered itself as apart, a school in itself. Such an +attitude militated against <i>esprit de corps</i>; it made the house appear +more important than the school. It led to bad feeling between houses. In +Caruthers were developed all the worst faults of this system. His +keenness for his house had so far drowned his affection for his school +that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[Pg 203]</a></span> he used any tactics to reach his end. He took defeat in an +unsportsmanlike manner. This afternoon's play had made this clear. And +what was worst of all was that Caruthers had a sufficient personality to +attract others. "Moths are always attracted by the flame," said Rogers +pompously. If Caruthers were dealt with effectively at once, this +poisonous School House notion of its own importance would collapse. Was +it going to be put an end to? That was the question they put to Mr +Buller; and they took over an hour in putting it.</p> + +<p>"The Bull" listened to all they had to say, and as soon as they began +repeating themselves, and he realised they had given all the information +they could, told them he had now to dress for dinner, but that he would +consider the matter carefully and let them know his opinion later on. +Like two obsequious courtiers before an Eastern monarch, Rogers and +Christy bowed themselves out, inarticulate with advice and last words.</p> + +<p>"The Bull" smiled. He was too big a man to be taken in by such obvious +hypocrisy. These men amused him greatly, especially because they both +thought he took them seriously. But, for all that, he saw that there was +a good deal of truth in what they had said. He wished he had been at the +game himself. It was so hard to form an estimate on the strength of +partial onlookers. Princeford's refereeing might have been exasperating; +but, damn it, even if it had, a sportsman should not make a fuss about +it! It was all part of the game. But Caruthers did not treat a House +match as a game, but as the real business of life. That was what +rankled. Caruthers would laugh when he dropped a catch in a Colts match, +or missed his collar on the upper; but in a House match his face would +be set, his eyes wide and eager. Humour had for the moment ceased to +exist, as far as he was concerned. He clearly preferred his house to his +school. Was he stirring up any feeling between the outhouses and the +School House? He remembered an occasion terms back when Gordon in a +House game had shouted out: "Let the swine have it." Then, again, there +was that affair of bribing Burgoyne to lay out one of his men. And then +the incident this afternoon. Outwardly he was doing his very best to +separate<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[Pg 204]</a></span> the interests of his house from those of the school, to split +Fernhurst into two factions. But supposing, after all, these were merely +outward signs, supposing Gordon's excessive keenness, coupled with the +rash hotheadedness of youth, led him where his cooler judgment would +have checked him. If that were so, and if strong measures were taken, +might not his keenness change into a hatred of Fernhurst, might it not +lead him to open antagonism with the rest of the school? Punishment +might merely inflame and not crush him, while if his feelings were only +the natural effervescence of youth, they would wear down in time, and +then all would be well. Yet he realised that it is the things which show +that count in this world, a man is judged not by what he is, but by what +he appears to be. Everything pointed to the belief that Gordon was +working against the interests of Fernhurst; whether he actually meant to +do so or not was immaterial. He had to be dealt with as if it was +deliberate. It might be hard on him, but it was not the interests of the +individual, but of the community, that had to be considered.</p> + +<p>"The Bull" sent for Akerman, the school captain, after chapel on Sunday +morning.</p> + +<p>"Akerman, I want to speak to you about Caruther's behaviour in the Two +Cock yesterday afternoon. Of course, I did not see what happened, but +from what I have heard I think measures ought to be taken. It is a +serious matter. Light measures are no good. I know Caruthers; you have +got to crush him, or he will laugh at you. I think what is required is a +thrashing from the Games Committee. He is bound to be awed by the +disapproval of a body representing Fernhurst football. I suppose now +that the Games Committee wouldn't raise any objection? What about +Hazelton?"</p> + +<p>"Well, sir, Hazelton went to the matron last night, and they discovered +he had got mumps. I just passed him on the way to the sanatorium."</p> + +<p>"Um! That means there is no School House representative. There must be +one. It would not do for it to appear a school thing, got up against a +School House boy. It would only help to alienate the two parties still +more. Let's see, who is the next senior man in the School House?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[Pg 205]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Pilcher, sir."</p> + +<p>Pilcher was one of those people who, though quite efficient at +everything—he was in the Upper Sixth—pass through the school without +leaving any mark behind them. He was outside three-quarter, and was well +worth his place in the side, but he was in no way a blood. He was never +seen. He was always in his study. His was a blameless, uneventful +career.</p> + +<p>"He won't raise any objection, will he?"</p> + +<p>"I shouldn't think so, sir."</p> + +<p>Akerman had difficulty in not smiling.</p> + +<p>"Very well, then, you had better call a meeting of the Games Committee +this afternoon and talk over the matter. If anyone makes a fuss, say I +agree with it; and I expect it will be all right."</p> + +<p>There was no need, however, for any recourse to the oracle. The Games +Committee consisted of the captains of each house. None of them cared +the least what happened to Caruthers; he was nothing to them. Pilcher +supposed it was all right. The grand remonstrance was passed.</p> + +<p>On Monday at twelve-thirty Gordon was summoned by a fag to attend in the +school library. The six members of the Games Committee sat around a +circular table on which lay two canes. It all looked very impressive.</p> + +<p>Akerman rose. He began to read a speech off a piece of school paper. +Gordon had wondered why he had been so very energetic in taking down +notes during the Chief's divinity lecture that morning. The speech went +on. It was full of the inevitable platitudes about <i>esprit de corps</i> and +a sportsmanlike spirit. Now and then Akerman stumbled, and had some +difficulty in reading his own writing. If there had not hung over him +the prospect of a very severe beating, Gordon would have enjoyed himself +thoroughly. Akerman was so pricelessly absurd. The rest looked painfully +self-conscious. Why could not Akerman have learnt his speech? It was so +bad that he could not imagine anyone having any difficulty in making it +up as he went along. Akerman was afraid of expressing an opinion. He +prefaced every remark with "Mr Buller says." It gave a sense of +security. The speech ended; everyone except Gordon was relieved.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[Pg 206]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Bend over there."</p> + +<p>The beating was not so horrible an ordeal as he had expected. In the +same spirit in which the outhouse captains had raised no objection, +merely because they did not care in the least what happened to Gordon, +so now they did not take any particular trouble to hurt him. The ordeal +was rather a fiasco.</p> + +<p>A halting oration had led to an even tamer execution. As Gordon walked +down the library steps he was painfully aware of having been the +principal character in a scene of sustained bathos. The body that +represented Fernhurst football had scarcely risen to the dignity of its +trust.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>And then a sudden wave of feeling swept over him; and he saw the +horrible unfairness of the whole thing. It did not matter that Akerman +had made himself utterly ludicrous, or that the rest of the Games +Committee had been led to carry out a programme which they knew to be +hypocritical. It was the spirit that mattered. And at the back of it all +moved "the Bull" pulling the strings. In front of the School House +porch, clearly, dispassionately, Gordon put his case.</p> + +<p>"I know when I play football I get a bit excited; I know my feet fly all +over the place. They did that ever since I was a baby. I know I +sometimes lose my temper. But I have been like that always. I have +played the same game in the Thirds, and in the Colts, my first term and +yesterday. But nobody said anything then. Do you remember the Milton +match? I went a bit far then: I was fearfully ashamed of myself +afterwards; I thought my play had been a disgrace to the school. But did +'the Bull' think so? Good Lord, no. He gave the side a jaw, and said +that they were a disgrace to the school, with the exception of me! I +played hard and all that, while the rest slacked and funked! I was +singled out for praise in the roughest game I have ever played. And now +what happens? The House begins to win its matches; 'the Bull' sees his +house losing cup after cup. He and Akerman and the other fools think +something must be done. So they wait for an opportunity and then give me +a Games Committee beating, to try and frighten the rest of the House. +They<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[Pg 207]</a></span> talked about my unsportsmanlike play. They did not mind when I +played rough against Milton. Oh dear, no! But when they find their own +dirty shins being hacked, they sit up and shriek. And they wait till +Hazelton stops out, too!"</p> + +<p>Everyone agreed with him. From Dan to Beersheba there was but one +opinion. Buller had not been playing the game. The authorities were +against them. The House would have to cling together to protect its +rights. They could not have Buller trampling on them, dictating terms. +He had begun the contest; they would be prepared for him next time. An +aura of antagonism overhung the grey studies. Members of Buller's house +were dealt with in the sweeping delineation of "the swine across the +road." For the rest of the term, every time Princeford passed the School +House on his way to the common room, a whistle blew from the dark +recesses of the studies, and some voice shouted: "No try; off-side!" +"The Bull" himself was looked on with a general suspicion. The +inevitable had happened. "The Bull" in his attempt to sacrifice the +individual to the community had forgotten that the community is at the +mercy of the individual. The world is composed of a number of +individuals round whom parties and nations cling. "The Bull" had made an +attack on the individual, and the community that Gordon represented took +up his attitude of defiance, strengthening his resolve not to give way, +to keep the House independent of the tyranny that drew five outhouses +together as one. The House was not to be coerced. Its members would be +free to think, to do, to speak as they thought best. From that moment +Gordon took the interests of the House and not Fernhurst as the standard +by which to judge all his thoughts and actions.</p> + +<p>And so it happened that just at this moment, when the House was bubbling +over with suppressed wrath, a chance was given them of showing their +independence and defiance.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[Pg 208]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VII_REBELLION" id="CHAPTER_VII_REBELLION"></a>CHAPTER VII: REBELLION</h2> + + +<p>On the Wednesday after the Games Committee's activities in the library, +Ferrers banged into Betteridge's study, his arms laden with books. There +was a Stoics meeting on the next Saturday, and the card drawn up at the +beginning of the term announced that there would be a reading of <i>Arms +and the Man</i>, by Bernard Shaw. But Ferrers, who was now president, never +took any notice of the programme, which he invariably altered a day or +two before the meeting. This imposed a considerable strain on those who +had to get up fresh parts and prepare different speeches at a second's +notice. But as the alterations were nearly always an improvement no one +minded.</p> + +<p>"Sorry, Betteridge—had to change Stoics' thing. Just picked up +this—<i>Younger Generation</i>, by Stanley Houghton—ordered fifteen copies +from Sidgwick & Jackson—good publishers. Do you know them? I've marked +our parts—here they are—no more time. Good-night."</p> + +<p>He was gone in a second. And the unfortunate secretary was left with the +lot of distributing copies and drawing up fresh notices. It was just on +lock-up, so there was no time to do anything till the next day. He +settled himself down to read the play. In a very short while he was +thoroughly engrossed; by the time he had reached the end of the first +act he had no doubt that Saturday would witness the most successful +meeting of the Stoics since the historic occasion when Macdonald and +Rogers had been persuaded to speak on opposite sides on "Trade +Unionism," and Rogers had been most gloriously routed.</p> + +<p>Betteridge went in search of Tester and Gordon.</p> + +<p>"Come up to my study and read a play Ferrers has got hold of for the +Stoics. It's glorious stuff."</p> + +<p>"All right," said Gordon. "I will go and fetch Rudd."</p> + +<p>"For God's sake, don't bring that outsider."</p> + +<p>"Oh, hell, why not? He is quite respectable; and, after all, he is one +of the best of our regular readers."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[Pg 209]</a></span></p> + +<p>"All right then: fetch him along."</p> + +<p>Since their scandalous ramble Gordon had become more or less friends +with Rudd, and had to a large extent helped to make his life more +bearable.</p> + +<p>The four sat silent, reading the play. There was occasionally a +suppressed laugh: otherwise no one spoke at all.</p> + +<p>In under an hour they had all finished.</p> + +<p>"Jolly good," said Gordon. "I do like seeing this younger generation up +against the rotten conventions of the mid-Victorian era."</p> + +<p>"Deal gently with them," murmured Betteridge. "Their horsehair +arm-chairs have stood the test of time very well."</p> + +<p>"Too well: but their Puritan ideas are in the melting-pot now. Their day +is over."</p> + +<p>"You know I am not sure that the Stoics is the right audience for a play +like this," said Tester.</p> + +<p>"Good heavens, man," protested Gordon, "you don't think it would corrupt +their morals, do you?"</p> + +<p>"Of course not, you ass! I don't think they would understand it: that's +all. They will laugh at it, and think it funny. But they won't really +see what Houghton is driving at. They won't understand that he is trying +to cut away the shackles of mature thought that are impeding the limbs +of youth. The lads in the Remove will be frightfully amused; they will +think the father an awful old fool, and the son the devil of a rip. They +won't see that both of them are real characters, and that a hundred +families to-day are working out their own little tragedy just on these +very lines."</p> + +<p>"But surely there are really no fathers quite so absurd as old Kennion. +Does not Houghton exaggerate the type, as Dickens exaggerates all his +types?"</p> + +<p>"Oh no, he's real enough; I expect there are a good many like him living +in Fernhurst now."</p> + +<p>The truth of the last remark was brought home three days later.</p> + +<p>On the Friday before the debate Ferrers got a bad attack of influenza. +There would be no one to take the chair. Moved by an instinct of +courtesy, Ferrers wrote to Christy a little note, enclosing the book, +and asking him to preside.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[Pg 210]</a></span></p> + +<p>On Saturday morning Christy went up to Betteridge in break.</p> + +<p>"Ah, Betteridge, Mr Ferrers has asked me to take the chair at the +Stoics. Well, I myself would not be present when such a play was read. +It is aimed at the very roots of domestic morality. It might do very +well in a small circle of Senior boys. But it would have a very serious +effect on young boys who are not as mature as you or I are. None of my +house will attend; and, from a conversation I had with Mr Rogers and Mr +Claremont, I am fairly certain they will not allow their houses to go +either. It would be really much better to wait until Mr Ferrers is well +again before anything is done. It would be quite easy to postpone the +meeting, I suppose."</p> + +<p>"Oh yes, sir, of course."</p> + +<p>Betteridge was not paying much attention: he was thinking hard. The bell +for school rang.</p> + +<p>"That will be all right then, Betteridge."</p> + +<p>"Quite, thank you, sir."</p> + +<p>Christy, bubbling with satisfaction, rushed off to tell the head of +Buller's that the meeting had been postponed. Things were turning out +well for him. He had obtained the beating of Caruthers, and now he had +most distinctly scored off Ferrers. He did not stop to think that both +these campaigns had been carried on behind his enemy's back.</p> + +<p>But in his moment of triumph over Ferrers he did not pause to think +whether he had also triumphed over the School House spirit of antagonism +which he himself had stirred up.</p> + +<p>During the half-hour between morning school and lunch, Betteridge, +Tester and Gordon held a council of war.</p> + +<p>"Of course, whatever we do," said Betteridge, "is bound to be in the +nature of farce. Three houses, you see, won't turn up at all, +Abercrombie's hardly ever sends anyone, and I don't mind betting that +Christy gets round 'the Bull' somehow."</p> + +<p>"Yes; but, confound it all," said Gordon, "are we going to be dictated +to by these outhouse potentates? The Stoics is more a School House +society than anything else; and, what's more, it is going to remain so. +These outhouse men can come or go if they want to. It does not matter to +us.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[Pg 211]</a></span> Let us read this play with a School House cast, carry the thing +through somehow, and show these fools like Christy what we think of +them. Now is our chance of proving our independence."</p> + +<p>"Won't there be a hell of a row, though?" said Betteridge reluctantly.</p> + +<p>"What if there is, man?" said Gordon. "We can't help that. Somehow or +other that play is going to be read. Let this evening be a symbol of the +House's attitude. These houses have flung down the glove. They beat our +forwards when we win matches, and they try and stop our meetings. Damn +it, we'll pick up the glove!"</p> + +<p>"Yes," shouted Gordon, "and fling it in their snivelling faces."</p> + +<p>Betteridge drew up a huge notice of the meeting after hall and posted it +on the school board. It ran as follows:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>In spite of the fact that many of the usual readers will be +prevented from attending the Second Meeting of the Stoics this +term, the Society will read, at seven-thirty, in the School +House Reading Room,</p> + +<p><i>THE YOUNGER GENERATION</i></p> + +<p>By <span class="smcap">Stanley Houghton</span></p> + +<p>Cast ....</p> + +<p>(<i>Signed</i>) <span class="smcap">C.P. Betteridge.</span></p></div> + +<p>That evening was historic. Every member of the School House attended the +meeting, the members of the day-room as well as those from the studies. +The reading-room was packed. It was a record meeting. The reading was +erratic. Parts were forced at the eleventh hour on reluctant and totally +unsuitable persons. But somehow or other they got through it in the end; +and that was all that mattered.</p> + +<p>But still it was not without a little nervousness that the conspirators +awaited developments. Christy saw the notice and fumed. Ferrers heard of +it and laughed. Rogers rushed to the Chief palpitating with rage.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[Pg 212]</a></span></p> + +<p>After lunch the Chief sent for Betteridge, and asked for a copy of <i>The +Younger Generation</i>. There was an air of nervous anticipation pervading +the studies. Just before tea the Chief sent for Betteridge again.</p> + +<p>"A very interesting play. Very modern, of course, but extremely clever. +Thank you so much for lending it me. I wish I had been at the reading. A +record attendance, I hear. Well, ask me to come next time you get as +good a play as that."</p> + +<p>There was no reference to the outhouse boycott. The Chief was very +tactful, and, moreover, he had enjoyed reading the play immensely. +Besides, it would not have done any good if he had made a fuss, +especially when he was entirely in sympathy with Betteridge.</p> + +<p>In <i>The Fernhurst School Magazine</i>, which was edited by Betteridge, +there appeared the following paragraph:—</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"On Saturday, 5th March, before a record and appreciative +audience, the Stoics read <i>The Younger Generation</i>, by Stanley +Houghton. There was no one who failed to realise the +extraordinary insight into the life of the day that made such a +work possible. The enthusiasm and applause were highly +significant, as showing what a keen interest the school is +taking in all questions of social and domestic life. There were +rather fewer representatives from the outhouses than usual, but +this was as well, as there would have been little room for +them."</p></div> + +<p>The victory of Christy was not so very complete after all.</p> + +<p>With this successful demonstration Gordon's excitement in House politics +abated.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[Pg 213]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VIII_THE_DAWNING_OF_MANY_DREAMS" id="CHAPTER_VIII_THE_DAWNING_OF_MANY_DREAMS"></a>CHAPTER VIII: THE DAWNING OF MANY DREAMS</h2> + + +<p>The Three Cock came and went, bringing with it House caps for Lovelace, +Collins and Fletcher, but it caused little stir. Everyone had foreseen +the result, and without Hazelton (ill with mumps) the House stood little +chance of keeping the score under fifty. Hostilities were declared +closed for the time being. The four weeks of training for the sports +came on, and Gordon's Sixth Form privileges were restored. For a short +time the hold of athleticism was weakened, and as it weakened, the hold +of literature became more firm.</p> + +<p>"House Caps" were always allowed a fairly slack time after the Three +Cock, and Gordon made the best of his. While the last traces of winter +were disappearing, and the evenings began to draw out into long, +lingering sunsets, he voyaged on into the unknown waters of poetry. +Keats and Shelley, names which had once meant nothing to him, now became +his living prophets. He felt his own life coloured by their +interpretations. During the days of his quest for power, when the scent +of battle had led him on, he had found inspiration only in those whose +moods coincided with his own. But now that the contest was over and +strife was merged into a temporary lull, there came a check in the fiery +search for achievements. He found pleasure in the gentler but far more +beautiful melodies of Keats. Byron and Swinburne had beaten so loudly on +their drums, and blown so forcibly on the clarion that his ears had been +deafened. But in the peaceful afterglow of satisfied desire he asked for +soft and quiet music.</p> + +<p>During this time he saw a great deal of Ferrers. Together they discussed +all the questions that to them seemed most vital. The Public School +system came in for a great deal of abuse.</p> + +<p>"A lot wants altering," Ferrers said. "Boys come here fresh from +preparatory schools. If they are clever and get into higher forms, they +are put among bigger boys, and they<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[Pg 214]</a></span> get their outlook coloured by them. +They get wrong impressions shoved into their heads, cease to think at +all, lose all sense of honesty and morality. Then the school that has +made them like this finds out what they are, and sends them away."</p> + +<p>"By Jove, that's just what Jeffries said."</p> + +<p>"Jeffries—who is Jeffries? I don't know him."</p> + +<p>"He was a splendid fellow; but, like most other people, he followed the +crowd, then got caught and had to go."</p> + +<p>"That is it; always the same. Usually the least bad are sacked, too; +never heard of a real rake getting sent away; the rakes are far too +clever. Cleverness is what counts, counts all through life. A man is +expelled only because he is not clever enough to avoid being caught, and +then the school thinks it's saving the others by sending him away. And +it does no good. The big wrong 'un stays on, only the weak one goes. +Human nature is a thing that has got to be dealt with carefully, not in +the half-hearted way it is here."</p> + +<p>Ferrers wrote a great deal about Public Schools to the various London +papers. He was fast winning a name in the educational world. But he was +always being asked to modify his statements. He raved against the +weakness of the authorities.</p> + +<p>"They don't want to know the truth," he said, "they are afraid to hear +it. 'Tell us lies,' that's what they say. 'Lull us into a false +security. A big bust-up is coming soon, but keep it off till after we +are gone.' They know their house is built on sand, running out into the +river. They want to barricade their own tiny houses for a little. I want +to go and search for the big firm land, but they are too comfortable on +their cushions and fine linen to dare to move. Oh, prophesy smooth +things!"</p> + +<p>Gordon listened intently to it all. Ferrers was his ideal. Often they +would talk of books: of the modern novel; of Compton Mackenzie, in whom +idealism and realism were one; of Rupert Brooke, the coming poet, who +was to make men believe in the beauties of this earth, instead of +hankering after an immaterial hereafter; of the Elizabethan drama, of +Marlowe, Beaumont, Webster. They were very wonderful, those hours. +Gordon felt that he had at last, after<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[Pg 215]</a></span> wandering far, come to his +continuing city. Glancing back over his last two years, he used to laugh +and say:</p> + +<p>"I don't regret them; I was happy; and the only thing to regret is +unhappiness. But I have outgrown them; they did not last. They were what +Stephen Phillips would number among the 'over-beautiful, quick fading +things.' They were good days, though. But I am happier now. I can see +the future spreading out before me. Next winter Hunter will be captain, +but I shall be second in the team and lead the forwards. It will be a +year of preparation. Then will come my year of captaincy. All the things +I wanted seem falling into my hands. 'Life is sweet, brother,' life is +sweet!"</p> + +<p>And, looking back, it seemed as if in the wild orgy of Pack Monday Fair +he had finally burnt the old garments and put on the new. That day had +been the funeral pyre of his old life; and, like Sardanapalus, it had +died of its own free will. A glorious end; no anti-climax. But the +future was still more glorious. When he watched the morning sun flicker +white on the broad Eversham road from the station to the Abbey, the +leaves breaking on the lindens, the dim lights waking in the chapel on +Sunday, he saw how far he had outgrown his old self. Now he had begun to +perceive what life's aim should be—the search for beauty. Tester had +been right when he said that beauty was the only thing worth having, the +one ideal time could not tarnish. And yet Tester was not satisfied. The +hold of the world was too strong on him. He could see where others were +going wrong, but he himself was all astray, at times morbidly wretched, +at others hilarious with excitement. It was merely a question of +temperament. Gordon saw stretching before him the fulfilment of his +hopes. There was no niche for failure. His destiny would unroll smoothly +like a great machine; he was at peace, in sympathy with a world of +beautiful ideas and dreams. At times he would feel an unreasoning anger +with the Public School system, but his rage soon cooled down. After all, +it had left him at the last unscathed, and was in the future to bring +many gifts. Others might be broken on the wheel; but he was still +sufficiently an egoist, sufficiently self-centred to be indifferent to +them. He had come through, with luck<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[Pg 216]</a></span> perhaps, but still he had come +through. That was all that mattered. He had not read Matthew Arnold's +<i>Rugby Chapel</i>. If he had, he might have recognised himself in the +pilgrim who had saved only himself, while the world was full of others, +like the Chief, who were "bringing their sheep in their hand." But +probably even if he had read the poem at that time, he would have been +too happy, too self-contented, too successful to realise its poignant +truth. And it would not have been surprising. Youth is always intolerant +and self-centred. It is only when we grow old, and see so "little done +of all we so gaily set out to do," that we suddenly appreciate that, +even if we have ourselves failed, yet if we can by our experience help +someone else to succeed, our life will not be utterly vain. Altruism is +the philosophy of middle age.</p> + +<p>On a few, but very few, occasions Gordon was temporarily roused out of +his secure atmosphere. One of these was on the last day of term, when a +letter appeared in <i>The Fernhurst School Magazine</i> suggesting that the +Three Cock should be changed into a Two Cock, since the School House had +for the last few years proved itself so incapable of holding out against +the strong outhouse combination of three houses against one. Much of +what the writer said was true. The House numbered only about seventy, +while each outhouse contained some forty boys, with perhaps six day boys +attached to each. The House did not take in day boys, so that the House +was always playing against a selection from double its number. A Two +Cock would be far fairer. Nevertheless the House was furious.</p> + +<p>"Confounded old ass," said Mansell. "I believe Claremont wrote it. Let +him wait till next year and he will see his beastly blue shirts rolled +in the mud."</p> + +<p>"But it is such infernal swank," said Gordon. "We smashed them in the +Thirds; to all intents and purposes we routed them in the Two Cock; the +only thing the outhouses won was the Three Cock; and they are so bucked +about that that they want to clinch a victory, get up and shout: 'Look +at us, what devils of fine fellows we are! You can't touch us. Better +take charity.' Unutterable conceit! Why, we won four times running about +seven years ago. I have a good mind to go to Claremont and give it him<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[Pg 217]</a></span> +straight. Betteridge, you absurd ass, why did you print this thing?"</p> + +<p>"Well, you see, there were a few rather risky things in the paper, and I +thought if I cut it out he might hack about the rest of the rag. And, +besides, it will be an awful score when we win next year, as we are +absolutely certain to. Can't you imagine the account: 'Last year some +rather foolhardy persons doubted the ability of the School House to deal +with a combined side of the best three outhouses, and they were rash +enough to express their doubts in print. But this year, under the able +captaincy of G.F. Hunter, with the forwards admirably led by G.R. +Caruthers, the House gained a thoroughly deserved victory by fifteen +points to three.' We shall crow then, my lads, sha'n't we?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, it will be all right then," said Mansell. "My lord, I wish I was +going to be here to play in it. My governor is a fool to make me leave +and go to France."</p> + +<p>Mansell was leaving at the end of the term.</p> + +<p>"Well, all the same, it's a vile insult to the House," said Gordon. +"Whether he meant it or not, it's an insult."</p> + +<p>But his annoyance passed quickly. He was far too certain of the future +to worry much about what anyone said. He was sure the House would win in +the end. It was only a question of time. And when the prize-giving came, +his anger gave way to pride. His place in form gave him little +satisfaction, for he was easily bottom of the Sixth; but after the books +had been given there came the turn of the House cups. Amid enormous +cheers Lovelace went up for the Thirds cup; amid still louder cheers he +and the outhouse captain stepped up together to receive the Two Cock +cup. Then at tea Hazelton walked into hall carrying the two trophies to +place on the mantelpiece, and the House burst forth in a roar of +cheering. It was all sheer joy; and beyond the present glory shone the +dawn of great triumphs to come. The House was just entering on its +career of success. The day of Buller's was at an end. There only +remained to them the remnants of their earlier glory. Where they had +stood the House was about to stand. And in that hour of triumph Gordon +himself would be the protagonist.</p> + +<p>The short Easter holidays passed happily. Over the fresh grass of +Hampstead Heath Gordon wandered alone on those<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[Pg 218]</a></span> April mornings, when the +trees were breaking into a green splendour, when the long waters of the +Welsh Harp lay out in the morning sun like a sheet of gold. Looking +across from the firs he saw the spire of Harrow church cutting the red +sky, and the long stretch of country in between rolling out into a +panorama of loveliness. On the road to Parliament Hill he passed the +spot where Shelley found a starving woman dying in the snow, and took +her to Leigh Hunt's house to give her warmth. Near John Masefield's +house was the garden where Keats had written his immortal <i>Ode to a +Nightingale</i>. Hampstead was prodigal of associations, and they stirred +the boy's imagination like a trumpet call.</p> + +<p>Then followed the long summer term, with its drowsy afternoons, its +white flannels, its long evening shadows creeping across the courts, its +ices, its innumerable lemonades; everything conspired to make Gordon +supremely happy. Scholastically he had at last achieved his great wish +of specialising in history; a fine-sounding programme which actually +implied that he would not need to do another stroke of work during his +Fernhurst career. Specialising in history was an elastic activity, and +might mean a few hours a week in which to read up political economy. It +might mean what Prothero made it mean—seven hours in school a week, and +the remainder pretending to read history in his study.</p> + +<p>The grey and lifeless Finnemore superintended the history, and, like +everything else he superintended, it was scandalously neglected. +Outhouse people occasionally did a little work; School House men never. +Gordon began by taking quite modest privileges. He knew he had heaps of +time to enlarge his advantages. He started by doing one prose and one +"con" a week, instead of two proses and two "cons" like the rest of the +form. He also gave up one Latin construe book and one Greek book. That +meant about two hours a day to idle in his study. But he found it quite +easy to turn that two into three, and he was well aware that by +Christmas his daily hours of indolence would have reached five. Prothero +at the present moment was only going into school for divinity and +French, and as often as not he told his French master that he was so +much occupied with history that he could not come to French at<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[Pg 219]</a></span> all. +Nominally he went into school seven hours a week, actually he very +rarely went in more than three.</p> + +<p>The method of teaching history at Fernhurst had been the same from time +immemorial. Gordon was told to buy <i>Modern Europe</i>, by Lodge, price +seven shillings and sixpence. He did not, however, put his father to +this expense. History specialists in the School House had for years used +the same book. It had once belonged to a fabulous Van Hepworth, who had +gained a History exhibition at Selwyn somewhere in the nineties.</p> + +<p>No one knew anything of this Van Hepworth. His name was on the school +boards, but he had never been seen or heard of since he had left +Fernhurst for the romantic atmosphere of Cambridge. But he had left +behind him a name that will be remembered in the School House as long as +history is taught by Finnemore. For on his last day, in a fit of +gratitude, he had left to future historians the legacy of his history +notebook. It contained all that Finnemore knew!</p> + +<p>Every week Finnemore set three questions to his specialists—to be done +with books. He had a stock of these questions, and Van Hepworth had +written exhaustive essays on every one of them. All that was needed was +to consult the oracle, and then copy out what he had written. Sometimes, +by way of a change, Finnemore would think of a new subject. But Gordon +would say:</p> + +<p>"Oh, sir, I have been reading about Mary de Medici, and am very much +interested in her. I wondered if I could do a question on her."</p> + +<p>"Of course. I always like you to do what you are interested in. Let me +see. I have a nice little question on her: 'Mary de Medici: was she an +unmixed evil?' An interesting subject which raises quite a lot of +points. And I have one more question for you. 'Compare Richelieu and +Mazarin,' an interesting little psychological study. I think you will +enjoy them."</p> + +<p>Then Gordon would have recourse to the unfailing authority, Van +Hepworth. Sometimes he felt too slack to copy out the questions at all. +On such occasions he would simply read Van Hepworth's essay straight out +of the old, battered book.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[Pg 220]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I hope you won't mind my reading this to you, but I was in rather a +hurry and I doubt if you could quite read my handwriting."</p> + +<p>Finnemore would listen with the greatest interest.</p> + +<p>"Very nice indeed, Caruthers, very sound attitude to adopt. An essay +well worth preserving. You will copy it out neatly, won't you?"</p> + +<p>"Oh yes, sir."</p> + +<p>Gordon wanted to institute a Van Hepworth memorial, and put up a plate +to him somewhere. But there were many obstacles to this. The Chief might +want to know more about him, and the legend had to be kept secret. In +the end he contented himself with having the book bound in full morocco, +so that it might be preserved for future generations, for already the +cardboard cover had become sadly torn. Where Van Hepworth is now, who +knows? This only is certain, that although he has most likely by now +lost all clear recollection of Fernhurst and the grey School House +studies, yet his name is remembered there to-day, with far greater +veneration and respect than was ever paid to him during the days of his +school career.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Let us now praise famous men,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Men of little showing,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For their work continueth,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Deep and long continueth,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wide and far continueth, far beyond their knowing."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>And so Gordon's scholastic career came to an end. He had reached the +"far border town." There would be no need to fret himself about form +orders any more. "Strong men might go by and pass o'er him"; he had +retired from the fray. While others crammed their brains with obscure +interpretations of Æschylus, he lay back reading English poetry and +English prose, striving to get a clear hold of the forces that went to +produce each movement, and incidentally doing himself far more good than +he would have done by binding himself down to the classical regime, +which trained boys to imitate, and not to strike out on their own. +Gordon had already acquired enough of the taste and sense of form which +the classics alone can provide, and which are essential to a real +culture. But he was lucky in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[Pg 221]</a></span> stopping soon enough to prevent himself +being forced into a groove, from which he could only judge new movements +by the Ciceronian standards, without grasping the fact that technique +and form are merely outward coverings of genius, and not genius in +themselves.</p> + +<p>To the other delights of this delightful term was added the sudden and +unexpected success of Gordon's cricket. For the first fortnight Gordon +found himself playing on House and Colts games. But as he gathered runs +there with ease, he was soon transplanted to the First Eleven nets, +which he thenceforward only left for a brief spell, after an attack of +chicken-pox. For a member of the School Eleven life has nothing better +to offer than a summer term. There were usually two matches a week. The +team would get off work at ten o'clock, and just as the school was +pouring out in break they would stroll leisurely down to the cricket +field. Everything, in fact, was carried out leisurely. A wonderful +atmosphere of repose hangs over a cricket field in the morning, when the +grass is still sparkling with dew, and there is silence and vast +emptiness where usually is the sound of shouting and hurrying feet. +There was the long luncheon interval, when the members of the Eleven +would wander round the field arm in arm, or lounge on the seats lazy and +contented. Gordon loved to sit in the pavilion balcony watching the +white forms change across between the overs, the red ball bounce along +the grass, the wicket-keeper whip off the bails, the umpire's finger go +up. The whole tableau was so unreal, so idealistic. Then the school +would come down after lunch with rugs and cushions, and would clamour +outside the tuck-shop for ices and ginger beer. Gordon could hardly +connect his present existence with the past two years of doubts, +uncertainties, wild excitements, hurry, bustle—never a second's peace.</p> + +<p>One of his most perfect days was the Radley match. After a long journey, +at the very end of the day they passed through Oxford, and Gordon caught +one fleeting glimpse of those wonderful "dreaming spires," rising golden +in the dying sun. As the team walked up from Abingdon to the college, +Tester, who had at last got into the side, came up and took Gordon's +arm.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[Pg 222]</a></span></p> + +<p>"You know, when I saw Oxford lying out there so peaceful and calm, I +thought I had at last reached the end of searching. This was my first +view of Oxford; by passing the certificate I didn't need to go up for +smalls. Thank God, I am going up there next term. I think I shall forget +all my old misgivings in so completely peaceful an atmosphere. I can't +shake off the Public School ideas yet; I am all adrift; still, I think +it will be all right there."</p> + +<p>Gordon wondered indeed how anyone could fail to find all their dreams +realised in so secluded, so monastic a Utopia.</p> + +<p>The next two days were supremely happy. Gordon, Lovelace and Foster were +put into the same house; and they spent half the night ragging in their +old light-hearted fashion. The match resembled most of the other +performances of that year's Eleven. The whole side was out for eighty. +Gordon hit two fours and was then leg before; Lovelace, with laborious +efforts and much use of his pads, made twenty-three and five leg byes. +But it was a sorry performance, and Radley put up over two hundred. +Fernhurst went in again; and that day Gordon and Lovelace were sent in +first.</p> + +<p>It was an amazing performance. Gordon's cricket was, in honest fact, one +of the biggest frauds that had ever been inflicted on an opposing side. +He had three shots—a cut, a slash shot past cover, and a drive that +landed the ball anywhere from mid-wicket to over short-slip. People used +to say that he tried each of these shots in rotation. That perhaps was +hardly fair; but he invariably cut straight balls and pulled good length +balls on the off stump to the on boundary. This evening, at any rate, he +was in luck. With terrific violence he smote the Radley bowling all +round the field. Some shots went along the ground, more fell just out of +reach of a fielder. It was invigorating but hardly classic cricket. +Still, whatever it was, it produced seventy-two runs, while Lovelace had +scored three. After he left Lovelace became still more cautious. A man +from Christy's was in at the other end, who had been instructed to keep +up his end for an hour. As a matter of fact, they scored exactly two +runs between them in about half-an-hour. That two was from a drive from +Lovelace past cover.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[Pg 223]</a></span></p> + +<p>At such daring Lovelace became much elated.</p> + +<p>"Come on, I say, come on. Lots of runs here. Come on."</p> + +<p>The Radley men were very amused. Lovelace took nothing seriously. It was +as well that "the Bull" was absent. Once, just as the bowler was rushing +up to bowl, Lovelace flung out his hand and said: "Stop! Move the screen +please; your hand is just behind a tree!"</p> + +<p>With great difficulty the screens were moved.</p> + +<p>Once he patted the ball a little way down the pitch, and shouted to the +batsman at the other end, with hand extended: "Stay!"</p> + +<p>There was some subdued laughter.</p> + +<p>Lovelace turned round to the wicket-keeper and said: "Strange as it may +seem, I am the worst member of this rotten side, and I am playing for my +place. This is the way to keep your place at Fernhurst."</p> + +<p>The final achievement was a successful appeal against the light.</p> + +<p>The next day it rained in torrents.</p> + +<p>"Jolly rotten luck," said Lovelace, "and I was certain for a bat for +making my fifty, too."</p> + +<p>"Do you think so?" said Tester. "You know, they don't play to a finish +in England. You are thinking of Australian rules."</p> + +<p>Commemoration came and went, with its tea-parties, parasols, calf-bound +books, sermons and cricket match. The term drew to its close.</p> + +<p>"This is the best term I have ever had," said Gordon. "By Jove, we have +had some good days."</p> + +<p>Yet, of all things, that which remained clearest in his memory was one +day early in the term, when he and Lovelace were recovering from +chicken-pox. The school had gone for a field day to Salisbury, and they +were left behind with Archie Fletcher, who had been ragging Jenks, and +had been kept back for punishment, and a quantity of small fry. No work +was done. In the morning they all had to go into the big schoolroom and +hear Claremont read <i>Lycidas</i> and parts of <i>Comus</i>.</p> + +<p>Claremont read remarkably well, and Gordon, in an atmosphere of genial +tolerance and good humour, was able<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[Pg 224]</a></span> to get a clearer insight into the +real soul of the pedant of the Lower Fifth. For, shorn of his trappings, +Claremont was "a dear old fellow." Among books he had found the lasting +friendship and consolation that among his colleagues he had sought in +vain. And as he read <i>Comus</i>, in many ways the most truly poetical poem +in the English language, Gordon realised how sensitively Claremont's +heart was wrought upon by every breath of beauty.</p> + +<p>The afternoon they had to themselves. A net was put up on the field, and +for an hour or so they beat about, regardless of science and footwork. A +relaxation was a good thing now and again. Then they went back to the +studies, and in the absence of its owner laid hold of the games study. +They had the run of it now, and, with an enormous basket of strawberries +before them, played tunes on the gramophone and roared the chorus. As +the evening fell, and the lights began to wake, Gordon and Archie stole +down to the fried fish shop, strictly out of bounds, and returned with +an unsavoury, but none the less palatable, parcel of fried fish and +chips.</p> + +<p>It was a glorious day; they enjoyed all Fernhurst's privileges with its +restrictions removed, and when the notes of <i>Land of Hope and Glory</i> +proclaimed that the corps was marching up Cheap Street, they considered +the return to realities to be almost an intrusion on their isolated +peace.</p> + +<p>In the last week of the term the Colts played Downside, and Gordon was +still young enough to play for them. "The Bull" went with them, and +could not have been kinder. He walked round the ground with Gordon in +the interval, as if there had been never any cause of quarrel between +them at all. They talked of books as well as cricket; and though "the +Bull's" gods were not Gordon's, there was real sympathy between them for +an hour. On the way back in the train, Gordon wondered whether, after +all, he had not been right at the beginning, when he promised to curb +his personality, and merge it into "the Bull's." What good was there in +going his own way, in fighting for what he thought right? Buller always +had had his own way, and things had gone on all right. Why should he try +and alter things? Having realised "the Bull's" faults, should he not +make allowance for them, seeing that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[Pg 225]</a></span> his virtues so outnumbered his +failings? He was certainly intolerant of any other opinions but his own; +but then so was Ferrers, whom Gordon worshipped on the other side of +idolatry. The pity was that Ferrers was intolerant of the things he +hated, while Buller was intolerant of the things he admired. It was all +very difficult. For the moment he did not feel ready to come to any +decision. He was too happy to trouble himself. "Sufficient for the day +were the day's evil things." Let the future reveal itself. He would see +how things turned out.</p> + +<p>The concert came, with its <i>Valete</i> of many memories. The school songs +were howled out; hands crossed and swung in <i>Auld Lang Syne</i>; the +<i>Carmen</i> nearly brought the roof down. Lying back in bed, Gordon saw +little to regret in the school year that was just ending. Considering he +had been second in the batting averages, he thought they might have +given him his "Firsts"; but it did not matter very much. There was heaps +of time. Three years of fulfilment. Half his school life was over. The +threads of his youth had been unravelled at last; and in the coming year +they would be woven upon the wonderful loom of youth, with its bright +colours, its sunshine and its laughter. As the spring morn flings aside +its winter raiment, so he had put off the garb of his wandering +adolescence. He was prepared for whatever might come. But he was certain +that it was only happiness that was waiting for him. Three years of +success in which would be mingled the real poetry of existence. He would +not write his poetry on paper; he would write it, as Herod had written +it, in every action of his life. His innings was just about to begin.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[Pg 226]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="BOOK_IV_THE_WEAVING" id="BOOK_IV_THE_WEAVING"></a>BOOK IV: THE WEAVING</h2> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Alba Ligustra cadunt; vaccinia nigra leguntur."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Vergil.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Life like an army I could hear advance<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Halting at fewer, fewer intervals."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Harold Monro.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_I_THE_TWILIGHT_OF_THE_GODS" id="CHAPTER_I_THE_TWILIGHT_OF_THE_GODS"></a>CHAPTER I: THE TWILIGHT OF THE GODS</h2> + + +<p>It is good to dream; but "Man proposes: God in His time disposes," and +Gordon's dream was scattered at its dawn. Hardly a week later a great +nation forgot its greatness, and Europe trembled on the brink of war. +During those days of awful suspense, when it was uncertain whether +England would enter into the contest or not, Gordon could hardly keep +still with nervous excitement. When on the Sunday before Bank Holiday +J.L. Garvin poured out his warning to the Liberal Government, it seemed +for a moment as if they were going to back out.</p> + +<p>On the Tuesday Gordon went to the Oval; Lovelace major was playing +against Surrey. In the Strand he ran into Ferrers.</p> + +<p>"Come on, sir I am just off to the Oval to see Lovelace's brother bat. +Great fellow! Captain of the House my first term."</p> + +<p>"Right you are. Come on. There's a bus!"</p> + +<p>For hours, or what seemed like hours, two painfully correct +professionals pottered about, scoring by ones and twos. Gordon longed +for them to get out. A catch was missed in the slips.</p> + +<p>"Surrey are the worst slip-fielding side in England," announced Gordon +fiercely. The Oval crowd, always so ferociously partisan, moved round +him uneasily.</p> + +<p>At last a roar went up, as Hitch knocked the leg stump flying out of the +ground. Then Lovelace came in. He looked just as he had looked on the +green Fernhurst sward, only perhaps a little broader. He was wearing the +magenta<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[Pg 227]</a></span> and black of the School House scarf. He was an amateur of the +R.E. Foster type—wrist shots past cover, and an honest off-drive.</p> + +<p>A change came over the play at once. In his first over he hit two fours. +There was a stir round the ground. His personality was as strong as +ever.</p> + +<p>A boy ran on the field with a telegram for him.</p> + +<p>"I bet that means he has got to join his regiment," said Gordon, "and it +also means we are going to fight."</p> + +<p>Lovelace shoved the telegram into his pocket, and went on batting just +as if nothing had happened, just as if he did not realise that this was +his last innings for a very long time. He hit all round the wicket.</p> + +<p>At last a brilliant piece of stumping sent him back to the pavilion amid +a roar of cheering.</p> + +<p>"My word, Mr Ferrers, there goes the finest man Fernhurst has turned out +since I have been there. And, my word, it will be a long time before we +turn out another like him. There will be nothing to see now he has +gone."</p> + +<p>They wandered out into the Kennington Road, excited, feverish. They had +lunch at Gatti's, went into <i>Potash and Perlmutter</i>, and came out after +the first act.</p> + +<p>"This is no time for German Jews," said Ferrers, "let's try the +Hippodrome."</p> + +<p>It was an expensive day. They rushed from one thing to another. The +strain was intolerable. After supper they went to the West End Cinema, +and there, just before closing-time, a film, in which everyone was +falling into a dirty duck-pond for no ostensible reason, was suddenly +stopped, and there appeared across the screen the flaming notice:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ENGLAND HAS DECLARED WAR ON GERMANY<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">GOD SAVE THE KING!<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>There was dead silence for a moment. Then cheer upon cheer convulsed the +house. The band struck up the National Anthem. The sequel to the tragedy +of the duck-pond was never known.</p> + +<p>"Glorious! Glorious!" said Ferrers, as they staggered out into the cool +night air. "A war is what we want.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[Pg 228]</a></span> It will wake us up from sleeping; +stir us into life; inflame our literature. There's a real chance now of +sweeping away the old outworn traditions. In a great fire they will all +be burnt. Then we can build afresh. I wish I could go and fight. Damn my +heart! To think of all the running it stood at Oxford; and then suddenly +to give way. My doctor always tells me to be careful. If I could go, by +God, I would have my shot at the bloody Germans; but still I'll do +something at Fernhurst. Stoics, you know; Army class English. How old +are you? Sixteen! We shall have you for two years yet. This war is going +to save England and everything! Glorious!"</p> + +<p>The flaring lights of Leicester Square, the tawdry brilliance of +Piccadilly seemed to burst into one volcano of red splendour; a thousand +cannons spitting flame; a thousand eyes bright with love of England. The +swaying Tube swept Gordon home in a state of subconscious delirium to +the starlit calm of Hampstead.</p> + +<p>Throughout the long summer holidays this feeling of rejoicing sustained +Gordon's heart. He saw an age rising out of these purging fires that +would rival the Elizabethan. He saw a second Marlowe and a second +Webster. His soul was aflame with hope. He had no doubt as to the +result. Even the long retreat from Mons, with its bitter list of +casualties, failed to terrorise him. Half the holidays he spent in +Wychtown, a little Somersetshire village, and his enthusiasm at one time +took the form of buying bundles of newspapers, which he distributed at +the cottages, so as to keep everyone in touch with the state of affairs. +At one time he thought of going round discussing the war with some of +the villagers; but he soon abandoned this project. He began with an aged +man who had fought at Majuba.</p> + +<p>"Well, Mr Cavendish, and what do you think of the war this morning."</p> + +<p>"Lor' bless you, things beant what they were in my young days. At +Majuba, now, we did things a bit different-like. But these 'ere Germans, +now, they be getting on right well. Be they for us?"</p> + +<p>After this Gordon decided that the natural simplicity of the yokel was +proof against anything he might have to say. He pitied electioneering +agents.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[Pg 229]</a></span></p> + +<p>A week before the beginning of term he received two letters. The first +was from Lovelace, who had got a nomination to Sandhurst, and would not +return to school next term. The other was from Hunter, saying that he +had won a commission in the Dorsets.</p> + +<p>"<i>Well, Caruthers, old fellow</i>," he added, "<i>this means that you will be +captain of the House. I had greatly looked forward to being captain +myself, and had thought out a good many new ideas. But of course all +that has got to go now, and I don't intend to try and pass off my +theories on you; you'll probably have many more than I had, and a good +deal better ones. All I can say is that I wish the very best of luck to +you and to the House. I have no doubt you'll do jolly well. Good luck.</i>"</p> + +<p>Gordon sat silent for a long while. Sorrow at losing Lovelace strove +with the joy of reaching his heart's desire so soon. Finally all other +emotions were lost in the overflowing sense of relief that his days of +waiting for achievement were over.</p> + +<p>In a mood of supreme self-confidence he returned to Fernhurst.</p> + +<p>At Waterloo everyone was talking at the top of his voice.</p> + +<p>"Is it true Akerman has left?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; got a commission in the Middlesex."</p> + +<p>"Good Lord! that'll mean Gregory captain."</p> + +<p>"Hunter has left, too, I hear."</p> + +<p>"Has he?"</p> + +<p>"Caruthers will be captain of the House, then."</p> + +<p>Broken sentences were wafted like strange music to Gordon's ears. He +felt that the eyes of those who once had been his equals looked at him +with a sort of Oriental admiration, in which there lurked traces of +fear.</p> + +<p>He found himself addressed with more respect. One or two people came up +to congratulate him. The green flag waved. The train moved majestically +westward, and his reign had begun. He did not feel the slightest tremor +of nervousness. He remembered Hunter saying at the end of last term that +it was ticklish work being captain of the House. Was it? To Gordon it +seemed no more than the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[Pg 230]</a></span> inevitable entrance into a kingdom which was +his by right of conquest.</p> + +<p>The Eversham road swept in its broad curve up to the Abbey, black with +moving figures. Gordon slowly walked up to the House. It was the +privilege of School House prefects to enter by a small gate near the +masters' common room. Haughtily he rang the bell. A wizened old lady +opened the door, bowing with a "Hope you 'ad a good 'oliday, sir." It +was the first sensation of power.</p> + +<p>A crowd had collected round the notice-board in the changing-room. +Gordon murmured "Thank you," and two or three Eton collars moved aside +to give him room. What a change! All the giants of the former generation +had gone. Betteridge had, at the express request of the Chief, come back +for one term. But he alone remained. Gordon was fifth in the House; and, +good Lord, that amazing ass Rudd was a prefect, and second in the House! +He and Gordon had a double dormitory on the lower landing. The number of +boys in the House had sunk to sixty-two, rather a desolating thought for +House matches.</p> + +<p>The Chief was not in his study. Gordon dropped a health certificate on +his table, and gave instructions to one Morgan, a round-faced, ruddy +youth, to shove his bag into his dormitory. Then he wandered over to the +games study. And so this study was going to be his! He had often sat +there with Carter; but he had always felt himself an excrescence. Now it +was his own. He pictured the evenings after a hard game of football, +sitting in front of the fire; the long mornings when he was supposed to +be preparing history for Finnemore, spent in this atmosphere of +luxurious calm. He planned his furnishing of the room. In the broad +window he would hang two bookshelves for his smaller books. On each side +of the fireplace there was also room for bookshelves. Then, standing +against the wooden partition that jutted out into the room would be his +large oak bookcase for the heavy volumes. He would repaper the room, and +a new carpet was a necessity. He went over to the porter's lodge to give +instructions.</p> + +<p>He had already decided to ask Foster to share the study with him. Foster +would be captain of cricket next summer. They would get on well +together. Foster never quarrelled<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[Pg 231]</a></span> with anyone; and it would be a +suitable combination. He met Foster by the eight-ten train from Exeter, +and informed him of the fact.</p> + +<p>When prayers came, and Gordon stood under the mantelpiece behind the +arm-chair where the captain of the House sat, and looked down at the row +of new boys at the day-room table, it seemed incredible to him that he +had ever been like that. And yet it was only three years ago since he +had sat there, dazed and frightened.</p> + +<p>Prayers were ended. Gordon sat back, his hands resting on the arms of +his big oak chair. The Chief came round, shaking hands.</p> + +<p>"Caruthers, Foster and Davenport, you might come and speak to me for a +moment after you have finished your supper."</p> + +<p>That was not long. No one had ever been known to touch any of the +first-night soup; Gordon had often wondered what happened to it. There +was much of it, and all wasted.</p> + +<p>The Chief greeted them with his invariable fluttering smile.</p> + +<p>"I suppose you know what I want you for? Kitchener called up his +reserves, so I have had to call up mine. None of you would, I think, in +the ordinary course of events have become prefects this term. But as it +is, I am sure you will all do well; and remember that being a prefect +does not merely consist in the privilege of being late for breakfast. +Some of you, who may very likely have views of your own on certain +subjects, must try and make them conform with mine. We must all try to +work together, and I am always ready to give any of you advice if I am +able to, and of course——"</p> + +<p>At this moment there came the discordant sounds that proclaimed the +arrival of the last train from town. Gordon could imagine some wretched +new boy huddled underneath the stairs, ignorant and timid.</p> + +<p>Rudd burst in with a health certificate and outside came the babble of +voices. "I must go and see Chief ... Health certificate ... Confirmation +classes ... Going to specialise in stinks."</p> + +<p>It was clear that the Chief was to have a hard time for<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[Pg 232]</a></span> the next twenty +minutes interviewing all these candidates for a satisfactory division of +labour.</p> + +<p>"Well, I think that is all just now, thank you."</p> + +<p>He gave them a nod of dismissal. They filed out into the passage, black +with its crowd of clamouring applicants.</p> + +<p>It was not until the next day, however, that Gordon fully realised the +change that had come over Fernhurst. Nearly all the bloods had left. +Gregory was still there, but he had sent his papers in, and expected to +be gazetted in a week or so, and of the Fifteen of the year before he +was the only remaining colour. Two members of the Second Fifteen +remained: one because he was only seventeen, the other, Akerman's +younger brother, because he was going to be a medical student and was +not allowed to take a commission by the War Office.</p> + +<p>The staff also had undergone several changes. Ferrers was practically +the only master under thirty. The rest had all taken commissions, and +their places were filled by grey-beards and bald-heads, long since past +their prime. It was a case of extreme youth face to face with extreme +age.</p> + +<p>"There will be some fun this term," prophesied Archie Fletcher, for whom +the immediate future stretched out into a long series of colossal +"rags."</p> + +<p>Rogers was imperially himself. The Corps was, of course, to be allowed +considerably more time this term. There were two parades a week, one a +company drill on Friday, the other a field day on Wednesday. Besides +this, between twelve-thirty and lunch there would be section and platoon +drill every day. Rogers imagined that O.T.C. work would shortly become +more important and more popular than football; he saw himself taking the +position once held by Buller. On the strength of this alluring prospect +he bought a new uniform.</p> + +<p>For the first few days life was entertainingly disorganised. The +time-table worked out all wrong. Gregory got gazetted; and Akerman, on +becoming captain, forgot the numbers of the football grounds, thus +causing endless and hilarious confusion. No one quite knew what was +happening, but everyone was happily excited, and vaguely garrulous about +"how the war has changed things."</p> + +<p>Gordon found that his new position brought with it certain<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[Pg 233]</a></span> other +honours. In the Corps, for instance, where for three years he had so +tempered slackness with insolence as to make him the worst private in +the company, he found himself a lance-corporal, in charge of a section. +He was elected to the Dolts Literary Society, under the placid autocracy +of Claremont, who called them his "stolidi." But nothing showed more +clearly the change wrought by the war than the fact that Gordon was +nominated to the Games Committee, before which august body hardly six +months ago he had cut such an inglorious figure. It was a strange irony.</p> + +<p>In the School House every prefect was allowed four fags, so as Foster +and Gordon were both prefects, the games study had a goodly crowd of +menials. For the most part they were simple, insignificant, +Eton-collared mortals, who flitted round the room after breakfast with +dusters, and at various other times of the day came in to see after the +fire. Gordon took little notice of them. Foster had made out a list of +the days on which each fag was on duty; one, Hare, was put in charge, +and when anything went wrong, Hare was considered responsible and +beaten. After two such castigations the excellence of the fagging was +maintained at an unusually high standard.</p> + +<p>The first fortnight of the term was feverish. Corps work was revivified +under the stimulus of war; the field days by Babylon Hill provided +genuine excitement, in spite of the prolixity of Rogers's subsequent +summary of the day's work. There were going to be very few football +matches; but "uppers" were played with the old keenness, and there was +fierce competition for the last places in the scrum. Ferrers wrote a +long article to <i>The Country</i> on "The Public Schools and the War," which +bubbled over with enthusiasm.</p> + +<p>Gordon found authority a pleasant thing. There were, of course, bound to +be little worries, but they were transient. The new boys caused him a +certain amount of trouble. They never would take the trouble to find out +if they were posted for House games. The result was that as often as not +the House found itself playing with only six forwards. Gordon made a +speech to the House on the subject. The<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[Pg 234]</a></span> very next day Golding, a most +wretched-looking specimen, failed to turn up on a House game.</p> + +<p>Gordon gave him a lecture on the insignificance of the new boy and the +importance of games.</p> + +<p>"This sort of thing can't go on," he said, using the formula that every +prefect has used since the day prefects were first made. "If it did, we +might find everyone cutting House games and going off to pick-ups! What +would happen then?"</p> + +<p>Golding was far too frightened to have any views on the subject.</p> + +<p>"Well, I shall have to beat you."</p> + +<p>Gordon led the way to the empty space by the cloisters where roll was +called.</p> + +<p>"Bend over there!"</p> + +<p>Golding showed a natural reluctance to do anything of the sort.</p> + +<p>"No, right down; and lift up your coat."</p> + +<p>Gordon gave him a fairly hard stroke. Golding squealed "Oh!" and rose, +holding his trousers, and looking round fretfully. Gordon's heart +melted. After all, this was a new kid, and a pretty poor specimen at +that.</p> + +<p>The next shot was very gentle.</p> + +<p>The sequel reached Gordon three days later. Golding had gone back down +to the day-room. Rudd was taking hall, which was, of course, an excuse +for everyone to talk.</p> + +<p>"How many?" asked several voices. "Did he hurt?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, only one and a half," announced Golding, puffed out with pride. +"First hardly hurt me at all, and the second one was quite a misfire."</p> + +<p>This was rather a surprise to those who remembered Gordon's driving +power. Golding was thought rather a "lad" after all.</p> + +<p>Gordon, however, soon dispelled this illusion. A week later he went down +to the House game in which Golding was playing and cursed him roundly +all the afternoon with perfect justice. After tea he gave him six for +slacking: and all delusions about Golding's bravery were immediately +dispelled.</p> + +<p>"Damned little tick," said Gordon. "He made such a fuss that I let him +off lightly, and then he goes down to the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[Pg 235]</a></span> day-room and makes out I am a +wreck. Collins, I charge thee, put away compassion! It does not pay with +these degenerates."</p> + +<p>There is nothing more interesting to the artist than watching a thing +grow under one's hand. And Gordon, who had the ambition of the artist in +embryo, was thoroughly engrossed in the training of his House sides. A-K +Junior was a promising side; it beat Claremont's by twenty points, and +Rogers's by over fifty.</p> + +<p>Morgan captained the side, and was easily the best man in it, but among +the lesser lights there was a great display of energy, much of it +misplaced. The worst offender was Bray. To watch him play was to witness +a gladiatorial display of frightfulness. His fists flew about like a +flail, his legs were everywhere. On the whole he did more damage to his +own side than to his opponents. And the amount of energy he wasted every +game in hacking the bodies of any who got in his way must have been +exhausting. Gordon had to speak to him almost severely once or twice.</p> + +<p>In the game against Rogers's, Bray nearly got sent off the field. There +had been a tight scrum which had more or less collapsed. The whistle +blew. Jenks had been persuaded to referee.</p> + +<p>"Now then, form up properly there."</p> + +<p>When the two scrums assorted themselves, Bray was discovered about five +yards from the ball, sitting on the head of a wretched, fat, unwashed +product of Rogers's, punching him violently and ejaculating after each +punch:</p> + +<p>"Damn you! Damn you! Damn you!"</p> + +<p>Jenks looked very fierce.</p> + +<p>"Now then, you stupid fellows. If you go on like that, I shall have to +report you to the Headmaster, and you know what that will mean."</p> + +<p>Bray looked a little frightened, and for the future devoted his energies +to the football and not the footballers, to the distinct advantage of +the side.</p> + +<p>But Gordon began to find that the more his interest increased in House +games, the less interest he took in uppers and Fifteen puntabouts. He +was always wanting to go and see how his House was getting on. As soon +as the first keenness wore off he found the interminable "uppers,"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[Pg 236]</a></span> +totally unrelieved by the excitement of matches, amazingly dull. Indeed, +the whole school side was beginning to grow weary. Every Monday and +Thursday there was a puntabout. Every Tuesday and Saturday there was the +same game—First Fifteen <i>v.</i> Second Fifteen—with one or two masters, +such as Christy, who were no longer as young as they had been. The +result was invariably the same; the First Fifteen won by forty points, +and were cursed by "the Bull" for not winning by sixty. No one could +possibly enjoy such monotony. Every week the business became more +unpopular.</p> + +<p>"The Bull" stamped up and down with a whistle in his hand.</p> + +<p>"I never saw such slackness. What good do you imagine you men will be in +the trenches, if you can't last out a short game of rugger like this? I +don't know what the school is coming to!"</p> + +<p>The side, which had never been good, got worse daily. As a captain, the +younger Akerman was a nonentity. Buller was captain of the side in +everything but name.</p> + +<p>"You know, Foster," said Gordon one Saturday evening after a more than +usually dreary performance, "these uppers are getting about the ruddy +limit."</p> + +<p>"Have you taken all this time to find that out?" growled Foster. "I used +to like footer once. Last year we had a good time on those Colts games. +Of course the old buffalo lost his hair a good deal, but the games were +level at any rate. I can see no sort of fun in winning every time by +forty points. Why can't we have pick-up games, so as to get level +sides."</p> + +<p>"I suppose 'the Bull' wants to get the side working together."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps he does; but why, if there are going to be no matches till +half-way through November? The Downside match is four weeks off, and +till then we have to continue this silly farce twice a week. And, after +all, it does not teach us defence in the least. Our three-quarter men +have not to do any collaring. If we run up against a side that is any +use at attack, we shall be hopelessly dished."</p> + +<p>"I think we shall be dished anyhow. And I am damned if I care much. +Buller has knocked all the keenness out<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[Pg 237]</a></span> of me, and the rest of the side +say the same thing. Do you know, I actually look forward to Corps parade +day."</p> + +<p>"The same with me. I am fed to death with footer."</p> + +<p>"Still we are having a jolly good time off the field."</p> + +<p>"Are we?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes; we are prefects; we haven't got to do any work, and it's +interesting coaching the kids."</p> + +<p>Foster looked dubiously at him. He had no side to coach. He also had to +do some work for his Sandhurst exam. next term. But Gordon's crown was +as yet too fresh to feel the tarnishing damp of disappointment.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>October went by with its red-gold leaves and amber sunlight. November +swept in bringing a procession of long evenings and flickering lights. +The first boom of the war fever died down. The Fifteen played +listlessly, Upper followed Upper. Puntabout followed puntabout. No one +cared who was in the side. Foster was left out—and thanked heaven!</p> + +<p>"I am about sick of being cursed off my feet, and told I shall be no +good in the trenches because I miss my passes. 'The Bull' has gone +war-mad."</p> + +<p>Gordon <i>had</i> to keep in the side; it would not do for the House captain +to get a reputation for slackness. His play lacked its old fire and +dash, but was still good enough to earn him his place. He knew he was +going off; that he was not nearly so good as he had been the year +before; the thought worried him. But still A-K Junior was doing very +well.</p> + +<p>One Saturday evening there came the sound of thumping feet down the +passage, someone banged himself against the door, and a well-known voice +was shouting:</p> + +<p>"Hullo, Caruthers, my lad!"</p> + +<p>Gordon swung round to find Mansell, with out-stretched hand, looking +magnificent in the top-boots and spurs of the R.F.A.</p> + +<p>"Come in. Sit down. By Jove! this is like old times. I must call up +Archie! Archie!... Here's someone to see you."</p> + +<p>Mansell was just the same as he had been a year ago, a little older, a +little stronger, a little more the man<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[Pg 238]</a></span> of the world. He was full of +stories; how his men had nearly mutinied because they thought their +separation allowance insufficient; how he had chased deserters half +across England; how he had taken the pretty waitress at the café to the +music hall.</p> + +<p>"It's life, that's what it is! I never knew what life was till I went to +Bournemouth. Oh, my God, we do have a time! Damned hard work, of course, +but we do have a time in the evenings! My lord, I nearly put my foot in +it the other night. I saw the devil of a smart girl walking down the +street, and I could have sworn I knew her. I went up and said: 'Coming +for a stroll?' O Lord, you should have seen her turn round. I thought +she would fetch a policeman. And we have a jolly good footer side, too. +We fairly smashed the S.W.B. last week. Oh, it's grand. But, still, I +suppose you are not having a bad time here. It's good to see you lads +again."</p> + +<p>On the next day Mansell stood an enormous tea in the games study. +Everyone of any importance came. The gramophone played, songs were sung. +Never was there seen so much food before. Mansell seemed like a Greek +god who had for a moment descended to earth to reveal a glimpse of what +Olympus was like.</p> + +<p>Gordon went down and saw him off by the five-forty-five.</p> + +<p>"My word! I envy you, Mansell," he said.</p> + +<p>"I shouldn't. I often wish I was back again in the House. All those old +days with Claremont and Trundle, the footer; and all that. We had a +darned fine time. Make the most of it while you've got it."</p> + +<p>As Gordon walked back alone, he had the unpleasant feeling that the best +was over, that the days of ragging, of footer, of Claremont, of Trundle +had gone beyond recall. The friends of his first term, Hunter, Lovelace, +Mansell, they had all gone, scattered to the winds. He alone remained, +and with a sudden pain he wondered whether he had not outlived his day, +whether, like Tithonus, he was not taking more than he had been meant to +take. But then, as he walked through the small gateway, and majestically +wandered up the Chief's drive, he reflected that, even if his splendour +was a lonely one, without the laughter and comradeship he could have +wished for, yet it was none the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[Pg 239]</a></span> less a splendour. He must hold on. As +Mansell had said, he must make the best of it while he had it.</p> + +<p>A small boy came up nervously.</p> + +<p>"Please, Caruthers, may I have leave off games for a week? I have had a +bad foot."</p> + +<p>"Did Matron say so?"</p> + +<p>"Oh yes."</p> + +<p>"All right, then."</p> + +<p>He walked up the stairs to his study, smiling to himself. What had he +been fretting himself about? He had his power. He had the things he had +wanted.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"<i>Is it not brave to be a king?</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Is it not passing brave to be a king</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>And ride in triumph through Persepolis?</i>"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Marlowe had been right, Marlowe with the pagan soul that loved material +things, glitter and splendour, crowns and roses, red lips and gleaming +arms.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"<i>A god is not so glorious as a king ...</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>To ask and have, command and be obeyed.</i>"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>And there was no doubt he was a king. He must make the best of his +kingdom while he held it.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_II_SETTING_STARS" id="CHAPTER_II_SETTING_STARS"></a>CHAPTER II: SETTING STARS</h2> + + +<p>The same atmosphere of monotonous depression that overhung football soon +began to affect the military side of school life as well. At first there +had been the spur of novelty. The substitution of platoon drill for the +old company routine and the frequent field days led to keenness. But +even the most energetic get weary of doing exactly the same thing three +times a week. There are only three different formations in platoon +drill, which anyone can learn in half-an-hour; and the days were long +past when Gordon's extraordinary commands would form his platoon into an +impossible rabble that could only be extricated by<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[Pg 240]</a></span> the ungrammatical +but effective command that School House section commanders had used from +the first day of militarism: "As you did ought."</p> + +<p>Those days were over. No mistakes. For thirty-five minutes every Monday, +Wednesday and Friday the School House platoon would move round the +courts in lifeless and perfect formation. And by now the School had +begun to suspect that the field days were conducted mainly to satisfy +Rogers's inordinate conceit. His house had always the advantage. The +limit of endurance was reached one day early in November, when Rogers +took his house out to defend Babylon Hill against the rest of the corps.</p> + +<p>The attack was really rather brilliant. Babylon Hill overlooks the +country for miles. There was a splendid field of fire. It was a boiling +hot day. Rogers's men lay happily on the hill firing spasmodically at +khaki figures crawling up the long valley. Their position seemed +impregnable.</p> + +<p>Early in the proceedings, however, Ferrers, who was conducting the +attack, sent Betteridge with the School House platoon on an enormous +detour to bring in a flank attack. If successful the School House +platoon would be quite sufficient to wipe out the defence, and Rogers +would never notice their loss, as they were sent off at a moment when +the attack was crossing some dead ground.</p> + +<p>Forlorn hopes occasionally come off, and, by a fluke, at the very moment +when the attack surged over the crest of the hill, Betteridge's +exhausted platoon, with shouts and cheers, burst into Rogers's flank. +There was not the slightest doubt that the defence had been cut to +pieces.</p> + +<p>For a minute or two Rogers looked perplexed at the sea of enemies. Then +with customary urbanity he told Ferrers to form up his men and seat them +on the ground, while he gave his impression of the day's work.</p> + +<p>"I think the attack was quite satisfactory. Of course, it stood little +chance against the well-organised defence for which I myself was in a +way responsible. I believe most of the forces would have been destroyed +coming up the hill. But I think the day had a good effect on the morale +of the troops. Now morale——" He enlarged on the qualities of morale +and discipline for about ten minutes,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[Pg 241]</a></span> and concluded with the following +courteous reference to the School House flanking movement:—</p> + +<p>"I could not clearly discern what those persons were doing who came up +on my left. They would have been entirely wiped out. I considered it +somewhat foolish."</p> + +<p>A contemptuous titter broke from the School House platoon, in which +amusement and annoyance were equally mixed.</p> + +<p>"What is the good of trying at all?" said Gordon at tea that night. +"There were we, sweating over ploughed fields, banging through fences, +racing up beastly paths, and then that mouthing prelate says 'rather +silly'! What's the use of trying?"</p> + +<p>"There is none," said Betteridge. "I am going to conduct this platoon in +future on different lines. 'Evil be thou my good,' as the lad Milton +said. We will be unorthodox, original and rebellious."</p> + +<p>A few days later, Gordon and Rudd saw displayed in a boot-shop window a +wondrous collection of coloured silk shoe-laces.</p> + +<p>"Does anyone really wear those things?" said Gordon.</p> + +<p>"I suppose so, or they wouldn't show them."</p> + +<p>"They are certainly amazing."</p> + +<p>They stood looking at them as one would at a heathen god. Then suddenly +Gordon clutched Rudd's sleeve.</p> + +<p>"A notion! My word, a notion! Let's buy some pairs and wear them at +platoon drill to-morrow."</p> + +<p>Gordon was about to burst in to the shop when Rudd detained him.</p> + +<p>"Steady, man, this is a great idea. Let's buy enough for the whole +platoon. It will be a gorgeous sight! Let's fetch Betteridge."</p> + +<p>Flinging prefectorial dignity to the winds, they rushed down to the +studies.</p> + +<p>"Betteridge, you've got to let us draw upon the House funds for a good +cause."</p> + +<p>They poured out the idea. Betteridge was enthusiastic. For six shillings +they bought forty pairs of coloured laces.</p> + +<p>At twelve-thirty next morning a huge crowd lined up under the lindens to +watch the School House parade. Rumour had flown round.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[Pg 242]</a></span></p> + +<p>It was a noble spectacle. Each section wore a different coloured +shoe-lace. Gordon's wore pale blue, Rudd's pink, Foster's green, and +Collin's orange. Everyone was shaking with laughter. Betteridge formed +the platoon up in line facing the School House dormitories; sooner or +later Rogers would pass by on his way from the common room. At last he +was sighted turning the corner of the Chief's drive. Half the school had +assembled by the gates.</p> + +<p>"Private Morgan," shouted Betteridge, "fall out and do up your +shoe-lace.</p> + +<p>"Remainder—present ARMS!"</p> + +<p>Rogers was far too self-satisfied and certain of his own importance to +see that the demonstration was meant for him. But the school saw it, and +so did certain members of the staff, who made everything quite clear to +Rogers that afternoon. Finally, the Chief learnt of the affair. +Betteridge got a lecture on military discipline and on prefectorial +dignity. But a good many of the younger masters thoroughly enjoyed the +rag, and the story of the coloured shoe-laces is still recounted in +common room, when Rogers has made himself unusually tedious about his +own virtues and his cleverness in scoring off his enemies.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_III_ROMANCE" id="CHAPTER_III_ROMANCE"></a>CHAPTER III: ROMANCE</h2> + + +<p>The Tonford match was a sad travesty of Fernhurst football. The school +lost by over forty points. Gordon got his "Seconds," in company with +nearly the entire Fifteen. He was not very elated. These things had lost +their value. Still, it was as well to have them.</p> + +<p>The school authorities then came to the conclusion that the expense of +travelling was too great during war-time, and the Dulbridge match was +scratched.</p> + +<p>The Fifteen continued to play uppers. There was nothing to train for. +There was no chance of there being any matches, but the same routine +went on.</p> + +<p>It was in this period of depression that Gordon began to take an +interest in Morcombe.</p> + +<p>Morcombe was considerably Gordon's junior; not so<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[Pg 243]</a></span> much in years—there +was, as a matter of fact, only a few months between them—as in +position. Morcombe had come late; had made little mark at either footer +or cricket; and had drifted into the Army class, where, owing to private +tuition and extra hours, he found himself somewhat "out of it" in the +House. In hall he used to sit at the top of the day-room table.</p> + +<p>Gordon very rarely took hall. He generally managed to find someone to +assume the duty for him; but one day everyone seemed engaged on some +pursuit or other, so with every anticipation of a dull evening he went +down to hall. He began to read Shelley but the surroundings were +unpropitious. All about him sat huddled fragments of humanity scratching +half-baked ideas with crossed nibs into dog-eared notebooks. There was a +general air of unrest. Gordon tried <i>Sinister Street</i>; some of the +episodes in Lepard Street were more in harmony with his feelings, but +there was in Compton Mackenzie's prose a Keats-like perfection of phrase +which seemed almost as much out of place as <i>Adonais</i>. As a last resort +he began to talk to the two boys nearest him, Bray and Morcombe. Bray +always amused him; his whole outlook on life was so exactly like his +footer. But for once Gordon found him dull. Morcombe was so much more +interesting.</p> + +<p>In second hall that evening Gordon discovered from a House list that +Morcombe was in the Army class. He consulted Foster on the subject.</p> + +<p>"Know anything about a lad called Morcombe?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; he is in the Army class. Rather a fool. Why?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, nothing. I was talking to him in hall to-night. He didn't seem so +bad."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps he isn't. I haven't taken much interest in him."</p> + +<p>"I see."</p> + +<p>Gordon returned to his book. Five minutes later he began again.</p> + +<p>"Is Morcombe fairly high in form?"</p> + +<p>"Not very. Why this sudden interest?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing."</p> + +<p>Foster looked at him for a second, then burst out laughing.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[Pg 244]</a></span></p> + +<p>"What the hell's the matter with you?" said Gordon.</p> + +<p>"Oh, nothing."</p> + +<p>Gordon looked fierce, and returned once more to the history of Michael +Fane.</p> + +<p>Two nights later Gordon came into his study to find Morcombe sitting +with Foster, preparing some con.</p> + +<p>"Hope you don't mind me bringing this lad in," said Foster, "I am in +great difficulties with some con."</p> + +<p>Gordon grunted, and proceeded to bury himself in <i>The Pot of Basil</i>.</p> + +<p>"I say, Caruthers," broke in Foster. "You might help us with this +Vergil? It's got us licked. Here you are: look, 'Fortunate Senex——'"</p> + +<p>Gordon went through the familiar passage with comparative ease.</p> + +<p>"There now, you see," said Foster, "there's some use in these Sixth Form +slackers after all. By the way, what did you think of Claremont's sermon +last night?"</p> + +<p>Conversation flowed easily. Morcombe was quick, and, at times, amusing. +Gordon unaccountably found himself trying to appear at his best.</p> + +<p>"You know," he was saying, "I do get so sick of these masters who go +about with the theory of 'God's in his heaven, all's right with the +world,' and in war-time, too! With all these men falling, and no advance +being made from day to day."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Morcombe; "I agree with the 'much good, but much less good +than ill' philosophy."</p> + +<p>Gordon was surprised out of himself.</p> + +<p>"I shouldn't have thought you had read the <i>Shropshire Lad</i>."</p> + +<p>"We are not all Philistines, you know."</p> + +<p>Thus began a friendship entirely different from any Gordon had known +before. He did not know what his real sentiments were; he did not even +attempt to analyse them. He only knew that when he was with Morcombe he +was indescribably happy. There was something in him so natural, so +unaffected, so sensitive to beauty. After this Morcombe came up to +Gordon's study nearly every evening, and usually Foster left them alone +together, and went off in search of Collins.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[Pg 245]</a></span></p> + +<p>Indeed this friendship, coupled with his admiration for Ferrers, was all +that kept Gordon from wild excesses during the dark December days and +the drear opening weeks of the Easter term. During the long morning +hours, when Gordon was supposed to be reading history, more than once +there came over him a wish to plunge himself into the feverish waters of +pleasure, and forget for a while the doubts and disappointments that +overhung everything in his life. At times he would sit in the big +window-seat, when the school was changing class-rooms, and as he saw the +sea of faces of those, some big, some small, who had drifted with the +stream, and had soon forgotten early resolutions and principles in the +conveniently broadminded atmosphere of a certain side of Public School +life, he realised how easily he could slip into that life and be +engulfed. No one would mind; his position would be the same; no one +would think worse of him. Unless, of course, he was caught. Then +probably everyone would turn round upon him; that was the one +unforgivable sin—to be found out. But it was rarely that anyone was +caught; and the descent was so easy. In his excitement he might perhaps +forget a little.</p> + +<p>And then, perhaps, Ferrers would come rushing up to his study, aglow +with health and clean, fresh existence. And he would talk of books and +poetry, and life and systems, and Gordon would realise the ugliness of +his own misgivings when set beside the noble idealism of art. Ferrers +was not a preacher; he never lectured anyone. He believed in setting +boys high ideals. "We needs must love the highest when we see it." And +during these months his influence on Gordon was tremendous.</p> + +<p>Then, when the long evenings came, with Morcombe sitting in the games +study, his face flushed with the glow of the leaping fire, talking of +Keats and Shelley, himself a poem, Gordon used to wonder how he could +ever have wished to dabble in ugly things, out of his cowardice to face +the truth. Those evenings were, in fact, the brightest of his Fernhurst +days; their happiness was unsubstantial, inexplicable, incomprehensible, +but none the less a real happiness.</p> + +<p>They vanished, however; and the day would begin again, with the lonely +hours of morning school, when Gordon<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[Pg 246]</a></span> realised once more the emptiness +of his position, and how hopelessly he had failed to do any of the +things he had set out to do.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>The state of affairs was summed up by Archie Fletcher in the last week +of the Christmas term.</p> + +<p>"This place is simply ghastly, all the best fellows have gone," he said. +"Next term we shall have Rudd head of the House. All the young masters +have gone, and we are left with fossils, fretting because they are too +old to fight, and making our lives unbearable because we are too young. +As soon as I am old enough I mean to go and fight; but I can't stick the +way these masters croak away about the trenches all day long. If you +play badly at rugger you are asked what use you will be in a regiment. +If your French prose is full of howlers, you are told that slackers +aren't wanted in the trenches. Damn it all, we know that all these +O.F.'s who are now fighting in France slacked at work and cribbed; and +they weren't all in the Fifteen. And splendid men they are, too. +Fernhurst isn't what it was. Last term we had a top-hole set of chaps, +and I loved Fernhurst, but I am not going to stick here now. I am going +back home till I am eighteen. Then I'll go and fight. This is no place +for me."</p> + +<p>It was the requiem of all "the old dreams"; and Gordon knew it for his +own as well.</p> + +<p>During the Christmas holidays Gordon tried to forget as far as possible +Fernhurst, and all that Fernhurst stood for. More and more he found +himself turning for consolation to the poets; but now it was to +different poets that he turned. The battle-cry of Byron, the rebel flag +of Swinburne lost their hold over him. He himself was so entangled in +strife that he wanted soothing companions. In the poetry of Ernest +Dowson he read something of his own failure to realise the things he had +hoped for. <i>Endymion</i>, rolling like a stream through valleys and wooden +plains, carried him outside the hoarse babble of voices; <i>Comus</i> lulled +him into a temporary security with its abundance of perfect imagery. He +discovered The Poetry Bookshop in Devonshire Street and went there for +the evening readings. There was a perfect serenity in the small room at +the top of the wooden<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[Pg 247]</a></span> stairs, with the dark blue curtains, the intent +faces, the dim, shaded lights, the low voice reading. He wished that +thus, in some monastic retreat, he might spend his whole life in a world +of dreams and illusions. But he realised that the hold of life was too +strong on him. At the same time he loved and hated the blare of +trumpets, the stretching plain, the spears glimmering in the sun. He had +sought for power and position; yet when they were won he despised them. +The future was impenetrable. But he returned for the Easter term +determined to do his duty by the House, however much he might disappoint +himself.</p> + +<p>On the very first day of the term "the Bull" called him up.</p> + +<p>"You remember," he began, "there was some talk last year about altering +the conditions of the Three Cock. I think it would be much better in +every way if we could come to some arrangement by which you should play +against two houses instead of three. Conditions are so very changed. +When the match was started you had ninety boys and each outhouse had +thirty. Now you have under seventy and each outhouse over thirty-five. +It is ten years now since you won, and it is a pity it is not more of a +game. Your men can't enjoy it, and I know mine don't. What do you +think?"</p> + +<p>"I think we would all rather go on as we are at present, sir."</p> + +<p>"But don't you see how hard it is for you ever to win?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir; and it is also rather hard for us to accept charity."</p> + +<p>"Of course, I can't force anything on you. It is a matter for you to +decide. But it does seem a pity to make a match like the Three Cock a +permanent farce, merely because you are too proud to see that you can't +take on the whole school. We'll discuss the matter at the end of the +term again."</p> + +<p>When the House learnt of this interview it raged furiously.</p> + +<p>"Confounded insolence calling it a farce," said Foster. "And, after all, +we stand a chance of winning. Heavens! we will boot them to blazes."</p> + +<p>Everyone in the School House considered the idea of a change +preposterous. Gordon alone realised that the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[Pg 248]</a></span> present was an impossible +state of affairs. Sixty-four against a hundred and twenty! They couldn't +hope to win more than once in six years. He pointed this out to Morcombe +in second hall that evening.</p> + +<p>"As a matter of fact, if we win this year, I believe I shall go to 'the +Bull' and offer to change it."</p> + +<p>"But why?" said Morcombe. "There are times when I can't understand you, +and this is one of them. Surely, if we win, it is a proof that we are +good enough to go on playing! Why stop then?"</p> + +<p>"Because, if we did win, it would be only once in a way. And I can't +bear to think of our giving in after a beating by seventy points. It is +an anti-climax. I would much rather lay down our privilege willingly. +That's why I admire Sulla so much. At the very height of his power he +laid it down, and went into a glorious retirement. His is the most +dramatic exit in history. I should like the House to do that. We have +taken on too big a thing. We have got to give in sooner or later."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps so," said Morcombe; "and I suppose 'the Bull' thinks you are +thoroughly conceited and proud."</p> + +<p>"I believe so," said Gordon. "But let us talk about something else."</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>As a whole the Easter term began far more satisfactorily than the +Christmas term had ended.</p> + +<p>There were no "uppers." House captains ran everything. Morgan had been +promoted into the Lower Sixth, and Gordon found him a most entertaining +person. Naturally clever and naturally indolent, Morgan's work presented +a strange contrast. He and Gordon would settle down to prepare +<i>Œdipus Tyrannus</i> for Finnemore. They would begin lethargically. +After ten lines Morgan would ask whether they had done enough; Gordon +would fling a book at his head; somehow or other they would slop through +thirty lines. Then Morgan would shut his book, and refuse to do any +more.</p> + +<p>"Thirty lines is enough for Finnemore, and, besides, I feel rather slack +to-night."</p> + +<p>Gordon did not take the trouble to point out that the same feeling of +slackness overcame him every night.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[Pg 249]</a></span></p> + +<p>They would both pull up their chairs in front of the fire, and waste the +rest of hall talking. The next morning, however, Gordon would discover +that the lines they had prepared the night before conveyed no meaning to +him at all. He would curse Morgan, and then go up to the library, rout +out Jebbs' translation, and prepare the Greek. Then he would move across +to school with the contented feeling of work well done.</p> + +<p>Morgan would be put on to con. Gordon would wait, laughing to himself. +He was sure Morgan would make an awful mess of things. But somehow or +other Morgan always managed to translate it correctly, if not stylishly.</p> + +<p>"Morgan, you did that again when I wasn't there," Gordon would say +afterwards.</p> + +<p>"Oh no; we prepared it pretty well last night for a change."</p> + +<p>After a while Gordon got used to this apparent miracle; but he himself +had invariably to consult the English authority. He did not tell Morgan +that. The climax was reached when Finnemore, who liked Gordon and +thought him rather clever, wrote in Morgan's report: "He relies rather +too much on Caruther's help for his Sophocles translation." It was an +interpretation that had occurred to neither.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IV_THE_DAWN_OF_NOTHING" id="CHAPTER_IV_THE_DAWN_OF_NOTHING"></a>CHAPTER IV: THE DAWN OF NOTHING</h2> + + +<p>Slowly the Easter term moved on. As the days went by the sense of +failure, which had overhung everything Gordon had done the term before, +returned with an increased poignancy. The Thirds ended in a defeat which +was rendered no more pleasant by the fact that it was inevitable. No one +expected the House to win. The defeat was no reflection on Gordon's +leadership. The Chief, in fact, said to him: "We were much too small a +side, Caruthers, but I think we put up a plucky fight. You haven't +anything to grumble at. We did much better than I expected."</p> + +<p>But Gordon was always too prone to judge by results. He contrasted the +game with last year's triumphs, and with<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[Pg 250]</a></span> the glorious defeat of the +year before, which had brought more honour than many victories. It was +very different from what he had hoped for. There would not be much to +remember his captaincy by.</p> + +<p>One morning towards the middle of February he was glancing down the +casualty list, when he saw Jeffries's name among those killed. He put +the paper down, and walked very quietly across to his study. Jeffries +was well out of it, perhaps; but still Gordon wished he could have seen +him once more. That last terrible scene in Study 16 rose before his +eyes. He could almost hear the bang of the Chief's door. And now +Jeffries was dead; and no one would care. A master, perhaps, might +notice his name and say: "Just as well; he would have made a mess of his +life." They had never known Jeffries.</p> + +<p>"You look rather upset this morning," murmured Morgan from a corner of +the room. Gordon had not noticed him.</p> + +<p>"I am rather; a chap who had a study with me ... Jeffries ... he is in +the casualty list this morning."</p> + +<p>"A.R. Jeffries?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. But you didn't know him, did you?"</p> + +<p>"Oh no; but I saw his photo in a winning Thirds group."</p> + +<p>"Yes, that would be him. He was a fine forward."</p> + +<p>Gordon was glad to think that that was what his friend was remembered +for. Only the good remained. It was as Jeffries would have wished....</p> + +<p>The Two Cock drew near. There had been a good chance of winning once, +but influenza had played havoc with the side. Gordon told them they were +going to win, encouraged them, presented a smiling face, but his heart +was heavy. He saw another cup going to join the silver regiment on the +Buller's sideboard. He had never found life quite so hard before; only +Morgan's unshatterable optimism, Ferrer's volcanic energy, and his own +friendship for Morcombe made things bearable at all. And yet he had all +the things he had once wanted. Now Betteridge had left, he was +indisputably the big man in the House. Rudd was a broken reed. At last +he began to see that the mere trappings of power might deceive the +world, but not their wearer.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[Pg 251]</a></span></p> + +<p>A week before the Two Cock Tester paid an unexpected week-end visit. He +was full of vitality and exuberance. He was just the same, debonair, +light-hearted, thoroughly happy. Everyone was pleased to see him; he was +pleased to see everyone. He was almost hilarious. But as Gordon watched +him carefully, his mirth seemed like that of Byron in <i>Don Juan</i>, +laughter through his tears. The others did not notice, because they had +never known Tester.</p> + +<p>Just after prayers he met Tester on his way back from supper with the +Chief.</p> + +<p>"Hullo! I have been looking for you," he said; "come for a stroll round +the courts."</p> + +<p>"Well," said Tester, as soon as they were out of earshot, "what do you +make of it?"</p> + +<p>"Pretty awful."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I suppose you have seen a good many ideals go tumbling down. All +our generation has been sacrificed; of course it is inevitable. But it +is rather hard. The older men have seen some of their hopes realised; we +shall see none. I don't know when this war will end; not just yet, I +think. But whenever it does, just as far as we are concerned the days of +roses will be over. For the time being art and literature are dead. Look +at the rotten stuff that's being written to-day. At the beginning we +were deceived by the tinsel of war; Romance dies hard. But we know now. +We've done with fairy tales. There is nothing glorious in war, no good +can come of it. It's bloody, utterly bloody. I know it's inevitable, but +that's no excuse. So are rape, theft, murder. It's a bloody business. +Oh, Caruthers, my boy, the world will be jolly Philistine the next few +years. Commercialism will be made a god."</p> + +<p>"Do you mean there is going to be nothing for us after the war?" said +Gordon.</p> + +<p>"Not for you or me; for the masses, perhaps. No one can go through this +without having his senses dulled, his individuality knocked out of him. +It will take at least twenty years to recover what we have lost, and +there won't be much fire left in you and me by then. Oh, I can tell you +I am frightened of what's coming after. I can't face it. Of course there +may be a great revival some day. Do you<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[Pg 252]</a></span> remember what Rupert Brooke +said in <i>Second Best</i> about there waiting for the 'great unborn some +white tremendous daybreak'? That's what may happen. But our generation +will have been sacrificed for it. I suppose we should not grumble. But +we only live once. Do you remember that day of the Radley match, and +what I said about Oxford? I longed for Oxford. I wanted to begin life +over again, to sweep out the past. I was beginning to realise what +beauty meant. And then down comes the war. And I don't suppose I shall +ever have a chance now. I don't know whether there is an after life or +not, but if there is, I shall cut a pretty sorry figure, if there is +going to be a judgment. Well, it is my own fault. I put things off too +late. But I should have been a different chap, I think, if——"</p> + +<p>Foster's voice rang out across the night:</p> + +<p>"Come on, you two. What are you doing out there? The coffee's boiling +over. Buck up."</p> + +<p>"Right you are."</p> + +<p>In a second Tester had resumed his old pose of indifference. He played +his part through thoroughly; no one, as he danced with Collins up and +down the narrow study, would have associated him with the despairing +philosopher of a few moments ago. Gordon looked at him in amazement. +What a consummate actor he was! How successfully he kept his true +character to himself.</p> + +<p>Early on the Sunday morning he went back to his regiment. Gordon walked +down to the station with him.</p> + +<p>"I am going to the front in about a week, you know," said Tester, as +they were standing on the platform.</p> + +<p>"Good Lord! man, why didn't you tell us before?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I don't know. I didn't want them all unburdening themselves to +me.... Here's the train. Well, good-bye, Caruthers. Good luck."</p> + +<p>"Thanks awfully; and mind you come back all right."</p> + +<p>Tester smiled at him rather sadly.</p> + +<p>"I am not coming back," he said.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>The Two Cock came and went. The score was not very high against the +House. But it was a poor game. The school deserved to win, because they +played less badly than<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[Pg 253]</a></span> the House. But there was very little life in the +game. This may have been due to a heavy field day two days before; but +whatever it was, the result was pitiable. Gordon had almost ceased to +expect anything. Day followed day. Everyone was discontented; even +Ferrers began to doubt whether the war was having such a good effect on +the Public Schools after all. He said as much in an article in <i>The +Country</i>. He was always saying things in <i>The Country</i>. It was his +clearing ground.</p> + +<p>The Three Cock drew near. And each day Gordon began to think the House +less likely to win. He had watched the outhouses play, and knew how good +they were. One afternoon the Buller's captain challenged the House to a +friendly game. A very hard game resulted in a draw. There was nothing to +choose between the sides. And in the Three Cock Buller's would have +Claremont's and Rogers's to help them.</p> + +<p>There were discussions in the House as to whether the score would be +kept under twenty. Someone suggested it would have been a much better +game if they had accepted "the Bull's" offer of playing two houses +instead of three. When the day came the outhouse bloods were confidently +laying three to one on their chances of running up a score of over +thirty.</p> + +<p>As Gordon sat in his study after lunch, before going down to change, he +found it hard to believe that this was actually the day that he and his +friends had looked forward to for so long. It was to have marked the +start of a new era of School House greatness. It was to have been the +beginning of the new epoch. With a slightly cynical smile he compared it +with the way in which the Germans had toasted "Der Tag!" Both results +would be much the same. Lethargically he got up, put a coal or two on +the fire, and went down to change.</p> + +<p>The game followed much the same course that other Three Cocks had +followed during the last four years. For the first half the House did +fairly well, and kept the score down to thirteen to nil. Collins played +magnificently; Morgan was in form; Gordon himself was not conspicuous. +Then came the second half, when the light School House pack grew tired, +and was pushed about all over the field.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[Pg 254]</a></span> The cheering of tries grew +desultory, and unenthusiastic. The final score was forty-seven to nil.</p> + +<p>"You know, Caruthers," said Collins on the way up from the field, "we +should have done better to have only taken on two houses."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Gordon shortly.</p> + +<p>As soon as he had changed, he went over to "the Bull's" study. He had +already decided that it would be better to alter the condition of the +match once and for all. It meant to him the complete failure of all his +plans. He had set out to lead the House to victory. In the end not only +had he retired, he had actually surrendered.</p> + +<p>"The Bull" received him kindly.</p> + +<p>"Ah, come round about the match, Caruthers?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir. I think we had better play a Two Cock in future. Three houses +are a good deal more than we can take on."</p> + +<p>"Well, of course, I had seen that all along," said "the Bull." "It <i>is</i> +too much. The conditions are so changed. Of course, we can't do this +without the consent of the Games Committee. I think we had better have a +meeting to-morrow afternoon. You might tell the others, will you?"</p> + +<p>On the next day after lunch the Games Committee met in "the Bull's" +study. "The Bull" stood with his back to the fireplace.</p> + +<p>"As you know, I have called you here this afternoon about the Three +Cock. Of course conditions have so changed that it would be no +reflection on the School House——"</p> + +<p>"The Bull" went on. Gordon sat forward on the sofa listening +subconsciously. Scenes rose before his mind. Of Mansell two years back, +after Richard's Thirds, saying: "Wait till 1915." Of Hazelton in the +dormitory saying: "Our day's coming, and you'll see it, Caruthers." +Everyone had expected this year to a triumph. And here he was signing +the death warrant of School House football.</p> + +<p>"The Bull" had finished speaking.... A resolution was passed....</p> + +<p>"It is a lovely day," said "the Bull," "and I don't want to keep you in. +I expect you all want to be out doing something."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[Pg 255]</a></span></p> + +<p>Gordon got out of the study somehow or other.</p> + +<p>One of the Games Committee came up to him.</p> + +<p>"Jolly good idea of 'the Bull's,' I think. It was much too big a job for +you. Much better arrangement."</p> + +<p>"Oh, much."</p> + +<p>Gordon went back to the old games study, the very walls of which seemed +eloquent with voices of the dead. The rest of the House had gone for a +run. He was all alone. His head fell forward on his hands. The captaincy +he had tried so hard to gain had ended in pitiable failure. It was the +desolation, the utter desolation!...</p> + +<p>Of all that he had worked for during those four years nothing remained, +nothing.</p> + +<p>And as Gordon's mind dwelt on this the love of the monastic life which +had so overwhelmed him the holidays before swept over him again with +renewed vigour. In the Roman Church at any rate was there not something +permanent? <i>Quod semper, quod ubique, quod ab omnibus....</i> That boast +was surely not in vain. He longed to surrender himself completely, to +fling away his own aims and inclinations, and abandon himself to a life +of quiet devotion safe from the world. It was the natural reaction. He +had been tossed on the waters of trouble and had grown weary of strife. +In Plato's <i>Republic</i> Ulysses asked for the life of a private individual +free from care. "After battle sleep is best. After noise, tranquillity." +Dowson's exquisite lines on the <i>Nuns of the Perpetual Adoration</i> came +back to him:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"<i>They saw the glory of the world displayed,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>They saw the bitter of it and the sweet.</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>They knew the roses of the world would fade</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>And be trod under by the hurrying feet.</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Therefore they rather put away desire....</i>"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>That was what he wanted, to merge himself into the great silent poetry +of the Catholic life. The Protestant creed could never give him what he +wanted. There was too much tolerance, too much sheltering of the +individuality; he wanted a complete, an utter surrender. He passed the +entire holidays in the world of ideas; he read nothing but poetry, or +what dealt with poetry. He tried to recapture<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[Pg 256]</a></span> the wonderful +full-blooded enjoyment of that last summer term. But for all that he +found material thoughts stealing in on his most sacred moments. A chance +phrase, a word even, and there would suddenly rise before him the +spectre of his own failure. And he was forced to realise that as yet he +was unfit to lay down the imperious burden of his own personality. The +hold of life was too strong. He still wanted the praise of the populace, +"the triumph and the roses and the wine."</p> + +<p>Well, there was one more term; let him make the most of the roses while +he could. In this state of indecision he returned for what was to be his +last term.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>A big programme of First Eleven matches had been arranged; and the first +game was at Downside on the second Saturday of the term. Fernhurst won +with ease, and Gordon knocked up forty-two. The match was over before +tea; and, as the side had not to go back till six o'clock, they spent +the interval in walking round the grounds.</p> + +<p>Few schools are situated in more perfect surroundings than Downside. +There are wide gardens and flowery walks. Rhododendrons were flaming red +and white, a hedge of gorse shone gold. It was a Roman Catholic school, +and now and then a noble Calvary rose out of the flowers. The Abbey +watched over the place. Monks in long black robes moved about slowly, +magisterially. Gordon went up to one of them and spoke to him shyly.</p> + +<p>"A wonderful place this, sir."</p> + +<p>"Yes; it is the right sort of place to train a boy in. Surround him with +beautiful things, make a real perception of beauty the beacon light of +his life, when he is young, and he will be safe. For there are so many +things that are beautiful and poisonous like iridescent fungi, and it is +so hard to differentiate between the true and the false. But everything +here is so pure and unworldly that I think we manage to show our boys +what is the highest. We fail at times, but on the whole we succeed."</p> + +<p>He looked so kind, so sympathetic, this old man, that Gordon felt bound +to pour out his feelings to him.</p> + +<p>"You know, sir," he said, "I have awfully wanted to talk to a Roman +Catholic whom I thought would understand<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[Pg 257]</a></span> me, and especially one like +yourself, who has willingly abandoned all his own ambitions. There is +something very fine in the complete surrender of your Church. In ours +there is so much room for difference of opinion, so much toleration of +various doctrines. There seems so little certainty. In Rome there seems +no doubt at all."</p> + +<p>"Yes, the Catholic Faith is a very beautiful creed," said the old man; +"we are misjudged; we are called narrow-minded and bigoted. They say we +want to make everyone conform to one type, and that we bind them with +chains. But, my son, it is not with chains that the Holy Church binds +her children. It is with loving arms thrown round them. The Church loves +her children far too much to wish them to leave her even for a minute. +She wants them entirely, hers and hers alone. Perhaps you will say that +is selfish; but I do not think so. It is the great far-seeing love that +sees what is best for its own. Love is nearly always right. But if you +wish to keep your own views, to worship God in your own way, well, there +are other creeds. Protestantism, it seems to me, lets out its followers, +as it were, on strings and lets them wander about a little, laugh and +pluck flowers, in the certainty that at the last she can draw her own to +her. Well, that is one way of serving God, and in the Kingdom of God +there is no right or wrong way, provided the service be sincere. There +are many roads to heaven. Our road is one of an infinite love that draws +everything to itself. There are other ways; but that is ours."</p> + +<p>"But supposing there was a person," said Gordon, "who really wanted to +surrender himself to that perfect love, but who found the call of the +world too strong. You know, sir, I should give anything to be as you, +safe and secure. But I know I should break away; the world would call me +again. I should return, but when I give myself, I want to give myself +wholly, unconditionally. I want there to be no doubt; and I want to come +to-day."</p> + +<p>"I will tell you a story," said the monk. "I was a boy here years ago, +and there was one boy, brilliant at games and work, whom I admired very +much, and by the time I had myself reached a high position he came back +to us as a monk. I used to live in a little village, just behind that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[Pg 258]</a></span> +hill, and I used to ask him down to supper sometimes. And I remember one +day my father said to him: 'You know, I envy you a lot.'</p> + +<p>"'Why?' he asked.</p> + +<p>"'Well,' said my father, 'as far as this world is concerned you are well +provided for. You live in beautiful surroundings, comfortable and happy. +And for the next world, as far as we know, no one could be more certain +of happiness than you.'</p> + +<p>"The young monk looked at my father rather curiously, and said:</p> + +<p>"'Perhaps so; but when I look round at your happy little family and your +home interests, I think we have given up a good deal.'</p> + +<p>"And only a year later that young man ran away with a girl in the +village, and he was excommunicated from the Church. And yet I expect +that the whole time he really loved our life best; only the call of +worldly things was too strong; and he was too weak."</p> + +<p>"Then what will be the end of me?" asked Gordon.</p> + +<p>"Wait, my son. I waited a long time before I knew for certain that God's +way was best, and that the things men worshipped were vain. Those are +the most fortunate, perhaps, who can see the truth at once, and go out +into the world spreading the truth by the influence of a blameless life. +But we are not all so strong as that. It takes a long time for us to be +quite certain; and even then we have to come and shut ourselves away +from the world. We are too weak. But we have our place. And in the end +you, too, I expect, will so probe the happiness and grief of the world +and find them of little value, and when you have, you will find the Holy +Church waiting for you. It does not matter when or how you come; only +you must bring yourself wholly. It is not so very much we ask of you. +And we give with so infinite a prodigality."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Gordon, "I suppose there will be rest at last."</p> + +<p>That evening as he sat discussing the cricket match with Morgan the +captain of the school came in and gave him his "Firsts." Morgan was +profuse with congratulations. Everyone seemed pleased. It was the hour +he had long<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[Pg 259]</a></span> pictured in his imagination—the hour when he should get +his coveted "Firsts." He himself had wanted them so badly; but somehow +or other they did not mean very much just now.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_V_THE_THINGS_THAT_SEEM" id="CHAPTER_V_THE_THINGS_THAT_SEEM"></a>CHAPTER V: THE THINGS THAT SEEM</h2> + + +<p>But the heart of youth is essentially fickle; and Gordon's lambent +spirit, which had for some time almost ceased to strive for anything, +suddenly swept round to the other extreme, and was filled with the +desire to reassert itself at all costs. Suddenly, almost without +realising it, Gordon was fired with the wish to finish his school career +strongly, not to give way before adversity, but to end as he had begun. +He would be the Ulysses of Tennyson, not of Plato. "Though much is +taken, much abides ... 'tis not too late to seek a newer world." ... +Like a tiger he looked round, growling for his prey, and his opportunity +was not slow in coming.</p> + +<p>Ferrers was sitting in his study one afternoon, talking very +despondently about the general atmosphere at Fernhurst.</p> + +<p>"It is not what I had hoped for," he said; "in fact, it is quite the +reverse. The young masters are gone, the bloods are gone. The new +leaders are not sure of their feet, and these old pedants have taken +their chance of getting back their old power. And the whole school is +discontented, fed up; no keenness anywhere. The masters tell them: 'If +you aren't good at games you'll be useless in the trenches.' Wretched +boys begin to believe them. They think they are wrong, when really they +are just beginning to see the light. They are beginning to look at games +as they are. There's no glory attached to them now—no true +victories—glamour is all removed. They see games as they are, see the +things they have been worshipping all these years. But the masters tell +them games are right, they are wrong; it is their duty to do as others +did before them. Oh, I wish we could<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[Pg 260]</a></span> smash those cracked red spectacles +through which every Public School boy is forced to look at life."</p> + +<p>"But can't we, sir?"</p> + +<p>"It would be no good; they wouldn't believe you. I am getting sick. For +years I have been shouting out, and trying to prove to them what's +wrong. They won't believe. They are blind, and it is the masters' fault, +curse them. There they sit, talking and doing nothing. I begin to +worship that man, I forget his name, who said: 'Those who can, do—those +who can't, teach.' It sums up our modern education. It is all hypocrisy +and show."</p> + +<p>"But, sir," said Gordon, "we can't do much, but let's do what we can. +Now, when the glamour has fallen off athleticism, let's show the school +what wretched things they have been serving so long. If we can in any +way put a check on this nonsense now, if in Fernhurst only, we shall be +doing something. After the war we shall have a fine Fifteen winning +matches, and the school will feel its feet. We must stop it now—now, +when there is no glamour, when the school is tired of endless 'uppers,' +and sick of the whole business. Now's the time."</p> + +<p>"Yes; but how? This sort of thing doesn't happen in a night."</p> + +<p>"I know; but we can sow the seeds now. The Stoics is the thing. We can +have a debate on the 'Value of Athletics,' and, heavens! I bet the whole +House will vote against them. The House is sick of it all. We'll carry +the motion. We'll get the best men to speak. We'll give sound arguments. +Then we'll have formed a precedent. It will appear in the school +magazine that the Stoics, the representative society of Fernhurst +thought, has decided that the blind worship of games is harmful. It will +make the school think. It's a start, sir, it's a start."</p> + +<p>"You are right, Caruthers, you are right. We'll flutter the Philistine +dovecots."</p> + +<p>Gordon had not the slightest doubt about the success of the scheme. He +himself was at the very summit of his power. He had been making scores +for the Eleven out of all proportion to his skill; he was almost certain +for the batting cup. His influence was not to be discounted. He could +get the House to vote as he wanted; he was sure of it.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[Pg 261]</a></span> He told +Davenport of the scheme, and he also was enthusiastic.</p> + +<p>"By Jove! that's excellent. It's about time the school realised that +caps and pots are not the alpha and omega of our existence."</p> + +<p>The air was full of the din of onset.</p> + +<p>Nearly the whole House attended the meeting, and the outhouses rolled up +in good numbers, more out of curiosity than anything else. They thought +the whole thing rather silly. There had been a debate more than two +years back on "whether games should be compulsory." Only six had voted +against compulsion. "The Bull" remembered this, and came to the debate, +strong in his faith in the past. He wanted to see this upstart Ferrers +squashed.</p> + +<p>Ferrers himself opened the discussion with typical exuberance.</p> + +<p>"How much longer," he finished, "are we going to waste our time, our +energy, our force on kicking a football? We have no strength for +anything else. And all the time, while Germany has been plotting against +us, piling up armaments, we have been cheering on Chelsea and West Ham +United. Look at the result. We were not prepared, we are only just +getting ready now. And why? Because we had wasted our time on trivial +things, instead of things that mattered; and unless we turn away from +all this truck, trash and cant about athleticism, England is not going +to stand for anything worth having."</p> + +<p>He sat down amid tempestuous applause. The audience were really excited. +They had gradually grown sick of games during the last two terms, and +now apparently they had the best authority for doing so. Everyone likes +being congratulated.</p> + +<p>The opposition suffered in having Burgess to support them. We have heard +of him before. Years had not altered him much. He was the same +conceited, self-righteous puppet as of old. People got tired of +listening to him. There was a sound of shuffling, a window began to bang +with unnecessary noise. He sat down to an apathetic recognition.</p> + +<p>Davenport then made a very biting speech against games.</p> + +<p>"The Bull" was surprised to see him speaking on Ferrer's<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[Pg 262]</a></span> side. He was +in the Second Fifteen, and a very useful outside.</p> + +<p>"Whatever we may have done before the war," he cried, "and we did many +foolish things, it is quite obvious that now this worship of sport must +cease. Let us hope it is not revived. We are sent here to be +educated—that is, to have our minds trained; instead of that, we have +our bodies developed, our minds starved. We play footer in the +afternoon, we have gym. at all hours of the day, and other experiments +in voluntary compulsion, such as puntabouts after breakfast. The result +is we work at our play, and play at our work...." He elaborated the +scheme in an amusing way. There was a lot of laughter. "The Bull" looked +fierce. Rudd, who had for a "rag" insisted on speaking for the +opposition, discoursed on the value of "<i>mens sana in corpore sano</i>." +Everyone shrieked with laughter.</p> + +<p>He finished up thus:</p> + +<p>"Well, look at me. I am the hardest-working fellow in the school." A +roar of laughter went up. Rudd had nearly been deprived of his position +of school prefect for doing so little work. "I am also a fine athlete. +To-day I clean bowled two people on the pick-up, and hit a splendid four +over short-slip's head. I am what I am because of our excellent system +of work and play. Look at me, I say, and vote for athleticism."</p> + +<p>Buffoonery is often more powerful than the truest oratory.</p> + +<p>The motion was put before the House.</p> + +<p>A lot of people spoke. All in favour of the motion. It was great fun +watching "the Bull's" face grow gradually darker. Morgan said that only +fools and Philistines cared for games. They were amusing to pass an +afternoon with, and because one had to have exercise, but that was all.</p> + +<p>Gordon waited till near the end, then he got up.</p> + +<p>"I must first congratulate everyone on the broadminded view they have +taken of this important question; and I think it is an infallible proof +that the days of athletic domination are ended. For, after all, is it +any wonder that clear-thinking men like A.C. Benson pull our system to +pieces, when we have to own that for the last twenty years at least the +only thing Public School boys have cared about<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[Pg 263]</a></span> is games? And with such +a belief they go out into life, to find the important posts seized by +men who have really worked. No one works at a Public School. People who +do are despised. If they happen to be good at games as well, they are +tolerated. It is a condemnation of the whole system. And, after all, +what are games? Merely a form of exercise; we have got to keep our +bodies healthy, because, as Mr Rudd so wisely put it, a healthy mind +means a healthy body. Games were invented because people wanted to enjoy +their exercise. We all enjoy games. I love cricket; but that does not +make me worship it. I like eating; but I don't make a god of a chocolate +éclair. We can like a thing without bowing down to it, and that's how we +have got to treat games. Some fool said 'the battle of Waterloo was won +on the playing fields of Eton'; and a fool he was, too. Games don't win +battles, but brains do, and brains aren't trained on the footer field. +It is time we realised that; and I think from the way the speaking has +gone to-night, the school is beginning to understand. Now is the chance +to show that you think so. There are no good athletes in the school +to-day, the Eleven's rotten and the Fifteen is worse. Men like Lovelace +major <i>were</i> almost worth worshipping, because they were men; they made +athletics appear grand, because they were such glorious creatures +themselves; but there are none of that sort here now. We can see games +as they really are without any false mist of sentiment, and we can see +that for years we have been worshipping something utterly wrong."</p> + +<p>Gordon's speech really made an impression. After all, he was a blood, +one of the best all-round athletes in the school, and if he thought like +that, there must be something in what so many people were saying.</p> + +<p>The question was put to the vote, and was carried by an enormous +majority.</p> + +<p>"The Bull" looked for a moment at the crowd of faces that had spurned +the things he admired, looked as one who saw nothing, turned on his heel +and strode out of the room.</p> + +<p>"Well, we won! Glorious!" said Ferrers.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Gordon, "'we have lit this day a candle that, by the grace +of God, shall never be put out'!"</p> + +<p>He went down to hall, flushed with triumph. After all,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[Pg 264]</a></span> there were some +compensations for everything; but he could not remove the feeling that +out of all the change and turmoil of his Fernhurst career he had +retained nothing tangible. He had written his name upon water; he had as +yet found nothing that would accompany him to the end of his journey. He +knew that his friendship for Morcombe would lead to nothing: very few +school friendships last more than a year or so after one or other has +left. He thought of Byron's line: "And friendships were formed too +romantic to last." It was too true, he had yet to find his real ideal. +He was about to begin the serious battle of life. He was standing on the +threshold. The night was black before him; he had no beacon fire to lead +him. He dimly perceived that beauty was the goal to which he was +striving. But he had only a vague comprehension of its meaning. He had +no philosophy. Doubtless in the end the Roman Church, the mother of +wanderers, would take him to her breast. But that was a long way off +yet, and he wished to bring himself to the final surrender, strong and +clean-hearted, not a vessel broken on the back-wash of existence. And +yet he had no true guide for the years that stretched before him. This +last episode of the debate seemed to bring it home to him more clearly. +His life had so far been composed of isolated triumphs and isolated +defeats, which had not yet so combined one with another as to form a +bedrock of experience which would serve as a standard for future +judgments. He had made merry, careless of what the next day would bring. +He had fought with "the Bull"; and in the struggle he had achieved some +things, and failed to achieve more. He had at one time prayed for the +long contention to cease; at another he had laughed in the face of his +enemy, flushed with the joy of battle. Gazing back on his past, he +seemed to stand as a spectator, watching a person who was himself and +yet not himself, going through a life of many varied experiences, now +plunging in the mud, now soaring to the heights. But the incidents only +affected him in a dull, subconscious manner. He had learnt nothing from +them. His school days would soon be over, and yet he felt as though he +were beginning life all over again. He had found nothing that could +stand the wear of time and chance.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[Pg 265]</a></span></p> + +<p>But still there remained a few more weeks of Fernhurst; whatever +happened, he swore that he would finish as befitted a king. "Samson +would quit himself like Samson." There would be time enough for doubts +and introspection when it was all over, when for the last time the +familiar eight-forty swept him out of Fernhurst's life for ever. At +present it was his to leave behind him a name that would survive a +little while, "nor all glut the devouring grave." It should be +remembered of him that during his day of power he had never once given +way, had stood his ground, had never known the poignancy of the +"second-best."</p> + +<p>Until now Gordon had never really quarrelled with anyone in his own +house. All his encounters had been with outhouse men or "the Bull": he +might have helped to make the House feel independent of the school, but +he had always aimed at the unity of the House's aim. It was a pity that +his last contest should have been with the head of his own house.</p> + +<p>Rudd was a bad head; there could be no doubt about that. His dormitory +made him apple-pie beds, and soaked his candle in water, so that it +would not light. The day-room ragged him mercilessly. Gordon had never +minded. In comparison with Rudd's weakness his own strength shone the +more. It made him so essentially the big power in the House. But things +reached a limit shortly after half term, when Rudd tried to drag him in +to help him in his troubles, and shelter behind the rest of the +prefects.</p> + +<p>It all arose from a most "footling" source. Rudd was taking hall, and +the usual music hall performance was in full swing. Bray had asked to +borrow some ink, and having once gained a pretext for walking about, was +dancing up and down the floor singing <i>What would the Seaside be without +the Ladies?</i> Everyone was, of course, talking. Now a certain Stockbrew, +imagining himself a poet, immortalised the occasion with the following +stirring lyric:—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"<i>Ruddy-doodle went to town</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>In his little suit of brown,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>As he could not find his purse</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>He cried aloud, 'Oh, where's my nurse?</i>'"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Like the famous quatrain <i>The Purple Cow</i>, this poem<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[Pg 266]</a></span> immediately +achieved a success totally out of proportion to its merits. It was +passed slowly down the table. Finally it reached Bray.</p> + +<p>"Ah, Rudd," he said, "I believe this is meant for you."</p> + +<p>Rudd read it, and flushed a dusky red.</p> + +<p>"Who wrote this?"</p> + +<p>Proudly the author claimed his work.</p> + +<p>"Well—er—let me see," said Rudd: "it is er—gross impertinence. Come +and see me after breakfast to-morrow."</p> + +<p>The poet sat down, and his friends showered condolences on him; Bray +recommenced his wanderings.</p> + +<p>That night in second hall Rudd called a prefects' meeting to discuss the +affair. He pointed out that it was gross insolence to a prefect, and +that a prefects' beating was the recognised punishment for such an +offence. Gordon protested vehemently.</p> + +<p>"But, damn it all, Rudd, if you are such a weak-kneed ass as to be +ragged by a fool like Stockbrew, you jolly well oughtn't to be head of +the House. And, by the way, we haven't heard this masterpiece of satire +read out yet."</p> + +<p>"I don't think there's any need," said Rudd.</p> + +<p>"Well, I think there is," said Gordon. "I am not going to see a kid +beaten for an unknown piece of cheek. Read the thing out!"</p> + +<p>With many blushes Rudd read it out.</p> + +<p>"Ah, jolly suitable, too," said Foster. "What you want is a nurse. Good +lord, man, can't you look after yourself in hall. Jolly ignominious, +isn't it, having to call up a lot of prefects to back you up? Fine +example to the rest of the House, isn't it?"</p> + +<p>"Well," stammered Rudd, "I don't pretend to be a strong prefect."</p> + +<p>"You certainly aren't," said Foster.</p> + +<p>"That's beside the point," said Rudd. "I have been cheeked by Stockbrew, +and I am a prefect. The punishment for that is a prefects' beating. +There'll be a pre.'s meeting here to-morrow at eight, and if you have +anything to grouse about, go to the Chief."</p> + +<p>He flounced out of the room like a heroine of melodrama.</p> + +<p>"I don't think we'll go to Chief," said Gordon, "he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[Pg 267]</a></span> would be utterly +fed up. But I am jolly well not going to be made an ass of by Rudd. +Think what fools we shall look trotting about on Rudd's apron strings +like policemen after a cook."</p> + +<p>"Well, what can we do?" said Davenport.</p> + +<p>"Do? Why, make Rudd look a bigger ass than we. We have got to give this +lad a pre.'s beating. There's no way out of it. We have got to. But if +we let the House know about this, a crowd will collect; Rudd will go +first and make two fairly effective shots. We shall then proceed in +rotation. We will just tap him; the crowd will roar with laughter; it +will be damned amusing, and Rudd will look a most sanguinary ass."</p> + +<p>"I see," said Foster. "Hat's off to the man with the brain."</p> + +<p>"But is it quite the game?" suggested Davenport, a stickler for +etiquette.</p> + +<p>"Is it the game for Rudd to drag us in to back him up? In this world, +unfortunately, two blacks invariably make a white."</p> + +<p>"I suppose it's all right," said Davenport.</p> + +<p>No one else made any objection. Foster and Gordon usually got their own +way. The prefects dispersed. Gordon went to tell Morgan the glad +tidings. The news was all round the House in a few minutes. Rudd was +generally regarded as a priceless fool; it was sure to be good sport.</p> + +<p>Then next morning Stockbrew presented himself at Rudd's study. He was +terribly overcome at the sight of so formidable a gathering. He wished +he had padded. No one had told him of what was to happen. It would have +spoilt the situation.</p> + +<p>The prefects sat in chairs round the room; Rudd, terribly nervous, was +perched on the table. He delivered as short a lecture as possible on the +sacredness of the prefectorial dignity and the insignificance of the +day-room frequenter.</p> + +<p>In a procession they moved to the V. A green. Stockbrew led, Rudd +followed, cane in hand. It was all very impressive. Round the V. A green +runs a stone path; a good many people were clustered there; there were +faces in the V. B class-room just opposite; in the library on the right; +even in the Sixth Form class-room on the left.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">[Pg 268]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Quite an audience for this degrading business," sighed Foster.</p> + +<p>"'Butchered to make a Roman holiday,'" said Davenport, who loved a stale +quotation. Stockbrew bent over the chain that ran round two sides of the +green. Rudd delivered two fairly accurate shots. Stockbrew stirred +uncomfortably. He had dim recollections of Claremont reading a poem by +Mrs Browning on "the great God Pan" and how cruel it was to "make a poet +out of a man!" He saw her meaning now. Then the farce began.</p> + +<p>Gordon went up, carefully arranged the victim's coat, stepped back as if +preparing a brutal assault, and then flicked him twice. A roar of +laughter broke from all sides. Rudd shifted uneasily on his feet.</p> + +<p>Foster went up and did the same, then Davenport, then the rest of the +prefects. The very walls seemed shrieking with laughter.</p> + +<p>Flushing dark red, Rudd strode across to his study. Such dignity as he +had ever had, had been taken from him. Everyone had seen his ignominy.</p> + +<p>The next time he took hall a pandemonium broke out such as never had +been heard before. A game of cricket was played with a tennis ball and a +Liddell and Scott; Gordon crossing the courts heard it, and he decided +to clinch his victory. He went down to the day-room and walked straight +in. There was instant silence. Gordon took no notice of Rudd whatever.</p> + +<p>"Look here, you men, you are making a filthy row down here. I heard it +right across the courts. The Chief might hear it easily. You have got to +shut up. If I hear any more noise I shall give every man two hundred +lines; so shut up."</p> + +<p>There was comparative peace after this. Rudd had ceased to count in +House politics. To all intents and purposes Gordon was head of the +House, and the House regarded him as such. Rudd was generally known as +the "nominal head." Gordon had got his power, and for the next six weeks +he decided to enjoy it to the full. On the cricket field, although not +quite keeping to the promise or the luck of May, he did well enough to +make the batting cup quite certain. There was now no fear of any defeat<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">[Pg 269]</a></span> +clouding his last days. He had ceased to worry himself with analysing +his emotions. He let himself enjoy the hour of happiness while he still +had it, and did not trouble to question himself how long it would last. +He had passed through the time of blind depression during the Easter +term when he had seen hope after hope go down: he had come through +somehow. It did not matter with what inward searchings of heart. +Outwardly he had been a success. Now his outward triumph was even more +pronounced. As a few weeks before he had been too prone to look at the +inward to the total exclusion of the outward aspect of things, now he +began to consider only the things that seem. It was the swing of the +pendulum. It remained for him to find the <i>media via</i>.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>The last days of June and the early weeks of July passed calmly. In the +mornings he lounged in his study, reading novels, or talking to Morgan. +The afternoons went by like a cavalcade, with the white figures on the +cricket ground, the drowsy atmosphere of the pavilion, the shadows +lengthening across the ground. Then the evenings came, with Morcombe +sitting in his study getting helped in his work, or talking about books +and people and ideas. The House matches began. A-K senior had an average +side, but no one expected them to do very much, and it was a surprise +when, by beating Christy's and Claremont's, they qualified to meet an +exceptionally strong Buller's side in the final. Foster and Gordon +looked forward to their last match at Fernhurst with the cheerful +knowledge that they had no chance of winning, and that therefore they +had nothing to fear of disappointment. It would be a jolly friendly game +to finish up with. The days raced past so quickly that it came as a +shock to Gordon to discover that his last week, with its examinations +and threatening form lists, had really come.</p> + +<p>"I shall be sorry to leave, you know," he said to Foster. "I am not at +all looking forward to the army."</p> + +<p>"Last Christmas I would have given anything to get out of this place," +Foster answered. "But now, my Lord; I wish I was coming back. We've had +a good time this term."</p> + +<p>The first three days of that last week it rained incessantly.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">[Pg 270]</a></span> The +Senior final was postponed till the Thursday. Examinations took their +desultory course. Gordon had often in the past slacked in exams, but +never had he treated them in quite the same indifferent way as he did +this term. He had no intention of spoiling his last days by working. +Every morning the Sixth went in for a three hours' paper, at +nine-thirty. Before eleven Gordon had always shown up his papers, and +strolled out of the room to read <i>Paradise Lost</i> in his study. In the +afternoon he usually managed to toss off the two hours' exam. in three +quarters of an hour.</p> + +<p>He was "finishing in style." On Thursday the rain stopped at last, and +the Senior final began.</p> + +<p>"Foster," said Gordon, as the two walked down to the field, "I believe +ours is one of the very worst sides that ever got into the final. There +are two Firsts, you and I. Collins was tried for the Colts two years +ago. There are eight others."</p> + +<p>"Oh, you forget Bray, a fine, free bat with an unorthodox style. But ... +I believe he made fourteen on a House game the other day."</p> + +<p>"Yes, that is a recommendation, of course, but somehow I don't think we +shall win."</p> + +<p>"Win!" echoed Foster. "We shall be lucky if we avoid an innings defeat."</p> + +<p>And this supposition proved still more likely when half-an-hour later +the House, having won the toss, had lost three wickets for as many runs. +Jack Whitaker, now captain of Buller's, had gone on to bowl first from +the end nearest the National Schools. In his first over he clean bowled +Gordon, and in the next he got Foster leg before, and Bradford caught in +the slips.</p> + +<p>"I foresee," said Collins, "that we shall spend most of this game +fielding. A poor way of occupying our last few days."</p> + +<p>"That's where I score," said Gordon; "the wicket-keeper has no running +to do, and, besides, I rather enjoy a game in which there is nothing to +lose, no anxiety or anything. It is a peaceful end to a turgid +career.... Oh, well hit!"</p> + +<p>Bray had just lifted a length ball off the middle stump over short-leg's +head.</p> + +<p>"That's the sort of cricket I like," said Gordon; "a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">[Pg 271]</a></span> splendid contempt +for all laws and regulations. Heavens! there he goes again!"</p> + +<p>A lucky snick flew over the slips to the boundary.</p> + +<p>"This is something like," said Foster, and prepared to enjoy himself.</p> + +<p>And certainly Bray's cricket was entertaining. He treated every ball the +same; he stepped straight down the pitch with his left foot, raised his +bat in the direction of point and then, as the ball was bowled, he +pivoted himself violently on his left foot and, going through a complete +half-circle, finished, facing the wicket-keeper, with both feet outside +the crease, but his bat well over the line. The chief attraction of this +gymnastic feat was the unexpectedness of it all. No one knew where the +ball would go if it was hit. Once when he timed his shot a little late +he caught the ball just as it was passing him and drove it flying past +the wicket-keeper's head to where long-stop would have been. The +fielding side was always glad to see Bray's back, and it usually did not +have to wait long. But to-day he bore a charmed life. He was missed at +point once, twice he gave a chance of being stumped, the ball shaved his +wickets times innumerable. But nearly every other ball he managed to hit +somewhere. In the pavilion the School House rocked with laughter.</p> + +<p>At the other end Davenham poked about scoring singles here and there. +The score crept up. Amid cheers in which laughter was blended, the fifty +went up. Then Bray, in a particularly gallant effort to steer a ball +well outside the off stump round to short-leg, hit, all three wickets +flying out of the ground. It was a suitable end to an unusual innings.</p> + +<p>He received a royal welcome in the pavilion.</p> + +<p>"Bray, my son," said Gordon, "you are a sportsman. Come to the tuck-shop +and have a drink. Nellie, mix this gentleman an ice and a lemonade, and +put it down to my account. Thank you. Ah, there's Collins. Good luck, +Collins; keep your head."</p> + +<p>Two minutes later Collins returned to the pavilion with a downcast face.</p> + +<p>"The damned thing broke," he said, as if he considered breaks illegal in +House matches.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">[Pg 272]</a></span></p> + +<p>The rest of the side played in the usual light-hearted School House +spirit. There were some fine hits made, and some scandalous ones, too. +It was like a cinematograph show. Everyone slammed about; the Buller's +men missed catches galore. Davenport was missed four times in making +fourteen. Somehow the score reached respectable heights. Byes helped +considerably. The final score was one hundred and twenty.</p> + +<p>"And now," said Collins, "we have got to field for two hours to-day. +To-morrow is not a half, so we shall have to field all the time; we +sha'n't get a knock till after roll on Saturday. Five hours' fielding. +Damn!"</p> + +<p>"And it will do you a lot of good, too," said Foster. "Are you all +ready, House? Come on then."</p> + +<p>A-K Senior filed out into the field. A loud cheer rose from the crowd. +The House was amazingly partisan. Whether a House side is losing by an +innings or winning by two hundred runs, it is always sure of the same +reception when it goes on to the field from its own men. The light had +grown rather bad and Foster began bowling with the trees at his back, so +as to hide his delivery. At the other end Bradford was to bowl.</p> + +<p>The start was sensational.</p> + +<p>Buller's sent in Crampin and Mitchell first, two hefty footballers, with +strong wrists and no science, who had run up some big scores in the +preliminary rounds.</p> + +<p>Foster ran up to bowl. Crampin had a terrific swipe. The ball turned +from the bat. The bat only just touched it.</p> + +<p>"How's that?" roared Gordon.</p> + +<p>The finger went up. A ripple of clapping ran along the side of the +ground.</p> + +<p>"You stick to that," said Collins, "and we shall get them out by +to-morrow night."</p> + +<p>"Dry up," said Gordon ironically. "Can't you see we are going to win?... +Man in!"</p> + +<p>Jack Whitaker came in. He was far and away the most stylish bat in the +school, and had scored a lot of runs during the season. He faced the +bowling confidently; he had played Foster a hundred times at the nets, +and knew his tricks well. He played through the over with ease. The last +ball he placed in front of short-leg for a single.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">[Pg 273]</a></span></p> + +<p>Bradford went on to bowl. He was a House match class of bowler. No idea +of length, or direction, only an indefatigable energy and considerable +pace. His first ball was a long hop wide on the off. Whitaker banged it +past point for four.</p> + +<p>The next ball was a full pitch to leg. Collins had to run about a +hundred yards to rescue it from the road. Bradford looked fierce. He +took a longer run than usual, rushed up to the wicket, and plunged the +ball in with all his force. A howl of untuneful applause rose from under +the trees. The ball not only happened to be straight, but was also a +yorker. Whitaker's middle stump fell flat.</p> + +<p>There are times when a panic seizes the very best side, and for the next +hour and a half the House had the pleasant experience of watching an +unusually strong Buller side rabbit out before a very moderate attack. +Buller's side contained four First and two Second Eleven colours, to say +nothing of three Colts caps. And yet by six o'clock the whole team was +dismissed for eighty-three. There was nothing to account for the rot. +Foster and Bradford bowled unchanged. Bradford took six of the wickets, +four clean bowled. It was incomprehensible.</p> + +<p>"I can't understand it," said Gordon at tea. "Bradford was bowling the +most utter drivel half the time, I would have given anything to have +been batting. And you were not bowling at your best, you know, Foster."</p> + +<p>"I am well aware of that; but, heavens! it was sheer joy. Look at old +Collins, down there, beaming at the thought of not having to field +to-morrow."</p> + +<p>"It's all right," mumbled Collins from a huge cup of tea.</p> + +<p>"By Jove! wouldn't it be gorgeous if we could win this match, and finish +up by beating the Buller crowd at their own game?" said Gordon. "Damn it +all, I don't see why we shouldn't. What we have done once we can do +again. They are a better side, I know, but we'll have a damned good shot +at winning."</p> + +<p>Of course Buller's laughed at the whole thing.</p> + +<p>"It's really rather funny," they said. "But, of course, we are in +absolutely no danger of losing. We couldn't wreck like that again; and, +what's more, we shouldn't let<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">[Pg 274]</a></span> an ass like Bray make so many runs again. +We are quite safe!"</p> + +<p>The School House kept quiet. They were not going to shout their hopes +all over the school. It would look so bad if they got thoroughly beaten +in the end. But in the studies and dormitories that night there was only +one thought in all those minds—that victory was possible.</p> + +<p>The next day it rained the whole time. The courts were flooded with +water, the branches dripped with a tired languor. Gordon polished off +two exams with masterly speed, and returned to his study.</p> + +<p>Saturday morning broke grey and wet. It rained spasmodically till +mid-day, and then cleared up. With a sigh of relief Gordon walked up the +big schoolroom to show up the last piece of work that he would do at +Fernhurst. For a last composition it was hardly creditable. A long paper +on the <i>Œdipus Tyrannus</i> was finished in under an hour. But Gordon +had ceased to care for academic distinctions. As he closed the door of +the big school, and went out into the cloisters, he realised that a +certain stage of his journey was over and done with for ever.</p> + +<p>By lunch-time all signs of rain had cleared off, and the sun shone down +on an absolutely sodden ground. Runs would be very hard to get. A lead +of thirty-seven meant a lot on such a wicket. An atmosphere of nervous +expectation overhung the House. Everyone was glad when the meal was +over.</p> + +<p>The match began directly after lunch. There would be very likely some +difficulty in finishing the game that day. Collins and Foster went in +first. Gordon had asked to be kept back till later. The start was dull. +Foster was taking no risks, and Collins seemed unable to time the ball +at all, which was luckily always off the wicket. Ten went up after +quarter of an hour's play.</p> + +<p>And then Foster, reaching out to play forward, slipped on the wet grass +and was stumped. Three balls later Bradford was caught and bowled. It +was Gordon's turn to go in. Nearly everything depended on him. If he +failed, the whole side would probably collapse. The tail had done +miracles in the first innings; but it could not be expected to do the +same again.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">[Pg 275]</a></span></p> + +<p>Gordon took guard nervously. He resolved to play himself in carefully, +but he never could resist the temptation to have a "go." The first ball +was well up, just outside the off stump. Gordon stepped across and let +fly. He had forgotten how slow the pitch was. The ball hung; he was much +too soon; the ball sailed straight up into the air! Point and +cover-point both ran for it. "Crampin!" yelled out Whitaker. Neither +heard; they crashed into one another; the ball fell with a dull thud. +The House gave a gasp of relief.</p> + +<p>It was a costly mistake. For when once he got his eye in, Gordon was +very hard to get out. And, moreover, he was one of the few people who +could get runs quickly on a really wet wicket, for the simple reason +that nearly all his shots went into the air; and so he did not find the +sodden ground making off drives which should have resulted in fours only +realise singles.</p> + +<p>That afternoon Gordon found the bowling perfectly simple. At the other +end wickets fell slowly, but he himself was scoring fast. A hard shot +over cover-point sent up his individual fifty, and two overs later he +drove a length ball on the off stump past mid on to the boundary, and +the hundred went up amid cheers.</p> + +<p>"It is a mystery to me," said Foster, "how that man Caruthers ever gets +a run at all; he has no defence, and hits straight across everything."</p> + +<p>"Don't let's worry about that," said Collins; "sufficient be it that he +is hitting these Buller's swine all over the place. Oh, good shot!"</p> + +<p>A half-volley had landed first bounce among the masters sitting under +the wall. The umpire signalled six.</p> + +<p>One hundred and fifty went up.</p> + +<p>And then Gordon mistimed a slow yorker, and was clean bowled for +eighty-five.</p> + +<p>He was received with a storm of clapping; the House lined up cheering as +he ran in between the ropes.</p> + +<p>"Gratters! Well done!" shouted Foster. "That's a damned fine knock to +finish your Fernhurst cricket days with! Well done!"</p> + +<p>Everyone came up and congratulated him. It was a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">[Pg 276]</a></span> proud moment, in some +ways the proudest of his whole career.</p> + +<p>A few minutes later another burst of clapping signalled the end of the +innings. The side had made one hundred and eighty-six. Buller's were +left with two hundred and twenty-three to win. Anything might happen. +Just before five Foster led the House on to the field.</p> + +<p>The next hour and a half was fraught with delirious happiness and +excitement. Foster bowled magnificently, Bradford managed to keep a +length; the whole side fielded splendidly. Wicket after wicket fell. +Victory became a certainty. Gloom descended over the Buller's side. +Round the pavilion infants with magenta hat ribbons yelled themselves +hoarse. It was one of those occasions in which eternity seems compressed +into an hour. Half-past six came. No one went up to tea, everyone was +waiting for the end. At last it came. Whitaker, who alone had been able +to withstand the School House attack, over-reached himself, Gordon +gathered the ball quickly, the bails flew off. The umpire's hand rose. A +wild shriek rose from the crowd. Gordon's last game at Fernhurst was +over; his last triumph had come; at last "Samson had quit himself like +Samson." Through the lines of shrieking juniors the team passed into the +pavilion. Gordon began to collect his things, to pack up his bag. He +gave it to a fag to carry up.</p> + +<p>Collins and Foster and Gordon walked up from the field arm in arm.</p> + +<p>"Well, if we stopped on here for a hundred years," said Foster, "we +shouldn't find a better hour to leave."</p> + +<p>"Yes, the end has made up for any disappointments on the way. It will be +a long time before we have as wonderful a time again," Gordon said, as +he passed in the sunset, for the last time, through the gate of the +cricket-field which had been, for him, the place of so many happy +hours.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">[Pg 277]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VI_THE_TAPESTRY_COMPLETED" id="CHAPTER_VI_THE_TAPESTRY_COMPLETED"></a>CHAPTER VI: THE TAPESTRY COMPLETED</h2> + + +<p>To Gordon this match seemed the ideal rounding off of his career. There +had been no anti-climax, with him the best had come at the end. He would +not have to look back and compare his last term unfavourably with the +glories of yester year. He had done what he set out to do, he would step +rose-garlanded out of the lighted room, in the flush of his success. It +was exactly as he had wished. Perfectly satisfied, he lay back in his +chair, with his feet on the table, too tired to do anything, merely +thinking.</p> + +<p>There was a knock at the door.</p> + +<p>"Come in."</p> + +<p>Rudd came in nervously with a House list in his hand.</p> + +<p>"The Chief wants a list of the trains people are going home by."</p> + +<p>"Eight-forty to Waterloo."</p> + +<p>"Thanks."</p> + +<p>Rudd walked towards the door, but as he put his hand on the knob he +turned round.</p> + +<p>"Well," he began falteringly, "I suppose you are jolly proud of yourself +now, aren't you?"</p> + +<p>"What the hell do you mean?"</p> + +<p>"You know quite well. You have done damned well according to your own +point of view. You have aimed at getting the supreme power, and you have +got it all right." Rudd had lost his nervousness now, he was shifting +his feet a little, but the sentences flowed easily. "I am a weak head, I +know, and you have managed to smash me quite easily. It wasn't very +hard, although you pretend you are the devil of a fellow."</p> + +<p>"What on earth are you driving at?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, not much; only I want to show you how much you have done for the +House. You are big, and you're strong, and all that; you've broken up +any authority I ever had, and you've taken it yourself. And, of course, +as long as you are here, it's all very well. But what about when you +have left? You are too self-centred to see anybody else's point of view. +<i>Après moi le deluge</i>; that's your philosophy. As<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">[Pg 278]</a></span> long as you yourself +prosper, you don't care a damn what happens to anyone else, and you have +prospered right enough. You'll have left a name behind you, all right."</p> + +<p>"I don't want to have to kick you out, Rudd," said Gordon.</p> + +<p>"I don't care what you say; I'm going to finish what I have got to say. +You'll probably not understand, you are too short-sighted. But what sort +of future have you left the House? Order was kept all right when you +were here; you are strong. But when you have left, who is going to take +your place? Foster could have, but he's leaving. Davenport's leaving +too, so's Collins. The new prefects will be weak. At the best they would +have had a hard time. But probably the prefectorial dignity would have +been sufficient, if you hadn't smashed it up. You say 'personality' must +rule, but there is not so much personality flying about. We weak men +have got to shelter ourselves behind the strength of a system, and you +have smashed that. No one is going to obey me next term. They know I am +incapable; but they wouldn't have found it out but for you. That's what +you've done this term. You yourself have succeeded, but your success has +meant the ruin of the House for at least a year, that's what you have +done. And I expect you are jolly proud of yourself, too. You only care +for yourself."</p> + +<p>Rudd finished exhausted, and stood there gasping. Gordon looked straight +at him for a second or so, then picked up a book and began to read; Rudd +shifted from foot to foot for a minute and then moved out quickly.</p> + +<p>What an ass the man was, thought Gordon. The beaten man always tries to +make the victor's defeat seem less. It is all he has to do. Damn it all, +a man has to look after himself in this world; everyone was struggling +to get to the top, and the weak had to be knocked out of the way.</p> + +<p>Then Foster came in aglow with excitement, and the two went up to the +tuck-shop and ate numerous ices, and made a great row, and knocked over +many chairs, and threw sugar about. Rudd was clean forgotten, as they +rolled back triumphantly, just as the roll bell was ringing. Work was +over. Gordon wandered round the studies, talking to everyone; in second +hall they had a celebration supper for the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">[Pg 279]</a></span> whole side. They had two +huge pies, a ham, countless éclairs; they sang songs, laughed and told +anecdotes. They finished with the school <i>Carmen</i>, and drank to the +House's future success. Laughing and singing, they at last made for the +dormitories.</p> + +<p>But when the lights went out, and silence descended on the dormitory, +Gordon began to think of his conversation with Rudd; and, as he thought, +there came over him again the fierce longing to get to the heart of +things and to see life as it was, shorn of its coverings. Looking at his +career from the spectator's point of view, even Christy would have to +own that it had been eminently successful. He had been captain of the +House; no one had blamed him that the House had failed to win their +matches; no one can make bricks without straw; what did matter was that +he had always stood up for the House's rights, he had never given way to +"the Bull," he had been strong. This last term he had been head of the +House in all but name; he had won the batting cup; and he had finished +by playing a big part in the biggest triumph that the House had achieved +for several years. In all outward aspects he had been a great success.</p> + +<p>But Gordon had had enough of outward aspects. He wanted to get to the +root of things, to get on terms of equality with life; he was tired of +seeing everything through flickering glass. What had he actually done?</p> + +<p>And when he began to sum up his achievements, he was forced to own that +most of them were athletic triumphs, and athletics meant little to him. +He had long ceased to worship them. Because a man could make a big score +in a House match, it did not mean that he was in any way fit for the +battle of life; and what else had he done? He had carried on guerrilla +warfare with "the Bull." It had never come to a real head; so little +does. Most things are left unaccomplished in the end; and what had he +gained by this contest, and what had been the use of it? "The Bull" was +one of the few really fine masters in the school. He was a man, and +towered above the puny pettiness of Rogers; he was the "noblest Roman of +them all," yet Gordon had spent a whole year fighting against a man whom +he at heart admired. It was, of course, the inevitable clash of two<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">[Pg 280]</a></span> +egotisms; but that did not alter the facts. He had been wasting himself +fighting against a fine man, when there were so many rotten traditions +and useless customs that ought to be attacked; but he had let them +alone. The only abuse he had attacked was the worship of sport, and he +began to wonder whether it had been worth it. Might it not have been +better to have let the school go on believing in its gods a little +longer? He had broken down a false god, but had he given the School +anything to worship in its stead? Better a false god than no god at all.</p> + +<p>Rudd had been right. He had smashed through a garden of dandelions. He +had rooted up flowers and weeds indiscriminately. He had done nothing +wonderful; and he had left desolation behind him. Nothing would grow for +some time in the plot he had ruined. And yet he was "a great success," +the world said.</p> + +<p>"Only the superficial do not judge by appearances," Wilde had said, +mocking at society; and he had been right. Life was a sham, a mass of +muddled evolutions; the world was too slack to find out the truth, or +perhaps it was afraid to discover it. For the truth was not pleasant. +Gordon did not know what it was; all he saw was that life was built of +shams, that no one worshipped anything but the god of things that seem. +He lay supine, cursing at the darkness.</p> + +<p>The next morning he woke with the same feeling of depression; he looked +round his dormitory. There were seven of them, all perfectly happy and +contented. And why? Merely because they looked at the surface, because +they did not take the trouble to find out what was true and what was +false. They were happy in their ignorance, and he, too, could be happy +if he just took things as they were. His last few weeks had been so full +of joy, because he had not taken the trouble to think. Thought was the +cause of unhappiness. And yet he had to think. He hated half measures. +For a certain space he had to live on earth, and he wanted to discover +what life really was. What lay beyond the grave he did not know, +"sufficient for the day were the day's evil things." But he felt that he +must try and plumb the depth or shallowness of the day's interests. He +could not bear the idea of a contentment purchased by cowardice.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">[Pg 281]</a></span></p> + +<p>Yet he had learn from Tester that the soul is man's most sacred +possession, and must not be shown to the crowd; that he must always mask +his true emotions, except in the company of those who could understand +them.</p> + +<p>So he went down to breakfast telling Collins the latest joke from <i>The +London Mail</i>. On his way back to the studies he ran into a fag.</p> + +<p>"Caruthers, Chief wants to see you in his study."</p> + +<p>Gordon found the Chief waiting for him.</p> + +<p>"You are not busy, I hope, are you, Caruthers?"</p> + +<p>"Oh no, sir."</p> + +<p>"Well, at any rate, I shall keep you only for a minute. I just wanted to +speak to you for a second before you left. Everything is such a rush on +the last day. I suppose you have found that authority brings a good many +difficulties with it, and I have heard that you have had a row or two. +But I think you have done very well on the whole. I did not say very +much about it at the time, but about two years ago I had very grave +doubts about how you were going to turn out; I must say that I was very +nervous about making you a prefect. But, still, I think your last year +has really developed your character, and you certainly have had the +wisdom and luck, shall we say, like the host at the wedding, to keep +your best till last."</p> + +<p>The Chief smiled the smile that was peculiarly his own, and peculiarly +winning. "I must not keep you any longer. But I did want to take this +opportunity of telling you that I have been pleased with you this term, +though perhaps my praise sounds weak beside the applause you got after +your innings. At any rate, I wish you the very best of luck."</p> + +<p>With mixed feelings Gordon left the study. He valued the Chief's opinion +amazingly, but he could not help knowing that he did not deserve it. He +felt as though he had deceived the Chief. If only the Chief knew how he +had plunged along in his own way, an egotist, an iconoclast! And then +suddenly there came over him the shock of discovery, that everything in +life was so distorted and hidden by superficial coverings, that even the +wisest failed to discern between the true and the false.</p> + +<p>He was able to see himself as he was, to realise the littleness<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">[Pg 282]</a></span> of his +own performances. Yet the Chief who, if anyone "saw life steadily, and +saw it whole," who was always more ready to judge an action by the +intention than by the result—the Chief himself had not really seen how +far his achievements were below his possibilities. And if the Chief was +at times deceived by the superficial, how was he, a self-willed, +blundering boy, ever likely to be able to come to a true understanding?</p> + +<p>He shrugged. There still remained a few hours in which to enjoy the +fruits of a success which, if it meant little to him, conveyed a good +deal to the world outside. And power is very sweet.</p> + +<p>He tried to fling himself into the light-hearted atmosphere of rejoicing +in which the whole House was revelling, but he found it impossible. His +laughter was forced; yet his friends noticed no change in him; he was to +them just as he had always been.</p> + +<p>Even Morcombe, who was to him more than other friends, had failed to +understand.</p> + +<p>"It must be rather decent to be leaving in the way you are," he said, as +they were sitting in the games study before evening chapel. "I doubt if +you stopped on if you would ever quite equal the appropriateness of that +last innings."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Gordon, with a conscious irony, "it's certainly dramatic."</p> + +<p>What use was it to try and show him what he was thinking? He had learnt +that it is better to leave illusions untouched.</p> + +<p>Often in the past he had tried to imagine what a last chapel service +must be like. The subject has been done to death by the novelist. In +every school story he had read, the hero had always felt the same +emotions: contentment with work well done, sorrow at leaving a +well-loved place. He had wondered whether he would want to cry; and if +so, whether he would be able to stop it. He had looked inquiringly in +the faces of those who were leaving and had never read anything very +new. Some were enigmas; some looked glad in a way that they were going +to begin a life so full of possibilities. Some vaguely realised that +they had reached the height of their success at nineteen.</p> + +<p>But now that his time had come, his thoughts were very<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">[Pg 283]</a></span> different from +what he had imagined. He felt the sorrow that is inevitable to anyone +who is putting a stage of his life clean out of sight behind him; but +for all that he had come to the conclusion that he was not really sad at +leaving. Fernhurst was for him too full of ghosts; so many dreams were +buried there. His feelings were mixed. He felt himself that he had +failed, but he knew that he was hailed a success. He half wished that in +the light of experience he could go through his four years again; but if +he did, he saw that in outward show, at any rate, he could never eclipse +the glory that was his for the moment. He remembered that sermon over +three years back in which the Chief had asked each boy to imagine +himself passing his last hours at school. "<i>How will it feel,</i>" the +Chief had said, "<i>if you have to look back and think only of shattered +hopes and bright unfulfilled promises?... To the pathos of human sorrow +there is no need to add the pathos of failure.</i>" What was he to +think?—he whose career had so curiously mingled failure and success.</p> + +<p>The service slowly drew to its end. The final hymn was shouted by small +boys, happy at the thought of seven weeks' holiday. The organ boomed out +<i>God Save the King</i>; there was a moment's silence. Then the school +poured out into the cloisters. Gordon hardly realised his last service +was over. He had been so long a spectator of these partings that he +could not grasp the fact that he was himself a participator in them.</p> + +<p>He felt very tired, and was glad when bed-time came. He experienced the +same sensations that he had known as a new boy—a physical and mental +weariness that longed for the ending of the day.</p> + +<p>For a few hours silence hung round the ghostly Abbey; then, tremendous +in the east, Gordon's last whole day at Fernhurst dawned.</p> + +<p>As far as the Sixth were concerned, work was over. The rest of the +school had to go in for two hours for the rep. exam. The drowsy +atmosphere of a hot summer morning overhung everything. The studies were +very quiet. Gordon took a deck-chair on to the Sixth Form green and +settled down to read <i>Endymion</i>.</p> + +<p>But he found it impossible to concentrate his thoughts on<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">[Pg 284]</a></span> anything but +the riotous wave of introspection that was flooding his brain. He soon +gave up the attempt; and putting down the book, he lay back, his hands +behind his head, gazing at the great grey Abbey opposite him, while +through his brain ran Gilbert Cannan's words: "Life is round the +corner." He had failed. He knew he had failed. But where and why? Then, +as he began to question himself, suddenly he saw it all clearly. He had +failed because he had set out to gain only the things that the world +valued. He had sought power, and he had gained it; he had asked for +praise, and he had won it; he had fought, and he had conquered. But at +the moment of his triumph he had realised the vanity of all such +success; when he had come to probe it to the root, he had found it +shallow. For all the things that the world valued were shallow and +without depth, because the world never looked below the surface. He had +found no continuing city; his house was built upon sand.</p> + +<p>The truth flashed in on him; he knew now that as long as he was content +to take the world's view of anything, he was bound to meet with +disillusionment. He would have to sift everything in the sieve of his +own experience. The judgment of others would be of no avail. He would be +an iconoclast. The fact that the world said a thing was beautiful or +ugly, and had to be treated as such, must mean nothing to him. He would +search for himself, he would plumb the depths, if needs be, in search of +the true ideal which was lurking somewhere in the dark. Tester had been +right. It was useless to look back to the past for guidance. He had a +few hours back asked for some fixed standard by which to judge the false +from the true. There were no standards except a man's own experience. +Here at Fernhurst he had failed to find anything, because he had sought +for the wrong things; he had at once accepted the crowd's statement for +the truth. Now it would be different. In his haste he had said that +Fernhurst had taught him nothing. He had been wrong. It had taught him +what many took years to learn, and sometimes never learnt at all. It had +taught him to rely upon himself. In the future he would take his courage +in his hands, and work out his own salvation on the hard hill-road of +experience.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285">[Pg 285]</a></span></p> + +<p>The school was just pouring out from the rep. exam. He heard Foster +shouting across the courts.</p> + +<p>"Caruthers, you slacker, come up to the tuck-shop."</p> + +<p>"Right-o!" he yelled back; and racing across the green jumped the +railings, and went laughing up to the tuck-shop.</p> + +<p>"I say, Foster, let's have a big tea this afternoon. We had a supper for +the A-K side on Saturday. Let's have the rest up to-day."</p> + +<p>Gordon flushed with excitement at what lay before him. He wanted +everyone else to laugh with him too. An enormous tea was ordered. Men +from the outhouses came down, the tables were drawn up on the V. A +green, and the afternoon went by in a whirl of happiness. They rolled +out arm in arm for the prize-giving. For the last time Gordon saw the +whole staff sitting on "their dais serene." He looked at the row of +faces. There was Rogers puffed out with pride; Christy, pharisee and +humbug, superbly satisfied with himself. Finnemore sat in the +background, a pale grey shadow, that had been too weak to get to grips +with life at all. Trundle nursed his chin, twittering in a haze of +indecision. Ferrers was fidgeting about, impatient of delay. He, at any +rate, was not being misled by outside things; if he was misled by +anything, it was by the impulse of his own feverish temperament. He was +the splendid rebel leader of forlorn hopes, the survival of those</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"<i>Lonely antagonists of destiny</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>That went down scornful before many spears.</i>"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>There, again, was Macdonald, with the same benign smile that time could +not change. As he looked at him, Gordon thought that he at least could +not have been deceived, but had too kind, too wide a heart to +disillusion the young. And, above all, sat Buller, a second Garibaldi, +with a heart of gold, an indomitable energy, a splendid sincerity, the +most loyal of Fernhurst's sons. And as Gordon looked his last at his old +foe, he felt that "the Bull" was so essentially big, so strong, so noble +of heart, that it hardly mattered what he worshipped. There hung round +him no false trapping of the trickster; sincerity was the keynote of his +life. Gordon would search in vain, perhaps, for a brighter lodestar. As +two vessels that have journeyed a little way<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286">[Pg 286]</a></span> together down a river, on +taking their different courses at the ocean mouth, signal one another +"good luck," so Gordon from the depth of his heart wished "the Bull" +farewell and Godspeed.</p> + +<p>At last the form lists were read out. A titter rewarded Gordon's +position of <i>facile ultimus</i>. The cups were distributed. Gordon went up +for the batting cups, his own individual one, and the challenge one that +went to the House. Foster went up for the Senior cricket; it was a +veritable School House triumph. The Chief made his usual good-bye +speech, kindly, hopeful, encouraging. The head of the school shouted +"Three cheers for the masters!"—the gates swept open, the cloisters +were filled with hurrying feet.</p> + +<p>The last hours passed all too swiftly. In a far corner of the gallery +Gordon sat with Morgan, listening to his last school concert. Opposite +the choir in their white shirts, and brushed-back hair, sang the school +songs inseparable from the end of the school year. There was the summer +song, the "Godspeed to those that go," the poignant <i>Valete</i>:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"<i>We shall watch you here in our peaceful cloister</i>,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Faring onward, some to renown, to fortune</i>,<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Some to failure—none if your hearts are loyal—</i><br /></span> +<span class="i12"><i>None to dishonour.</i>"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>To Gordon every word brought back with it a flood of memories. He could +see himself, the small boy, reading those verses for the first time +before he went to Fernhurst, ignorant of what lay before him. How soon +he had changed his fresh innocency! How soon his bright gold had grown +dim! Then he saw himself this time last year, listening to those words +with an unbounded confidence, certain that he at least would never +achieve failure. Visions in the twilight! And what was the dawn to +bring?</p> + +<p>The Latin <i>Carmen</i> began. The school stood on their seats and howled it +out. Then came <i>Auld Lang Syne</i>. They clasped hands, swaying in chorus. +The echoes of <i>God Save the King</i> shook the timbered ceiling, someone +was shouting "Three cheers for the visitors!"; the school surged towards +the door; Gordon found his feet on the small<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287">[Pg 287]</a></span> stone stairway. He looked +back once at the warm lights; the honour-boards that would never bear +his name; the choir still in their places; the visitors putting on their +coats and wraps. Then the stream moved on; the picture faded out; and +from the courts came the noise of motors crunching on the gravel.</p> + +<p>As Gordon walked into the cool air he ran into Ferrers.</p> + +<p>"Good-bye, sir."</p> + +<p>"You are off, are you? Well, good luck. Write to me in the hols; I'll +look you up if I'm in town. If not, cheer-o!"</p> + +<p>He was gone in a second.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"<i>'So some time token the last of all our evenings</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Crowneth memorially the last of all our days ...'</i>"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Gordon murmured to himself as he walked slowly down to the dining +hall....</p> + +<p>The next morning there was the inevitable bustle, the tipping of the +servants, the good-byes, the promises to write at least twice during the +holidays, the promises which were never kept.</p> + +<p>"Here, Bamford, I say," shouted Gordon, "take my bag down to the +station."</p> + +<p>Bamford looked almost surly at being told to do anything on that last +day. "Authority forgets a dying king," thought Gordon. His power could +not have been so great if it began to wane almost before he had gone.</p> + +<p>The eight-forty came into the station, snorting and puffing.</p> + +<p>Gordon secured a corner seat, and leant out of the window, shaking hands +with everyone he could see.</p> + +<p>"You'll be down next term, won't you?" yelled Morgan, bursting as ever +with good will.</p> + +<p>"I expect so," said Gordon.</p> + +<p>But in his heart of hearts he knew that he would never come back. He +would be afraid lest he should find the glamour with which he had +surrounded the grey studies and green walks of Fernhurst merely a mist +of sentiment that would fade away. So many things that he had believed +in he had found untrue. But he wanted to keep<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288">[Pg 288]</a></span> fresh in his mind the +memory of Fernhurst as he had last seen it, beautiful and golden in the +morning sun.</p> + +<p>The train slowly steamed out. Hands were waved, handkerchiefs fluttered. +Slowly the Abbey turned from ochre-brown to blue, till it was hidden out +of sight.</p> + +<p>Gordon sank back into his seat. He was on the threshold of life; and he +stepped out into the sunlight with a smile, which, though it might be a +little cynical, as if he had been disillusioned, held none the less the +quiet confidence of a wayfarer who knew what lay before him, and felt +himself well equipped and fortified "for the long littleness of life."</p> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Loom of Youth, by Alec Waugh + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LOOM OF YOUTH *** + +***** This file should be named 18863-h.htm or 18863-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/1/8/8/6/18863/ + +Produced by Kathryn Lybarger, Josephine Paolucci and the +Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Loom of Youth + +Author: Alec Waugh + +Release Date: July 18, 2006 [EBook #18863] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LOOM OF YOUTH *** + + + + +Produced by Kathryn Lybarger, Josephine Paolucci and the +Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + + + + + +THE LOOM OF YOUTH + + + "Well, I mean there's Davenham now and--" + + "Davenham!" came the scornful retort. "What does it matter what + happens to Davenham? He's absolutely useless to the House, + rotten at games and spends his whole time reading about + fossils. Who cares a curse about Davenham!" + + "Oh I suppose you're right, but--" + + "My dear ass, of course I am right. Meredith is a simply + glorious fellow. Do you remember the way he brought down + Freeman in the Two Cock? Why, the House simply couldn't get on + without him." + + To Gordon all this conveyed very little. He had no idea who + Meredith or Davenham were. The only thing he realised was that + for those who wore a blue and gold ribbon laws ceased to exist. + It was apparently rather advantageous to get into the Fifteen. + He had not looked on athletics in that light before. Obviously + his preparatory school had failed singularly to keep level with + the times. He had always been told by the masters there that + games were only important for training the body. But at + Fernhurst they seemed the one thing that mattered. To the + athlete all things are forgiven. There was clearly a lot to + learn. + + + + "To him who desireth much, much is given; and to him who + desireth little, little is given; but to neither according to + the letter of his desire." + +GILBERT CANNAN + + + + +_The Loom of Youth_ + + +ALEC WAUGH + +Methuen + +First published in Great Britain 1917 +Reprinted July 1917, August 1917, September 1917 (twice) +November 1917, January 1918, March 1918, October 1918, +1919, 1921, 1930, 1933, 1945 +Cassell's Pocket Library, 1928 +Penguin Abridged Edition, 1942 +New edition reset and revised 1955 +Reprinted 1972 + +This edition published 1984 +by Methuen London Ltd +11 New Fetter Lane, London EC4P 4EE + +Copyright (c) Alec Waugh 1917 +ISBN 0 413 54970 4 (hardback) +ISBN 0 413 54980 1 (paperback) + +Printed and bound in Great Britain +by Richard Clay (The Chaucer Press) Ltd +Bungay, Suffolk + +This book is available in both a hardcover and paperback edition. The +paperback is solid subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of +trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out, or otherwise circulated +without the Publisher's prior consent in any form of binding or cover +other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition +including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser. + + * * * * * + +Transcriber's Note: Minor typos have been corrected in text. There is +one place where a subscript is used and is designated by an underscore +and curly brackets thus: H_{2}O. + + * * * * * + + + + +_Dedicatory Letter to Arthur Waugh_ + + +My Dear Father, + +This book, which I am bringing you, is a very small return for all you +have given me. In every mood, in every phase of my shifting pilgrimage, +I have found you ever the same--loving, sympathetic, wise. You have been +with me in my success, and in my happiness, in my failures and in my +disappointments, in the hours when I have followed wandering fires. +There has never yet come to me a moment when I did not know that I had +but to stretch out my hand to find you at my side. In return for so +much, this first book of mine is a very small offering. + +But yet I bring it to you, simply because it is my first. For whatever +altars I may have raised by the wayside, whatever ephemeral loyalties +may have swayed me, my one real lodestar has always been your love, and +sympathy, and guidance. And as in life it has always been to you first +that I have brought my troubles, my aims, my hopes, so in the world of +ideas it is to you that I would bring this, the first-born of my dreams. + +Accept it. For it carries with it the very real and very deep love of a +most grateful son. + +A.W. + + + + +CONTENTS + + +Preface _page_ 9 + + +BOOK I: WARP AND WOOF + +I Groping 15 + +II Finding his Feet 21 + +III The New Philosophy 31 + +IV New Faces 44 + +V Emerging 52 + +VI Clarke 62 + +VII When One is in Rome 69 + + +BOOK II: THE TANGLED SKEIN + +I Quantum Mutatus 79 + +II Healthy Philistinism 102 + +III Tin Gods 119 + +IV Through a Glass Darkly 130 + + +BOOK III: UNRAVELLING THE THREADS + +I Common Room Faces 134 + +II Carnival 169 + +III Broadening Outlook 179 + +IV Thirds 185 + +V Dual Personality 196 + +VI The Games Committee 200 + +VII Rebellion 208 + +VIII The Dawning of many Dreams 213 + + +BOOK IV: THE WEAVING + +I The Twilight of the Gods 226 + +II Setting Stars 239 + +III Romance 242 + +IV The Dawn of Nothing 249 + +V The Things that Seem 259 + +VI The Tapestry Completed 277 + + + + +PREFACE TO NEW EDITION + + +Books have their fates and this one's has been curious. I wrote it +between January and March 1916, when I was seventeen and a half years +old and in camp at Berkhamsted with the Inns of Court O.T.C. I loathed +it there, everything about it, the impersonal military machine, the +monotonous routine of drills and musketry, the endless foot-slogging, +the perpetual petty fault-finding. I kept comparing my present life with +that which I had been leading ten, eighteen, thirty months ago at +Sherborne, as a schoolboy. + +My four years there had been very happy. I was the kind of a boy who +gets the most out of a public school. I loved cricket and football and +was reasonably good at them. I was in the first XV and my last summer +headed the batting averages. My father had lit in me a love of poetry +and an interest in history and the classics. More often than not I went +into a class-room looking forward to the hour that lay ahead. I enjoyed +the whole competitive drama of school life--the cups and caps and form +promotions. As I marched as a cadet over Ashridge Park I remembered that +a year ago I had been bicycling down to the football field for a punt +about on Upper. As I listened to a lecture on the establishment of an +infantry brigade, I thought of the sixth form sitting under that fine +scholar and Wordsworthian Nowell Smith to a discussion of Victorian +poetry. In the evenings on my way to night operations, passing +Berkhamsted School and looking at the lighted windows, I would think, +"At Sherborne now they are sitting round the games study fire waiting +for the bell to ring for hall". Day by day, hour by hour, I pictured +myself back at school. + +I was in a nostalgic mood, but I was also in a rebellious mood. +Intensely though I had enjoyed my four years at Sherborne, I had been in +constant conflict with authority. That conflict, so it seemed to me, had +been in the main caused and determined by authority's inability or +refusal to recognise the true nature of school life. The Public School +system was venerated as a pillar of the British Empire and out of that +veneration had grown a myth of the ideal Public School boy--Kipling's +Brushwood Boy. In no sense had I incarnated such a myth and it had been +responsible, I felt, for half my troubles. I wanted to expose it. Those +moods of nostalgia and rebellion fused finally in an imperious need to +relive my school days on paper, to put it all down, term by term, +exactly as it had been, to explain, interpret, justify my point of view. + +I wrote the book in six and a half weeks, getting up at half past four +every morning and returning to my manuscript at night after the day's +parades. I posted it, section by section, to my father who corrected the +spelling and punctuation, interjected an occasional phrase and sent it +to be typed. I never revised it. As the manuscript shows, it was printed +as it was written, paragraph by paragraph. + +The book after two or three refusals was accepted by Grant Richards and +published in July 1917 in the same week that I was posted as a +machine-gun second-lieutenant to the B.E.F. in France. It could not have +come out under luckier auspices. It had an immediate news value. There +was a boom in soldier poets. Robert Graves, Siegfried Sassoon, Robert +Nichols, W.J. Turner had recently made their debuts. Here was a soldier +novelist, the first and in his teens. As always in war-time there was a +demand for books and there was that summer a dearth of novels. A spirit +of challenge and criticism was in the air. The war after three years was +still "bogged down" and public opinion attributed allied failings in the +field to mismanagement in high places. The rebelliousness of _The Loom +of Youth_ was in tune with the temper of the hour. Finally I had the +immense advantage of being the son of Arthur Waugh. My father as a +critic and a publisher was one of the most loved and respected figures +in the world of letters. Many were anxious to give his son a chance. + +The book had a flattering reception. Nothing of any particular interest +was being published at the moment and reviewers welcomed it. J.C. +Squire, Gerald Gould, Ralph Straus, C.K. Scott-Moncrieff, E.B. Osborn, +all made it their book of the week. Nor was it noticed only in the book +sections. Richards had suggested that Thomas Seccombe who was then +history professor at Sandhurst and had introduced the book to him, +should write a preface. That preface discussed the Public School system +in the light of contemporary events. The system, Seccombe wrote, "has +fairly helped, you may say, to get us out of the mess of August 1914. +Yes, but it contributed heavily to get us into it." The preface +encouraged and helped a journalist to use the book as the text for a +general article. Within a month it had received twenty-four columns of +reviews and was in its third impression. Grant Richards told my father +that with any luck he would sell five thousand copies. + +That was at the end of the August. Three weeks later the schools went +back and half the housemasters in the country found their desks littered +with letters from anxious parents demanding an assurance that their +Bobbie was not subject to the temptations described in this alarming +book. In self-defence the schoolmasters hit back and by mid-November the +book had become the centre of violent controversy. In many schools the +book was banned and several boys were caned for reading it. Canon Edward +Lyttleton, the ex-headmaster of Eton, wrote a ten-page article in _The +Contemporary_--then an influential monthly--explaining how biased and +partial a picture the school gave. _The Spectator_ ran for ten weeks and +_The Nation_ for six a correspondence filling three or four pages an +issue in which schoolmaster after schoolmaster asserted that whatever +might be true of "Fernhurst", at his school it was all very different. +Grant Richards adeptly fanned the conflagration. He had initiated that +summer an original style of advertising. He inserted each week in the +_Times Literary Supplement_ a half column of gossip about his books and +authors. It was set in small heavy black type, and caught the eye. +Richards was a good writer and it was very readable. He was, I think, +the first publisher to exploit the publicity value of unfavourable +comment. Richard Hughes, at that time in the sixth form at Charterhouse, +wrote, as his weekly essay, an attack on _The Loom of Youth_. His form +master, Dames Longworth, a fine old Tory, sent it up to _The Spectator_, +as a counterblast to such "pernicious stuff". Next week Grant Richards +quoted him. Mr Dames Longworth called the book "pernicious stuff", but +Clement Shorter prophesied in _The Sphere_ that it would prove "the +Uncle Tom's Cabin of the Public School system". By Christmas the book +was a best seller. + +A modern reader will wonder what all this fuss and indignation was +about. Two points are to be remembered. First that before World War I +Britain's imperial destiny was never questioned, and the Public School +system as a bulwark of Empire was held sacrosanct. Second that no book +before _The Loom of Youth_ had accepted as part of the fabric of School +life the inevitable emotional consequences of a monastic herding +together for eight months of the year of thirteen year old children and +eighteen year old adolescents. On that issue such a complete conspiracy +of silence had been maintained that when fathers were asked by their +wives, and schoolmasters by parents who had not themselves been at +public schools whether "such things really could take place", the only +defence was a grudging admission, "Perhaps in a bad house, in a bad +school, in a bad time." + +I followed the controversy with mixed feelings. I was delighted of +course at the book's success. At the same time I was distressed at being +accused of having libelled the school where I had been so happy, to +which I was so devoted, and to so many of whose masters--in particular +its headmaster--I owed so much. + +Well, that is all a long long time ago, and usually nothing is more dead +and dated than the book which once caused controversy. Yet _The Loom of +Youth_ has continued to sell steadily from one year to the next; in 1928 +it was included in Cassell's Pocket Library; in 1942 it was issued as a +Penguin and now that the original plates are wearing out, Mr Martin +Secker and the directors of The Richards Press feel that it is worth +their while to reset the type and give the book another lease of life. I +hope that their confidence will be justified. If it is, it will be for +reasons very different from those which made _The Loom of Youth_ a best +seller in 1917. The modern reader will find nothing here to shock or +startle him. Several years ago a friend was reading the book in my +company. "When do I reach _the_ scene?" he asked. I looked over his +shoulder. "You've passed it, ten pages back," I told him. At the same +time the book is not presented as a "period piece". Though England +to-day is a different country, socially and economically, from what it +was in 1911 when I went to Sherborne, I do not think that in essentials +the life of the Public School boy has greatly changed. Most schools are +larger than they were, but they have retained the same traditions and +ideals; there is the same atmosphere of rivalry and competing loyalties; +youth has the same basic problems, is fired by the same ambitions, beset +by the same doubts. And if the modern reader, after turning a page or +two finds his attention held and wants to go on reading, it will mean +that this book has become at last what in fact it was always meant to +be--a realistic but romantic story of healthy adolescence set against +the background of an average English Public School. + +April, 1954. + +Alec Waugh + + + + +BOOK I: WARP AND WOOF + + "While I lived I sought no wings, + Schemed no heaven, planned no hell; + But, content with little things, + Made an earth and it was well." + + RICHARD MIDDLETON. + + + + +CHAPTER I: GROPING + + +There comes some time an end to all things, to the good and to the bad. +And at last Gordon Caruthers' first day at school, which had so combined +excitement and depression as to make it unforgettable, ended also. +Seldom had he felt such a supreme happiness as when he stepped out at +Fernhurst station, and between his father and mother walked up the +broad, white road that led past the Eversham Hotel to the great grey +Abbey, that watches as a sentinel over the dreamy Wessex town. There are +few schools in England more surrounded with the glamour of mediaeval days +than Fernhurst. Founded in the eighth century by a Saxon saint, it was +the abode of monks till the Dissolution of the Monasteries. Then after a +short interregnum Edward VI endowed it and restored the old curriculum. +The buildings are unchanged. It is true that there have sprung up new +class-rooms round the court, and that opposite the cloisters a huge +yellow block of buildings has been erected which provides workshops and +laboratories, but the Abbey and the School House studies stand as they +stood seven hundred years ago. To a boy of any imagination, such a place +could not but waken a wonderful sense of the beautiful. And Gordon +gazing from the school gateway across to the grey ivy-clad studies was +taken for a few moments clean outside himself. The next few hours only +served to deepen this wonder and admiration. For Fernhurst is prodigal +of associations. The School House dining-hall is a magnificent +oak-panelled room, where generations of men have cut their names; and +above the ledge on which repose the silver challenge cups the house has +won, is a large statue of King Edward VI looking down on the row of +tables. When he first entered the hall, Gordon pitied those in other +houses immensely. It seemed to him that though in "the outhouses"--as +they were called at Fernhurst--the eugenic machinery might be more up to +date, and the method of lighting and heating far more satisfactory, yet +it could not be the same there as in the School House; and he never +quite freed himself of the illusion that, if the truth were known, every +outhouse boy rather regretted that he had not chosen otherwise. For +indeed the bloods of other houses are very often found sitting over the +fire in the School House games study. + +Until about six o'clock Gordon could not have been happier, his future +seemed so full of possibilities. But when his father and mother left him +to catch the afternoon train back to town, and the evening train brought +with it a swarm of boys in the most wonderful ties and socks, and all so +engrossed in their own affairs, and so indifferent to his, Gordon began +to feel very lonely. Supper was not till nine and he had three hours to +put in. Very disconsolately he wandered round the green slopes above the +town where was the town football ground and where in the summer term +those members of the Fifteen who despised cricket would enjoy their +quiet pipe and long for the rains of November. But that walk did not +take long, especially as he did not dare to go out of the sight of the +Abbey for fear of getting lost. When he returned to the House the court +was loud with shouts and laughter. Everyone had something to do. There +was the luggage to fetch from the day-room. The town porter, known +generally as Slimy Tim, was waiting to be tipped. Health certificates +had to be produced. There was a sporting chance of finding in Merriman's +second-hand bookshop--out of bounds during term-time--an English version +of Vergil and Xenophon. There were a hundred things to do for everyone +except Gordon. There were several other new boys, doubtless, to be found +among this unending stream of bowler hats. But he saw no way of +discovering them. He did, it is true, make one attempt. Very bravely he +walked up to a rather bored individual who was leaning against the door +that led into the studies and asked him if he was a new boy. His +reception was not friendly. The person in question was Sandham of the +Lower Sixth, who had been made a house prefect and was very conscious of +it, and who was also well aware of the fact that he was not very tall. +His friends called him "The Cockroach"; and Gordon was told politely to +go elsewhere. He did not, however, go where he was told, but sauntered +sadly down to the matron's room, only to find it full of people all with +some complaint. Some had lost their keys, others were furious that their +people should have been charged for biscuits and sultana cake that they +had never had, but the greater part were wanting to know why the old +bathroom had been turned into a study for the Chief's secretary, while +they had been given in exchange a lot of small zinc hip-baths. To the +smaller members of the House this change was rather popular. On the days +when there were only four baths among eighty, it did not matter very +much to them how large they were, if they were always occupied by the +bloods, while however small the new baths might be, there were +sufficient to go round. The bloods did not look on the matter in this +light. + +Gordon walked from room to room utterly miserable. Nobody took the +slightest notice of him, only one person asked his name, and that was a +small person of one term's standing who wanted to show that he was a +power in the land. At last, however, the old cracked bell rang out for +supper, and very thankfully he took his place among the new boys at the +bottom of the day-room table. Evening prayers in the School House had +once been rather a festive occasion, and a hymn chosen by the head of +the House was sung every night. It had been the custom to choose a hymn +with some topical allusion. For instance, on the evening when the House +tutor had given a hundred lines to every member of the day-room for +disturbing a masters' meeting, by playing cricket next door, they chose +_Fierce raged the Tempest o'er the Deep_; and on one occasion when an +unpopular prefect had been unexpectedly expelled the House was soothed +with the strains of _Peace, Perfect Peace_. But those days were over. A +new headmaster had come with an ear for music, and the riot of melody +that surged from the V. A table seemed to him not only blasphemous, but +also inartistic. And so hymn-singing stopped, and only a few prayers +were read instead. + +On this particular evening the Chief was in high spirits. It was +characteristic of his indomitable kindliness and optimism that, though +he ended every term in a state of exhaustion, having strained his energy +and endurance to the breaking-point, he invariably began the new term in +a spirit of geniality and hope. It was not till years later that Gordon +came to understand the depth of unselfish idealism that burned behind +the quiet modesty of the Chief; but even at first sight the least +impressionable boy was conscious of being under the influence of an +unusual personality. There was nothing of the theatrical pedagogue about +him; he surrounded himself with no trappings of a proud authority. His +voice was gentle and persuasive; his smile as winning almost as a +child's. The little speech with which he welcomed the House back, and a +passing allusion, half humorous, half appealing, to the changes in the +bath-rooms were perhaps too homely to impress the imagination of the +average inhuman boy. But they were the sincere expression of the man--an +idealist, with an unfailing faith in human nature, founded in an even +deeper faith in Christianity. + +When he had gone, Gordon ventured to look round at the sea of faces. On +a raised dais was the Sixth Form table. In the middle, haughty, +self-conscious, with sleepy-looking but watchful eyes, sat the captain +of the House, Lovelace major, in many ways the finest athlete Fernhurst +ever produced, who had already got his County cap and played "Rugger" +for Richmond. Gordon had seen him bat at Lord's for the Public Schools +_v._ M.C.C., and before he had come to Fernhurst, Lovelace had been the +hero of his imagination; ambition could hardly attain a higher pedestal. + +There were about twelve in all at the Sixth Form table, of whom the +majority were prefects; and no one could leave the hall till one of them +went out. After a few minutes' conversation, in which no one ate +anything, although plates of hot soup were busily provided, someone got +up and went out. Immediately there was a rush towards the door, and +Gordon was borne down the long winding passage to the foot of the +stairs that led to the dormitories. Here, however, for some reason, +everyone stopped and began to talk at the top of their voices. Gordon +saw no reason for the delay, but thought it better to follow the throng, +and waited. As a matter of fact, the last train up from town had just +come in. There are some who always demand the last ounce of flesh; there +are always those who return by the last possible train, although it +stops at every station on the way. Suddenly, however, the House tutor +shouted from the top of the stairs, "Lights out in the upper dormitories +by nine-thirty," and the procession moved upstairs. + +The upper dormitories in the School House were, like most other school +dormitories, a dismal spectacle. There was a long passage running down +from the House tutor's room, and on the left were doors leading into +long, bare rooms, with the usual red-quilted beds and the usual +wash-hand basins. On the right-hand side was the bathroom. The upper +dormitories were occupied by the smaller boys of the House. Once a +prefect had been put in charge over each room, but the system did not +work very well, and soon came to an abrupt end, so that there was only +the House tutor to keep them in order till the prefects went to bed in +the lower dormitories an hour later; and then any sound was promptly +dealt with. Gordon had been placed in the largest room, which was known +as "the nursery." It contained ten beds, and only four of its +inhabitants were of more than one term's standing. Among other less +enviable claims to fame, it had the reputation of being the finest +football-playing dormitory, and every night its members would race up +from supper to play their game before the House tutor came to put out +lights at nine-fifteen. The new boys took it in turns to keep "cave," +and it must be owned that for the first few weeks the sentinel rather +preferred the role of onlooker to that of player, and found it hard to +sympathise with those who were continually flinging abuse at the huge +football crowds at Stamford Bridge. This night there was, of course, +hardly any ragging. There was so much to talk about, and some faint +interest was even taken in the new boys, for two very important-looking +young people, Turner and Roberts, swaggered into the dormitories "just +to have a squint at the new kids," but after a casual inspection Turner +said in a lordly manner, "Good lord! what a crew," and the pair sought +better things elsewhere. Turner and Roberts were very insignificant +people during the daytime: they were little use at games, and even a +year's spasmodic cribbing had only managed to secure them a promotion +from the Second Form to the Third. But when the evening came they were +indeed great men, and ruled over a small dormitory that contained, +besides themselves, only four new boys who looked up to them as gods and +hung on their every word. + +But very soon the wanderings of these two gentlemen ceased, and at the +sound of the House tutor's tread down the passage they fled very +ingloriously to their own abode. Mr Parkinson, the House tutor, was one +of the most popular masters in the school. He had only just missed his +blue at Oxford, and since he had gone down had devoted all his energies +to training on the junior members of the House at football and cricket. +He was in rather a hurry this particular evening, as he had to make out +the list of studies, but he shook hands with everyone, and asked all the +new boys their names before turning out the lights, with instructions +not to kick up too much row. + +At last Gordon was at rest. For ten hours at least he would not have to +worry about anything. He lay back in bed contentedly and listened to the +conversation. As was natural, the talk was at first only about the +holidays, but it soon drifted round to school politics, and one Bradford +began to hold forth on the composition of the Fifteen, as if he was the +captain's bosom friend. To Gordon, of course, most of the names +mentioned signified nothing. He gathered that the great Lovelace was +going to be captain and was sure to have rows with Buller the games +master, but besides this he picked up very little. Gradually the +conversation turned on individuals, and especially on a certain +Meredith, who was apparently a double-first, with a reputation that did +not end on the cricket pitch. + +"You know I think Meredith goes a bit too far at times," came a voice +from the middle of the room. + +Bradford rose at once. "What the hell do you mean? Meredith go too far? +Why, he is a splendid wicket-keeper, and far and away the finest +half-back in the school. You must allow a good deal to a blood like +him." + +"Oh, I know he is a magnificent athlete and all that, but don't you +think he does rather a lot of harm in the House?" + +"Harm? Who to?" + +"Well, I mean there's Davenham now and----" + +"Davenham!" came the scornful retort. "What does it matter what happens +to Davenham? He's absolutely useless to the House, rotten at games and +spends his whole time reading about fossils. Who cares a curse about +Davenham!" + +"Oh, I suppose you are right, but----" + +"My dear ass, of course I am right. Meredith is a simply glorious +fellow. Do you remember the way he brought down Freeman in the Two Cock? +Why, the House simply couldn't get on without him." + +To Gordon all this conveyed very little. He had no idea who Meredith or +Davenham were. The only thing he realised was that for those who wore a +blue and gold ribbon laws ceased to exist. It was apparently rather +advantageous to get into the Fifteen. He had not looked on athletics in +that light before. Obviously his preparatory school had failed +singularly to keep level with the times. He had always been told by the +masters there that games were only important for training the body. But +at Fernhurst they seemed the one thing that mattered. To the athlete all +things are forgiven. There was clearly a lot to learn. + + + + +CHAPTER II: FINDING HIS FEET + + +The new boy's first week at a Public School is probably the most +wretched he will ever pass in his life. It is not that he is bullied. +Boots are not shied at him when he says his prayers; he is not tossed in +a blanket; it is merely that he is utterly lonely, is in constant fear +of making mistakes, is never certain of what may happen next, and so +makes for himself troubles that do not exist. And when Gordon wrote +home to his people at the end of his second day it did not need a very +clever mother to read between the lines and see that her son was +hopelessly miserable. + +His worries began at once. On the first day of term discipline is, of +course, very slack. There is only an hour's work, which is, for the most +part, spent in finding out what books are needed. There is no +preparation set for the evening, breakfast is at eight-thirty instead of +seven-forty-five, and it does not matter how late anyone comes in. And +so when, at eight o'clock, the School House butler, who had watched many +generations pass by with the same imperturbable smile, walked down the +dormitories ringing a horribly cracked bell, no one paid any attention. +There was tons of time. Ordinarily no one ever got up till the quarter, +and to-day--well, twenty past would be ample. A voice from the end of +the room muttered drowsily: "Damn that bell." But besides that nothing +happened. Gordon was fearfully perplexed. He had expected everyone to +leap out of bed, seize a towel and rush to the shower-bath, but no one +had moved. Could it be possible that they were still asleep and had not +heard the bell? It seemed incredible, but it might be so. And if it +were, ought he to wake them up? It seemed rather cheek for a new boy, +but then, supposing the whole dormitory were late. + +Greatly daring, he stretched out a hand and touched the arm of the boy +sleeping next him. The individual in question merely turned over +subconsciously and said something fierce. Gordon relapsed into a state +of terror. During the next quarter of an hour he passed through all the +miseries of an unknown fear. Only twenty-four hours ago he had been at +breakfast with his father and mother in his home at Hampstead. It seemed +years ago. Here he was face to face with horrible, unexplained things. +The suspense grew unbearable. He was sure he heard someone moving next +door; the others were getting up; he would be late his first day. What a +start! But just as he was visioning the most dire punishments, James, an +insignificant person of one term's standing, slowly pushed back the +bed-clothes, picked up a towel and lethargically moved towards the door. +Gordon jumped up, happy at last, and made for the huge new bathroom. It +had an iron floor, sloped so as to allow water to drain off easily, and +contained six small baths and showers fixed above them. The room was +practically empty. He was glad of this; he did not want to have a shower +with a lot of people looking on. The water was very cold--he was used to +a tepid bath; but by the time he had begun to dry, the place was full of +boys all shouting at once. No one is more loud or insistent than he who +has just ceased to be labelled new. He likes everyone to know how +important he is, how free and how unfettered by rules, and the best way +to this end is to shout and curse everything. The room was filled with +shouts of "Good God! are we expected to get clean in babies' tubs?" +"What a fool the Chief is." "Oh, damn your eyes, that's my towel." "No, +there's yours, you blasted idiot." Gordon was immensely shocked at the +language. He had come from a preparatory school run by a master with +strong views on swearing, and for that matter on everything. He had been +kept thoroughly in order. He got out of the bathroom as quickly as +possible and made for his dormitory. It did not take long to dress. +There was indeed very little time, and as the half-hour struck, he was +carried down in the throng to the dining-hall. + +Breakfast is always rather a scramble, and nowhere more so than at a +Public School. The usual Fernhurst breakfast lasted about ten minutes. +Hardly anyone spoke, only the ring of forks on plates was heard and an +occasional shout of "Tea" from the Sixth Form table. They alone could +shout at meals, the others had to catch the servant's eye. To-day, +however, there was a good deal of conversation. Those who had come by +the last train had not seen all their friends the night before. There +was much shaking of hands. In the middle a loud voice from the head of +the Sixth Form table shouted out: "Silence! I want to see all new boys +in my study at nine o'clock." It was Clarke, the head of the House, who +spoke. He was tall, with pince-nez, one of those brilliant scholars who +are too brilliant to get scholarships. He was a fanatic in many ways, a +militarist essentially, a firebrand always. There was bound to be +trouble during his reign. He could never let anything alone. He was a +great fighter. + +Gordon looked up with immense awe. Clarke looked so powerful, so +tremendous; even Lovelace himself was not much greater. He wondered +vaguely what would be said to them. + +And indeed Clarke was even more imposing in his own study. The back of +the room sloped down into a low alcove in which hung strange Egyptian +curtains. The walls were decorated with a few Pre-Raphaelite +photogravures. Behind the door was a pile of cases. Clarke sat with his +back to the window. + +"Now you are all quite new to school life," he began, "entirely ignorant +of its perils and dangers, and you are now making the only beginning you +can ever make. You start with clean, fresh reputations. I don't know how +long you will remain so, but you must remember that you are members of +the finest house in Fernhurst. Last year we had the two finest athletes, +Wincheston and Lovelace, who played cricket for Leicestershire, and is +now captain of the House. We had also the two finest scholars, Scott and +Pembroke, both of whom won scholarships. Now we can't all be county +cricketers, we can't all win scholarships, but we can all work to one +end with an unfailing energy. You will find prefects here who will beat +you if you play the ass. Well, I don't mind ragging much and it is no +disgrace to be caned for that. But it is a disgrace to be beaten for +slacking either at games or work. It shows that you are an unworthy +member of the House. Now I want all of you to try. Some of you will +perhaps never rise above playing on House games, or get higher than the +Upper Fifth. But if you can manage to set an example of keenness you +will have proved yourselves worthy of the School House, which is beyond +doubt _the_ House at Fernhurst. That's all I have got to say." + +That scene was in many ways the most vivid in Gordon's career. From that +moment he felt that he was no longer an individual, but a member of a +great community. And afterwards when old boys would run down Clarke, and +say how he had stirred up faction and rebellion, Gordon kept silent; he +knew that whatever mistakes the head of the House might have made, he +had the welfare of the House at heart and loved it with a blind, +unreasoning love that was completely misunderstood. + +It is inevitable that a new boy's first few days should be largely taken +up in making mistakes, and though it is easy to laugh about them +afterwards, at the time they are very real miseries. At Fernhurst, +things are not made easy for the new boy. Gordon found himself placed in +the Upper Fourth, under Fleming, a benevolent despot who was a master of +sarcasm and was so delighted at making a brilliant attack on some +stammering idiot that he quite forgot to punish him. "Young man, young +man," he would say, "people who forget their books are a confounded +nuisance, and I don't want confounded nuisances with me." Gordon got on +with him very well on the whole, as he had a sense of humour and always +laughed at his master's jokes. But he only did Latin and English in the +Fourth room, for the whole school was split up into sets, regardless of +forms, for sharing such less arduous labours as science, maths, French +and Greek. So that Gordon found himself suddenly appointed to Mr +Williams' Greek set No. V. with no idea of where to go. After much +wandering, he eventually found the Sixth Form room. He entered; someone +outside had told him to go in there. A long row of giants in stick-up +collars confronted him. The Chief sat on a chair reading a lecture on +the Maccabees. All eyes seemed turned on him. + +"Please, sir," he quavered out in trembling tones, "is this Mr Williams' +Greek set, middle school No. V?" + +There was a roar of laughter. Gordon fled. After about five more +minutes' ineffectual searching he ran into a certain Robertson in the +cloisters. Now Robertson played back for the Fifteen. + +"I say, are you one of the new boys for Williams' set?" + +"Yes." + +"Well, look here, he's setting us a paper, and I don't know much about +it, and I rather want to delay matters. So look here, hide yourself for +a few minutes. I am just going to find Meredith and have a chat." + +For ten minutes Gordon wandered disconsolately about the courts. When at +last Robertson returned with his protege the hour was well advanced, and +there would be no need for Robertson to have to waste his preparation +doing an imposition. + +On another occasion one of the elder members of his form told him to go +to "Bogus" for French. Now "Bogus" was short for the Bogus officer, and +was the unkind appellation of one Rogers. Tall, ascetic and superior, +with the air of a great philosopher, he had, like Richard Feverel's +uncle, Adrian Harley, "attained that felicitous point of wisdom from +which one sees all mankind to be fools." He was one of the happy few who +are really content; for in the corps as Officer Commanding he could +indulge continuously in his favourite pastime of hearing his own voice, +and as a clerk in orders the pulpit presented admirable opportunities +for long talks that brooked no interruptions. In the common room his +prolix anecdotes were not encouraged. But in the pulpit there was no +gainsaying him. His dual personality embodied the spirit of "the Church +Militant," a situation the humour of which the School did not fail to +grasp. But of all this Gordon, of course, knew nothing. After a long +search for this eminent divine, in perfect innocence he went up to a +master he saw crossing the courts. + +"Please, sir, can you tell me where Mr Bogus' class-room is?" He did not +understand till weeks afterwards why the master took such a long time to +answer, and seemed so hard put to it not to laugh. + +The story provided amusement in the common room for many days. Rogers +was not popular. + +It was in this atmosphere of utter loneliness and inability to do +anything right that Gordon's first week passed. Of the other new boys +none of them seemed to him very much in his line. There was Foster, +good-looking and attractive, but plausible and insincere. There was +Rudd, a scholar who had passed into the Fifth, spectacled, of sallow +appearance, and with a strange way of walking. Collins was not so bad, +but his mind ran on nothing but football and billiard championships. The +rest were nonentities, the set who drift through their six years, making +no mark, hurting no one, doing little good. Finally they pass out into +the world to swell the rout of civilised barbarians whom it "hurts to +think" and who write to the papers, talk a lot about nothing and then +die and are forgotten. The Public School system turns out many of these. +For it loves mediocrity, it likes to be accepted unquestioningly as was +the Old Testament. But times change. The Old Testament and the Public +School system are now both of them in the melting-pot of criticism. + +For the most part Gordon kept to himself. No one took any notice of him, +for he did nothing worthy of notice. He had rather looked forward to his +first game of football, for he had been quite a decent half-back at his +preparatory school. He might perhaps do something brilliant. But for his +first two days he wasn't allowed even to play a game. With the other new +boys he shivered in the autumn wind while Meredith, who rather +surprisingly seemed quite an ordinary sort of person, instructed them in +how to pack down. They were then told to watch the Upper game and see +how football should be played. It was here that Gordon first saw Buller, +the games master. He was indeed a splendid person. He wore a +double-breasted coat, that on anyone else would have looked ridiculous, +and even so was strikingly original. He had the strong face of one who +had fought every inch of his way. It was a great sight to see "the +Bull," as he was called, take a game; he rushed up and down the field +cursing and swearing. His voice thundered over the ground. It was the +first game after the summer holidays, and everyone felt rather flabby. +At half-time the great man burst out: "I have played football for +twenty-five years, I coached Oxford teams and Gloucestershire teams, led +an English scrum, and for fifteen years I have taught footer here, but +never saw I such a display! Shirking, the whole lot of you! Get your +shoulders down and shove. Never saw anything like it. Awful!" The Bull +said this to every team at least three times every season, but he was +every bit as generous with his praise as with his blame when things went +well, and he was a great man, a personality. Even a desultory Pick-Up +woke into excitement when the shrill, piping voice of a full-back came +in with, "'The Bull's' coming." There was only one man in Fernhurst who +was not afraid of him, and that was Lovelace, who was indeed afraid of +nothing, and who towered over his contemporaries by the splendour of his +athletic achievements, and the strength of an all-mastering +personality. + +On the next day Gordon had to watch another Upper game. This time "the +Bull" was more or less quiet. Lovelace was at the top of his form, and +Meredith twice cut through brilliantly and scored between the posts. +Then life seemed to Buller very good. After the game he rolled up to his +house perfectly satisfied, whistling to himself. It was not until the +Saturday that Gordon actually played in a game. He was originally +performing on the Pick-Up; but after a few minutes he was fetched to +fill a gap in a House game. He was shoved into the scrum, was perfectly +useless, and spent his whole time trying to escape notice. Only once he +got really near the ball. Just before half-time the ball was rolling +slowly towards him, the opposing full-back had failed to reach touch. +Gordon, steadying himself as at soccer, took a tremendous kick at the +ball, which screwed off his foot, and landed in the hands of the outside +three-quarter, who easily outpaced the defence and scored. + +"You bloody little fool," said someone. "For God's sake, no soccer +tricks here." + +Gordon did not attempt to repeat the performance. He was supremely +wretched, and merely longed for the day to end. No one understood him, +or even wanted to. His home became a very heaven to him during these +days. + +But sooner or later pain grows into a custom. The agonies of Prometheus +and Ixion must after a little while have ceased to cause anything more +than boredom. As soon as the mind is accustomed to what is before it, +there is an end of grief. It is the series of unexpected blows that +hurts. And so, Gordon after his first week found that life was not so +hard after all. He knew where his various class-rooms were: his +time-table was complete; he had slipped into the routine, and found that +there was a good deal of merriment for anyone with a sense of humour. + +Fleming was a constant source of amusement. One day Mansell, a member of +the School House Fifteen, had forgotten his book. The usual penalty for +forgetting a book was a hundred lines. Mansell had been posted on the +Lower ground. If he did well, he might be tried for the Second Fifteen. +The book must be got at all costs. + +"Please, sir, may I go and get a handkerchief?" + +"Yes, young man, and hurry up about it." + +After five minutes Mansell returns, blowing his nose vigorously in his +silk handkerchief of many colours, for Mansell is by way of being a nut. +The book is under his coat. He sits down. + +Fleming fixes him with a stony glare--a long pause. + +"Mansell, take that book from under your coat." + +Reluctantly the miscreant does so. The dream of a Second's cap vanishes. + +"Conjurer!" + +The roar of laughter was sufficient to make Fleming forget all about +impositions. But Mansell did not perform very well on the Lower ground, +and Gordon overheard Lovelace remarking to Meredith that Mansell was +really rather a come-down for a School House cap. + +But, whatever his football performances, Mansell was a continual source +of laughter. He and Gordon were in the same Greek set and studied under +Mr Claremont, a dry humorist, who had adopted schoolmastering for want +of something better to do, had apparently regretted it afterwards, and +developed into a cynic. + +Mansell was easily the most popular man and the worst scholar in the +set, in which there were nineteen in all. Each week Claremont read out +the order. Gordon was usually about half-way up. Mansell fluctuated; one +week he "bagged" the translation Clarke was using for scholarship work. +He was second that week. But Clarke discovered the theft. There was a +fall. Many names were read in the weekly order, but Mansell's was not of +them. At last Claremont reached him. + +"Greek Prose, Mansell 19th; Greek Translation, Mansell 19th; Combined +Order, Mansell 19th." A roar of laughter. "Well, Mansell, I don't think +that a titter from your companions is a sufficient reward for a week's +bad work." + +The immediate result of this was that Mansell, realising that without +some assistance, printed or otherwise, his chances of a good report were +small, got leave from Clarke to fetch Gordon from the day-room to his +study in hall to prepare the work together. Gordon at once thought +himself a tremendous blood. There were advantages, after all, in being +moderately clever. + +About this time another incident helped to bring Gordon a little more +before the public eye. There had been a match in the afternoon _v._ +Milton A. Lovelace, as happens to all athletes at times, had an off day. +He missed an easy drop, fumbled two passes, and when the School were +leading by one point just before time, failed to collar his man, and +Milton A won by two points. "The Bull" raged furiously. Lovelace took +hall that night. He sat at the top of the table in the day-room and +gazed about, seeking someone on whom to vent his wrath. There was a dead +silence. Gordon was writing hard at a Latin prose. He looked up for a +second while thinking of a word. + +"Caruthers, are you working?" Lovelace snapped out. + +"Yes." + +"You liar, you were looking out of the window, weren't you?" + +"Yes, but----" + +"I'll teach you to tell lies to me. Come and see me at nine o'clock." + +Very miserably Gordon continued his work. After about a quarter of an +hour: + +"Caruthers, will you take six, or a hundred lines?" + +Gordon thought it was not the thing to take lines: + +"Six." + +"Will you have it now or afterwards?" + +"Now." + +"Hunter, go and get a cane from my study." + +Trembling with fear, Gordon heard Hunter's feet ring down the stone +passage, saw him running across to the studies by the old wall. There +was silence again; then the sound of feet; Hunter returned. + +"Come out here, Caruthers." + +It hurt tremendously; he went back wishing he had taken the hundred +lines. But the others thought it amazingly brave of him. Lovelace minor, +handsome, debonair, a swashbuckler in the teeth of authority, came up +afterwards and said: + +"Damned plucky of you. My brother's a bit of an ass at times." + +It was not really plucky, it was merely the fear of doing the wrong +thing. But the House thought that, after all, there might be something +in at least one of those wretched new kids. One or two people looked at +him almost with interest that night in hall. + +That was Gordon's first step. Afterwards things were not so hard. +Mansell began to think him rather a sport, as well as an indispensable +aid to classical studies, and Mansell counted for something. Meredith +smiled at him one day.... A public School was not such a bad hole after +all. And his cup of happiness seemed almost running over when one +afternoon after a game of rugger he overheard Lovelace minor say to +Hunter: + +"That kid Caruthers wasn't half bad." + +For he saw that the sure way to popularity lay in success on the field; +and because it was the weak as the strong point of his character that he +longed with a wild longing for power and popularity, it was already his +ambition to be some day captain of the House, and to lead his side to +glorious victories. + + + + +CHAPTER III: THE NEW PHILOSOPHY + + +"Of course 'the Bull' may be a jolly fine fellow and all that, but he +does exceed the limit at times." + +Lovelace minor was speaking; it was the evening after the Dulbridge +Match. The school had been beaten by twenty-seven points to three, by a +much faster and heavier side. Meredith had been ill and could not play. +Lovelace major had sprained his ankle in the first half, and though he +had gone on playing was very little use. The match had all along been a +foregone conclusion. But "the Bull" had lost his temper entirely. + +Hunter, Mansell and Jeffries, a Colt, who ran a good chance of getting +his House cap the next term, were discussing the matter. Gordon, who had +come in to do Thucydides, was sitting in the background, a little shy +and very interested. + +"Is it true," said Jeffries, "that your brother threatened to resign the +captaincy if he did not keep quiet?" + +"Yes. By Jove, my brother let him have it. That's what 'the Bull' wants; +he wants a fellow who's not afraid of him to stand up against him. +Fernhurst has been run by him long enough. He is a splendid fellow; and +when he's sane I almost love him. But he has become an absolute tyrant. +Thank God, he can't ride roughshod over my brother." + +Mansell here broke in. Mansell was rather fond of summing up. + +"It's like this. 'The Bull's' a gorgeous fellow, he loves Fernhurst, he +wants to love everyone in it. But he does not understand our House. We +are not going to sweat ourselves to win some rotten Gym Cup or House +Fives; we haven't time for that. We are amateurs. We play the hardest +footer and the keenest cricket of all the houses, and that's where we +stop. He wants us to train every minute, go for runs in the afternoon, +do physical exercises before breakfast so as to become strong, +clean-living Englishmen, who love their bodies and have some respect for +their mind." (A roar of laughter. It was as though 'the Bull' were +speaking.) "Well, I don't care a damn myself for my body or mind. All I +know is that the House is going to get the Two Cock somehow, and that +for six weeks we'll train like Hades, and then, when we've got the cup, +we'll have a blind. We aren't pros who train the whole year round; we're +amateurs!" + +And Mansell was perhaps not far wrong. + +"I say, you know," says Hunter, who had a cheerful way of suddenly +flying off at a tangent, "talking of 'the Bull,' have you heard of the +row in his house?" + +Intense enthusiasm. Buller's was supposed to be "above suspicion." + +"Oh, well, old Bull came round the dormitories last night and heard +Peters and Fischer and some other lads talking the most arrant filth. He +gave them all six in pyjamas on the spot, and Fischer is not going to be +allowed to be house captain next year. Rather a jest, you know. Old Bull +thought because his house was always in wonderful training that the +spirit of innocence ruled over the place." + +"Well, he must be an ass then," said Mansell. "Why, look at Richmore, +and Parry; and even old Johnson has little respect for a bourgeois +morality." + +Mansell was rather pleased with the last phrase; he was not quite +certain what it meant. G.K. Chesterton used it somewhere, probably in +his apology for George IV. It sounded rather nice. + +"Well, it's obvious that a blood must be a bit of a rip; and Buller's is +merely an asylum for bloods!" + +This rather perplexed Gordon. He ventured a question rather timidly: +"But is it impossible for a blood to be a decent fellow?" + +"Decent fellow?" cried Jeffries. "Who on earth has said they were +anything else? Johnson's a simply glorious man. Only a bit fast; and +that doesn't matter much." + +In a farewell lecture, Gordon's preparatory school master had given him +to believe that it mattered a good deal, but he was doubtless +old-fashioned. Times were changed; Gordon had ceased to be shocked at +what he heard; he was learning what life was, and how strange and +beautiful and ugly it was. + +As the winter term drew to a close, Gordon grew more and more sure of +himself. He had passed by nearly all the other new boys. Foster, it is +true, had got on well according to his lights, and was on more than +friendly terms with Evans, the school slow bowler. But he was not much +liked by his equals. Rudd was looked on quite rightly as an absolute +buffoon; Collins got on fairly well, but was generally admitted to be a +bit eccentric. Gordon was, without doubt, the pick of the crew. His +position in form was a great help. Mansell's friends thought him a +cheerful, amusing and respectable-looking person, and were quite pleased +to have him about the place. Next term he was going to have a study with +Jeffries. The Chief thought he had got on rather too quick. But he was +usually among the first three in his form, and there was nothing +definite to find fault with, and, after all, his friends were excellent +fellows. There was nothing against them. Jeffries was genially selfish, +always ready for a rag, a keen footballer, and had, like most other +Public School boys, adopted a convenient broadmindedness with regard to +cribbing and other matters. + +"If the master is such an arrant ass as to let you crib, it is his own +lookout; and, after all, we take the sporting chance." + +Lovelace minor was rather a different sort of person. Very excitable, he +despised and deceived most of the masters; among his friends he was +unimpeachably loyal. He loved games, but never took them sufficiently +seriously to please "the Bull." He played for his own pleasure, not "the +Bull's." He was a splendid companion. + +Hunter was rather a nonentity; his chief attraction was that he usually +had the last bit of scandal at his finger-tips; he was safe to be +consulted on any point of school politics. It was his boast that he had +sufficient evidence to expel half the Fifteen and the whole Eleven. + +At this time Gordon found school life inexpressibly joyful. There were +minor troubles, but they were few. The only thing that really worried +him was Corps Parade. This infliction occurred once every week, and for +two hours Gordon passed through hell. He was in a recruits' section +under a man from Rogers' house, who was a typical product of his house. +He was oily, yellow and unpleasant to look upon. He also loathed Gordon. +There was a feud between the men from Rogers' and the School House. + +Rogers was the captain in command of the corps. To Gordon he seemed +exactly like what Cicero must have been, loud, contentious, smashing +down pasteboard castles with a terrific din. He was amazingly arrogant +and conceited. In the pulpit and on the parade ground he was in his +element. The School House had for years been notorious for their +slackness on parade. In drill and musketry competitions they had +invariably come out bottom, and Rogers hated them for it. It was indeed +a great sight to see the School House half company at work. Everyone was +fed to death, and took no pains to hide the fact. Once Rogers had said +to the House colour-sergeant: + +"Phillips, form up your men facing right." + +Phillips looked round at them, thought for a second or two and then +drawled: "Look here, you fellows, shove round there." And the subsequent +sarcastic comment was quite lost on him. He was a good forward, but not +too clever. He was proof against epigram. + +It was truly a noble sight to see Lovelace minor come on parade. Every +week exactly two seconds late, in the dead silence that followed the +sergeant-major's thundered "Parade!" he would dash through the school +gate, puffing and blowing, his drum knocking against his equipment, his +hat crooked, half his buttons undone. He would barge through two +sections, rush to the School House half-company, bang his rifle on the +ground, and say to his companion in a stage whisper: "I wasn't noticed, +was I?" + +But these were only incidents. As a whole everything connected with the +corps was "a hell upon earth." Field days consisted of a long march, a +sublime mix-up, a speech from Rogers, a bad tea, then a long march home. +No one knew what was happening; no one cared. It was a sheer waste of +time. Only Rogers really enjoyed himself. + +Then suddenly it occurred to Clarke that such a state of affairs was a +disgrace to the House. He had just been made a colour-sergeant, and +determined to wake things up. He made a long speech to the House, +pointing out the necessity for National Service, the importance of +militarism, and its effect on citizenship. He finished by a patriotic +outburst, telling them that they were wearing the King's uniform, and +that it must be kept clean, with the brass badges polished. The House +was mildly interested; its attitude was summed up in Turner's remark: + +"The King's uniform will have to go buttonless as far as I am concerned. +Damned if I'll waste twopence to buy a rotten bone button." + +On the next parade, however, Clarke inspected the company. Half the +House had to call him the next morning, dressed properly, at seven +o'clock. That would mean getting up at six-thirty. General +consternation. + +"It's a crying scandal," said Lovelace minor. "If I had not been +reported for slacking at French I'd jolly well go and complain to the +Chief. How can anyone play football without proper sleep?" + +Gordon laughed from the depths of his arm-chair. There were advantages +in being a recruit, even if one was ordered about by a man in Rogers' +who didn't wash. Hunter and Jeffries raged furiously; they swore that +they would not turn up. "Who is Clarke, damn his eyes, to take on the +privileges of a brigadier-general? It's a House tradition that no one +tries at parade." + +Overnight Hunter was very full of rebellion; but seven o'clock saw him +in shining brass, meekly standing before Clarke, who examined them from +his bed with an electric torch. But Jeffries cut; he was ever "agin the +government." He got six. His tunic was clean next week. The House +growled and cursed inwardly, but its appearance on parade was very +different. Clarke was a man. + +There is nothing so self-satisfying as to watch trouble from a safe +distance. Gordon was thoroughly happy. Mansell cursed heavily every +Monday night before the Tuesday parade. Clarke became to the House what +Cromwell was to Ireland; even the feeble Davenham thought it was a bit +thick. But Gordon was a recruit, and such things did not worry him. Life +was just then amazingly exciting. He was developing into quite a useful +forward. Mansell said he was certain for a place in the House Thirds +side. He was high up in form, and there was a good chance of his getting +a prize, but what perhaps counted more than anything else was the fact +that he was getting a position in the House. Prefects had ceased to ask +him what his name was. He was no longer a nonentity; he was looked on as +a coming man. + +As the term wore on, the thought of exams. brought to Gordon only a +feeling of excitement. There was little likelihood of disaster; there +was the certainty of a good struggle for the first place between himself +and one Walford, a dull though industrious outhouse individual. But to +some of his friends exams. seemed as the day of reckoning. Lovelace +minor was frankly at his wits' end. He had slacked most abominably the +whole term. He had prepared none of his books, and his next-door +neighbour had supplied him with all necessary information. Now the news +was about that IV. B was going to sit with the Sixth Form for exams. +Terror reigned. There could be no cribbing under the Chief's nose. +Jeffries was in the same plight; but he was a philosopher. "If I get +bottled in every paper," he said, "it will only mean about two hours' +work on each subject. But if I am going to know enough to avoid being +bottled, it will mean a good eight hours' work at each subject: six +hours wasted on each. In these times of bustle it can't be done. +Caruthers, pass me that red-backed novel on the second shelf!" + +Lovelace, however, was perturbed, and set out to prepare himself for the +ordeal. But his was a temperament that forbade application on any +subject other than horse racing. Every night he paced up and down the +study passages getting hints first from one person then another, and +always staying for a talk. By the end of preparation the result was +always the same--nothing done; and he and Jeffries both spent the last +Saturday in exactly the same way. + +But with Mansell it was different. If he got a promotion his pater had +promised him a motor bike. At first sight this seemed impossible. Hunter +in fact laid a hundred to one against his chances. But for once Mansell +really tried at something besides games. For two halls he worked solidly +from seven till ten, preparing small slips of paper that contained all +the notes he could find in Gordon's notebook, and that could fit +conveniently into the back of a watch. Everything was in his favour. +Claremont was taking exams. The first paper was Old Testament history. +Mansell looked at his watch repeatedly; but suddenly he came to an +unexpected question. He endeavoured to extract an answer from the man on +his right. + +Claremont spotted him. + +"Well, Mansell, if I ask you if you are cribbing, I know you will deny +it, and I don't want you to tell me a lie; but I must beg of you not to +talk quite so loudly." + +Any ordinary master would have torn up the boy's paper. But Claremont +was getting old. + +At any rate for the rest of the exams. Mansell relied entirely on his +notes. The Greek translation paper, however, was more than he could do. +Promotion did not count on a set subject, but only on English and Latin; +so Greek had gone by the board. After writing the most amazing nonsense +for two hours, Mansell decided that it was wiser not to enter into +competition at all with those low tricksters who had prepared their +work. He showed up no papers at all. + +Next day Claremont corrected the papers. + +"Well, Mansell, I can't find your paper anywhere." + +"I showed it up, sir." + +"Well, I am sure I don't know where it is. You had better go and find Mr +Douglas, and ask him if he knows anything about it." + +Mr Douglas was the mathematical master, to whom all marks were sent. He +added them up, and made out the orders. + +After an unnecessarily long interval Mansell returned. + +"I am sorry, sir; Mr Douglas has not seen them." + +"Well, I suppose it must be all my fault. I shall have to give you an +average on your papers, which, strange to say, have been, for you, +remarkably good." + +Mansell was averaged sixth for the paper. A real good bluff gives more +pleasure than all the honest exercises of one's life put together. + +There was laughter in No. 16 Study that evening. A few weeks ago Gordon +would have been horrified at such a thing; but now it seemed a splendid +jest. He would not have cribbed himself. He preferred to beat a man with +his own brains, though Mansell would have protested that it was a +greater effort to pit one's brains against a master long trained in +spotting tricks than against some dull-headed scholar. The Public School +system, at any rate, teaches its sons the art of framing very ingenious +theories with which to defend their faults; a negative virtue, perhaps, +but none the less an achievement. + +The last days of term were now drawing in. The House supper was only a +few days off and the holidays very close. Everyone was glad on the whole +to have finished the Christmas term, which is invariably the worst of +the three. And this year it had not been improved by Clarke's military +activities and the feeling of unrest that overhung the doings of the +Fifteen, because of Lovelace major's never-ending broils with "the +Bull." Two strong men both wanted their own way. On the whole, honours +were even, though, if anything, slightly in Lovelace's favour, since he +had filled up the scrum with a School House forward and a member of +Benson's, a small and rather insignificant House, instead of giving the +colours to men in Buller's. + +But next term there would be fewer rows. There would be house matches, +and each house captain would run things in his own house as he wished. +The school captain did little except post up which grounds each house +was to occupy. The School House always longed for the Easter term. It +was their chance of showing the rest of the school what they were made +of. As they were slightly bigger than any other house, they claimed the +honour of playing the three best of the outhouses in the great Three +Cock House Match for the Senior Challenge Cup. This year, with Lovelace +and Meredith, a School House victory was looked on as almost certain. +Besides this big event there were the Two Cock and Thirds House Match. +In the "Thirds" the School House under sixteen house side played against +the two best of the outhouses under sixteen sides, for the Thirds +Challenge Cup. And in the Two Cock, the second House Fifteen--that is, +the House Fifteen minus those with first and second Fifteen +colours--played the two best of the outhouse second Fifteens for the +Junior Challenge Cup. The results of these last two matches were very +much on the knees of the gods. The House stood a fair chance, but the +general opinion was that Buller's would win the Thirds; and Christy's, a +house that was full of average players who were too slack to get their +seconds, would pull off the Two Cock. At any rate, there would be no +lack of excitement. There was always far more keenness shown about house +matches than school matches, a fact which worried Buller immensely. He +thought everything should be secondary to the interests of Fernhurst. + +On the last Saturday of the term there was the House Supper. It was a +noble affair. The bloods wore evening dress; even the untidiest junior +oiled his hair and put on a clean collar. At the Sixth Form table sat +the Chief, some guests, Lovelace, Clarke, and a certain Ferguson, who +edited _The Fernhurst School Magazine_, and was to propose the health of +the old boys, of whom about twenty had come down, several having helped +to defeat the school by twenty points to sixteen in the afternoon. Never +had so much food been seen before. Turner had boasted that he always +went into training a week before the event, so as to enjoy it more. But +the real triumph was the hot punch. As soon as dessert had begun the old +boys trooped out, and brought in a huge steaming bowl of punch, from +which they filled all the glasses. Gordon did not like it much. It +seemed very hot and strong. But everyone else seemed to. Jeffries got a +little excited. + +Then speeches followed. The Chief proposed the fortune of the House, +Clarke answered him. There was the usual applause and clapping. But the +real event was Lovelace's speech. It had been a year of great success. +The Three Cock had been lost by only a very small margin. The Two Cock +had been won in a walk-over, and the Thirds by two points. The Senior +Cricket and the Sports Cup had also been won. It was very nearly a +record year. Lovelace was received with terrific applause; he +congratulated the House on its performance; he mentioned individual +names; each was the signal for a roar of cheering; and then, at the end, +he said: + +"And now I have a message to the House from the old boys. Let us have +the Three Cock Cup back again on the School House sideboard. It is the +place where it should be, and that's the place where we are going to put +it! Gentlemen, The Three Cock!" + +Amid a deafening noise the toast was drunk, and a voice from the back +yelled out: "Three cheers for Lovelace!" His health, too, was drunk, and +they sang _For he's a Jolly Good Fellow_. + +After this all else seemed tame. Ferguson made a speech that was meant +to be very funny, but rather missed fire. He had read _Dorian Gray_ the +whole of the evening before, underlining appropriate aphorisms. But to +the average boy Oscar Wilde is (rather luckily perhaps) a little too +advanced. The evening finished with _Auld Lang Syne_. Everyone stood on +the table and roared himself hoarse. The score in damage was twenty +plates broken beyond repair, sixteen punch glasses in fragments, +fourteen cracked plates, two broken gas mantles. When the revellers had +departed the hall looked rather gloomy, as probably Nero's did when his +guests fled after the murder of Britannicus. + +Next morning there was early service for communicants. But the School +House was entirely pagan. Hardly a man went. On Sunday there was a great +feed in Study 16. Somehow or other ten people got packed into as many +square feet of room. Gordon was there; and Mansell, of course; Collins +came to act as general clown; Fitzroy, a small friend of Jeffries, sat +in a far corner looking rather uncomfortable. Spence, Carey and Tiddy +made up the number; the last were quite the ordinary Public School type, +their conversation ran entirely on games, scandal and the work they had +not done. Lovelace was mildly bored. + +"It's pretty fair rot, you know. Here have I been fair sweating away at +the exams, every minute of my time, and Jeffries, who has not done a +stroke, is above me." + +Jeffries was bottom but one. + +"Oh, rotten luck," said Mansell. "You should do like me. Old fool +Claremont said I had done damned well!" + +"He hardly put it that way," came from Gordon; "but I believe Mansell +has managed more or less to deceive the examiners." + +"Oh, I say, that's a bit thick, you know," said Mansell. "Oh, damn, who +is that at the door?" + +There was a feeble knock. "Come in!" shouted at least six voices +simultaneously. + +Davenham came in looking rather frightened. + +"I'm sorry.... Is Caruthers in here?" + +"Yes, young fellow, he is." + +"Oh, Caruthers, Meredith wants you!" + +"Damn him," said Gordon. "What a nuisance these prefects are." + +Very unwillingly he got up and strolled upstairs. + +He was away rather a long time. After twenty minutes' absence he +returned rather moodily. + +"Hullo, at last; you've been the hell of a long time," said Hunter. +"What did he want?" + +"Oh, nothing; only something about my boxing subscription." + +"Well, he took long enough about it, I must say. Was that all?" + +"Of course. Cake, please, Fitzroy!" + +The subject was dropped. + +But just before chapel Jeffries ran into Gordon in the cloister. + +"Look here, Caruthers, what did Meredith really want you for? I swear I +won't tell anyone." + +"Oh, well, I don't mind you knowing.... You know what Meredith is, +well--I mean--oh, you know, the usual stuff. He wanted me to meet him +out for a walk to-morrow. I told him in polite language to go to the +'devil.'" + +"Good Lord, did you really? But why? If Meredith gets fed up with you he +could give you the hell of a time." + +"Oh, I know he could, but he wouldn't over a thing like that. Damn it +all, the man is a gentleman." + +"Of course he is, but all the same he is a blood, and it pays to keep on +good terms with them." + +"Oh, I don't know; it's risky--and well, I think the whole idea is +damned silly nonsense." + +Jeffries looked at him rather curiously. + +"Yes," he said, "I suppose that is how the small boy always looks at +it." + +It was only for an hour or so, however, that Gordon let this affair +worry him. The holidays were only forty-eight hours off and he was +longing to hear the results of the exams., and to know whether he had a +prize. + +Prize-giving was always held at five o'clock on the last Monday. And the +afternoon dragged by very slowly. Mansell assumed a cheerful +indifference. He thought his motor bike fairly certain. Rumour had it +there were going to be at least twelve promotions into the Lower Fifth. +Jeffries and Lovelace had also nothing to worry about; there was little +doubt as to their positions. Hunter specialised in chemistry, and had +done no examination papers. But for Gordon the suspense was intolerable. +He could find nothing to do; he climbed up the Abbey tower, and wrote +his name on the big hand of the clock; he roped up his playbox, tipped +the school porter; and still there was an hour and a half to put in. +Disconsolately he wandered down town. He strolled into Gisson's, the +school book-seller's: it contained nothing but the Home University +Library series and numerous Everymans. It was just like his first day +over again. But at last five o'clock came, and he sat with his four +friends at the back of the big schoolroom. He grew more and more tired +of hearing the lists of the Second and Third Forms read out. What +interest did he take in the doings of Pappenheim and Guttridge tertius? +IV. A was reached at length. The list was read from the bottom. + +Not placed--Hunter. + +Slowly the names were read out; the single figures were now reached: + +Mansell--term's work, eighteen. Exams., one. Combined order, four. + +This difference of position caused a titter to run round among those of +the School House who knew the cause of it. The third name and then the +second was reached: + +Caruthers--Term's work, one. Exams., three. Combined order, one. + +Term's Prize--Caruthers. Exams.--Mansell. + +The latter's performance was the signal for an uproarious outburst of +applause, in which laughter played a large part. There was still more +merriment when it was discovered that he had got as a prize _Sartor +Resartus_. As he crudely put it: "What the bloody hell does it mean?" +Gordon got the _Indian Mutiny_, by Malleson. Both books now repose, as +do most prizes, in the owners' book-cases, unread. + +"Congrats, Mansell, old fellow," yelled Lovelace minor, as the school +poured out at the end of the prize-giving. "Glorious! What a School +House triumph." + +"Yes, you know," said Mansell. "But it doesn't seem quite fair, and I am +damned if I want this book. It looks the most utter rot. I say, shall I +give it to that little kid in Buller's, I forget his name, who was +second? He looks a bit upset. Shall I, I say?" + +"Don't be a silly fool, Mansell," said Lovelace major, who happened to +overhear the conversation. "You've just got the only prize you're ever +likely to get for work; stick on to it." + +The rest of the day was pure, unalloyed joy to Gordon. He rushed off +after tea to wire the news home; then he sat in the gallery and listened +to the concert. He had expected to enjoy it rather; but the seats were +uncomfortable, the music too classical, and he soon stopped paying any +attention to the choir, and began a long argument with Collins as to the +composition of the Two Cock scrum. + +The next morning as the train steamed out of Fernhurst, and he lay back +in the carriage smoking a cigarette, outwardly with the air of a +connoisseur, inwardly with the timid nervousness of a novice, he +reflected that, in spite of the Rev. Rogers, school was a pretty decent +sort of place. + + + + +CHAPTER IV: NEW FACES + + +"I say, it _is_ true; Lovelace major has left." + +"Good Lord, no; is it?" + +"He's not on the House list?" + +"I heard he'd passed into the army at last." + +"I wonder who he was sitting next." + +"And we shall have that silly ass Armour captain of the House." + +"Ye gods!" + +A small crowd had gathered in front of the studies on the first night of +the Easter term. Consternation reigned. The almost impossible had +happened. Lovelace major had passed into Sandhurst at his fifth attempt, +and Armour would take his place as house captain. It was a disaster. +Armour was doubtless a most worthy fellow, a thoroughly honest, +hard-working forward. But he had no personality. When he passed by, fags +did not suddenly stop talking, as they did when Clarke or Meredith +rolled past them. The term before, he had not even been a house prefect. +The Three Cock, which had once seemed such a certainty, now became a +forlorn hope. + +"It's rotten," said Lovelace minor that night in the dormitory. "My +brother didn't think he had the very ghost of a chance of passing. He'd +mucked it up four times running, only the silly ass had done both the +unseens with "the Bull" the week before, and he was too damned slack to +alter them, and write them down wrong. He always was an ass, my +brother." + +Everyone was sorry. Even "the Bull" regarded him with a sort of +indulgent sentimentality. He never saw very much good in a School House +captain as long as he was there; but as soon as he left, all his faults +were forgotten and virtues that he had never possessed were flung at him +in profusion. The result was that "the Bull" said to the School House +captain of each generation: "I have had more trouble with you than any +Fernhurst boy I have ever met. You can't see beyond the length of your +own dining-hall. See big. See the importance of Fernhurst, and the +insignificance of yourself." + +But no one was more sorry than Armour. He did not want responsibility; +he had not sought for it. He wished to have fought in the School House +battles as a private, not as an officer. He loved the House, and longed +for its success, and trembled to think that he might ruin its chances by +a weak and vacillating captaincy. Moreover, he felt that he had no one +to back him up. Meredith, Robey and Simonds, the other members of the +First Fifteen in the House, were all grousing and wondering how large a +score the outhouses would run up in the Three Cock. No one placed any +confidence in his abilities. He was entirely alone. + +The next day was pouring wet; the ground was under water. Most house +captains would have sent their houses for a run. But Armour wanted to +make his start as early as possible. He couldn't bear to delay. That +afternoon the probable Thirds side played against the rest of the House, +with the exception of the Second colours. Armour had never felt so +nervous before; it was actually the first time he had refereed on a +game. Jeffries was captain of the Thirds, and kicked off. It was, of +course, a scrappy game. On such a day good football was impossible. The +outsides hardly touched the ball once. But the forwards, covered in mud +from head to foot, had their full share of work. Jeffries was +ubiquitous; he led the "grovel" (as the scrum was called at Fernhurst), +and kept it together. Gordon had very little chance of distinguishing +himself; but he did one or two dribbles, and managed to collar Mansell +the only time he looked like getting away. Lovelace minor, who played +fly-half, had nothing to do except stop forward rushes, was kicked all +over his body, got very cold and never had a chance once. He was +utterly miserable the whole hour. All this was in favour of Armour. He +knew nothing about three-quarter work, but he had played forward ever +since he had gone to the Fernhurst preparatory at ten years of age, and +could always spot the worker and the slacker, which Lovelace major never +could. On the whole, taking a house game was not so terrifying after +all; by half-time he had forgotten his nervousness in his excitement at +watching how his side was going to shape. + +"You know, I don't think Armour so rotten as people said he would be," +said Gordon, as they came up after the game. "I thought he was all +right." + +"Oh yes, he's not so bad; but he does not seem much when you shove him +next to Lovelace major." + +"Well, you know," said Jeffries, "he does know something about forward +play, which I am damned if Lovelace did." + +"Perhaps so; but all the same Lovelace was the man to win matches." +Mansell was an outside, and loved dash and brilliance, but the forwards +were not sorry to have someone in command who understood them. Armour +had begun well. + + * * * * * + +There are still people who will maintain that the ideal schoolboy in +school hours thinks only about Vergil and Sophocles, and in the field +concentrates entirely on drop kicks and yorkers. But that boy does not +exist; and in the Easter term it is impossible to think of anything but +house matches. Those who were in the power of some form martinet had a +terrible time this term. But Gordon and Mansell found themselves safely +at rest in Claremont's form and Greek set, and made up their minds just +to stay there and do only enough work to avoid being bottled. + +For the Lower Fifth was certainly the refuge of many weather-beaten +mariners. Pat Johnstone had laboriously worked up from the bottom form, +led on only by the hope that one day he would reach V. B, and there +repose at the back of the room, living his last terms in peace. Ruddock +had once set out with high hopes of reaching the Sixth; his first term +he had won a Divinity prize in the Shell. But under Claremont he had +discovered the truth, learnt long ago in the land of Lotus Eaters, "that +slumber is more sweet than toil!" The back benches of that room were +strewn with shattered hopes. Small intelligent scholars came up and +passed by on their way to Balliol Scholarships; but the faces at the +back of the room remained terribly somnolent and happy. A certain +Banbury had been there for three years and had earned the nickname of +"old Father Time," and Mansell, too, swore he would enrol himself with +the Lost Legion, while even Gordon said that nothing would shift him +from there for at least a year. + +Claremont had many strange ideas, the most striking of which was the +belief that boys felt a passionate love for poetry. The average boy has +probably read all the poetry he will ever read terms before he ever +reaches the Fifth Form. By the time he is in Shell he has learnt to +appreciate Kipling, the more choice bits of _Don Juan_ and a few +plain-spoken passages in Shakespeare. If English Literature were taught +differently, if he were led by stages from Macaulay to Scott, from Byron +to Rossetti, he might perhaps appreciate the splendid heritage of song, +but as it is, swung straight from _If_ to the _Ode to the Nightingale_ +he finds the "shy beauty" of Keats most unutterable nonsense. Claremont, +however, thought otherwise, and ran his form accordingly. In repetition +this was especially noticeable. Kennedy, a small boy with glasses, who +was always word-perfect, would nervously mumble through Henry V's speech +(they always learnt Shakespeare) in an accurate but totally uninspired +way. Mansell would stand at the back of the form and blunder out blank +verse, much of which was his own, and little of which was Shakespeare, +but which certainly sounded most impressive. + +"Well, Kennedy," Claremont would say, "you certainly know your words +very well, but I can't bear the way you say them. Five out of twenty. +Mansell, you evidently have made little attempt to learn your repetition +at all, but I love your fervour. One so rarely finds anyone really +affected by the passion of poetry. Fifteen out of twenty." + +During his two years in the Lower Fifth Mansell never once spent more +than five minutes learning his "rep," yet on no occasion did he get less +than twelve out of twenty. A bare outline was required, a loud voice +supplied the rest. + +In this form it was that Gordon first began to crib. He did not do it +to get marks. He merely wished to avoid being "bottled." Some +headmasters, and the writers to _The Boy's Own Paper_, draw lurid +pictures of the bully who by cribbing steals the prize from the poor +innocent who looks up every word in a big Liddell and Scott; but such +people don't exist. No one ever cribbed in order to get a prize: they +crib from mere slackness. Mansell's exam. prize in IV. A is about the +only instance of a prize won by cribbing. Besides, cribbing is an art. + +Ruddock, for instance, when he used to go on to translate, was +accustomed to take up his Vergil in one hand and his Bohn in the other. + +"What is that other book, Ruddock?" Claremont asked once. + +"Some notes, sir," was the perfectly truthful answer. + +Ruddock was, moreover, an altruist; he always worked for the good of his +fellow-men. One day, when Mansell was bungling most abominably with his +Euripides, he flung his Bohn along the desk, Mansell picked it up, +propped it in front of him and read it off. Claremont never noticed. +This was the start of a great system of combination. Everyone at the +beginning of the term paid twopence to the general account with which +Ruddock bought some _Short Steps to Accurate Translations_. As each +person went on to translate, the book was passed to him and he read +straight out of it. The translating was, in consequence, always of a +remarkably high standard. Claremont never understood why examinations +always proved the signal for a general collapse. History, however, was a +subject that had long been a worry to the form. Dates are irrevocable +facts and cannot be altered, they must be learnt. At one time, when +Claremont said, "Shut your book. I will ask a few questions," everyone +shut their Latin grammars loudly and kept their history books open; but +this was rather too obvious a ruse; Claremont began to spot it. +Something had to be done. It would be an insult to expect any member of +the form to prepare a lesson. It was Gordon who finally devised a plan. + +"Please, sir," he said one day, "don't you think we should find history +much more interesting if we could bring in maps." + +"Well, perhaps it would," said Claremont sleepily. "I am sure the form +is very much indebted to you for your kind thought. Anyone who wants to, +may bring in a map." + +Next day everyone had found a huge atlas which he propped up on the +desk; and which completely hid everything except the student's actual +head. There was now no fear of an open book being spotted, it was so +very simple to shut it when Claremont began to walk about, and besides +... it made the lesson so much more interesting. + +And so Gordon and Mansell were able to discuss football the whole of +evening hall, never do a stroke of work, and yet get quite a respectable +half-term report. + +The interest in the Thirds was now becoming intense. As was expected, +Buller's easily beat all the outhouses, with Claremont's house as +runners-up. Claremont's house had once been the great athletic house, +but when a house master takes but little interest in a house's +performances, that house is apt to get stale, and soon Claremont's +became a name for mediocrity. As a house it was like V. B, a happy land +where no one worried about anything, and it was quite safe to smoke in +the studies on a Sunday afternoon. A side made up of two houses that had +never played together before was bound to lack the combination of a side +that had played together for several weeks. But the School House was +always playing against superior weight and strength, and more than once +had found itself unable to sustain their efforts, and after leading up +to half-time went clean to pieces in the last ten minutes. It is pretty +hard to hold a "grovel" several stones heavier for over an hour, and +this year even Armour was a little doubtful about the lightness of his +side. To Gordon and Jeffries, of course, defeat seemed impossible. Last +year Jeffries had played in a winning side and Gordon had yet to see the +House lose a match. But Mansell smiled sadly; he had played in a good +many losing sides. Gordon dreamed football night and day. He saw himself +securing wonderful last-minute tries, and bringing off amazing collars +when all seemed lost. But all his hopes were doomed to disappointment. +Two days before the game he slipped coming downstairs, fell with his +wrist under him, and with his arm in splints and sling had to watch from +the touch-line an outhouse victory of ten points to nothing. The usual +thing happened--the House was just not strong enough. Jeffries played a +great game, and fought an uphill fight splendidly; Lovelace only missed +a drop goal by inches; Fletcher, an undisciplined forward, did great +damage till warned by the referee. But weight told, and during the whole +of the last half the House were penned in their twenty-five, while the +school got over twice. Very miserably the House sat down to tea that +evening. It added insult to injury when an impertinent fag from Buller's +walked in in the middle and demanded the cup. Armour managed to keep his +temper, but that fag did not forget for weeks the booting Gordon gave +him the next day. Still it was a poor revenge for a lost cup. + +Whatever little chance there had ever been of Gordon getting a place in +the Two Cock was, of course, quite destroyed by his accident. The doctor +said he ought not to play again for at least three weeks. And so it was +that, as far as football was concerned, Gordon found himself rather out +of it. All his friends were in the thick of everything. Mansell was +captain of the Two Cock, Jeffries was leading the scrum, Hunter was +being tried as scrum half, and Lovelace was in training as a reserve. He +alone was doing nothing. For a few days the afternoons seemed unbearably +long. But Gordon had a remarkable gift for adapting himself to +circumstances. And he had very little difficulty in striking up new +acquaintances. So far, he had had very little to do with those outside +his actual set; with the majority of the House he was hardly on speaking +terms, and of Archie Fletcher he knew little except the name. + +Archie Fletcher was a great person; "great" in fact was the only +adjective that really fitted him. He had only two real objects in life, +one was to get his House cap, the other was to enjoy himself. And his +love of pleasure usually took the form of ragging masters. Ragging with +him did not consist in mere spasmodic episodes of bravado which usually +ended in a beating. He had reduced it to a science. It was to him the +supreme art. At present he was suffering from a kick on the knee which +he had received in the Thirds, and he and Gordon found themselves +constantly thrown together. + +Archie (no one ever called him anything else), was a splendid companion. +He had an enormous repertoire of anecdotes which he was never tired of +telling, and every one finished in exactly the same way: "Believe me, +Caruthers, some rag." Oh, a great man, forsooth, was Archie! He had +cynically examined every master with whom he had anything to do, picked +him to pieces, found out his faults, and then played on his weaknesses. +Sometimes, however, he went a little too far. On one occasion he was +doing chemistry with a certain Jenks, a very fiery little man, who +really believed in the educational value of "stinks." So did Archie; it +gave him scope to exercise his genius for playing the fool. But this day +he overstepped the bounds. In the distance, he saw Blake, his pet +aversion, carefully working out an experiment. A piece of glass tubing +was at hand; Jenks was not looking; Archie fixed the tube to the +waterspout, turned the tap; a cascade of H_{2}O rose in the air and fell +on Blake's apparatus; there was a crash of falling glass. Jenks spun +round. + +"Oh, is that you, Fletcher, you stupid fellow? Come over here. I shall +have to beat you. Now then, where's my cane gone! Oh, then I shall have +to use some rubber tubing--stoop down, stoop down!" + +Laboriously Archie bent down; Jenks bent a piece of india-rubber tubing +double--its length was hardly a foot--and gave Archie a feeble blow. It +could not possibly have hurt him. But the victim leapt in the air, +clutching the seat of his trousers. + +"Oh!" he screamed. "Oh, sir, oh, sir! You have hurt me, sir. You are so +strong, sir." + +"Oh, then you are coward, too, are you?" said the delighted Jenks. +"Stoop down again; stoop down!" + +The form rocked with laughter. + +Archie received four strokes in all, and after each he went through the +same performance. Jenks thought himself a second Hercules; he repeated +the story in the common room. Archie repeated it also, in the studies: +"Believe me, you fellows, some rag!" + +A great man, and after Gordon's own heart! + +On a bleak, rainy afternoon Gordon and Fletcher watched the overwhelming +defeat of the House in the Two Cock. The score was over thirty points; +Mansell played only moderately; Jeffries was off his game. A gloom +settled down over the House, everyone became peevish and discontented. +It was said that the great days of House footer were over. To lose both +the Thirds and the Two Cock was a disgrace. No one expected anything but +a rout in the Three Cock. There were bets in the day-room as to whether +the score would be under fifty. Interest centred entirely on who would +get their House caps. With Lovelace away, the three-quarter line would +be innocuous: the forwards always had been weak. The House were bad +losers, they had grown accustomed to victories. + + + + +CHAPTER V: EMERGING + + +"Jeffries was pretty hot stuff to-day, wasn't he?" + +"Good Lord! yes. If he plays half as well as that in the Three Cock +he'll get his House cap." + +It was just after tea. Mansell was lying back in an easy-chair with his +feet on the table; he was dead tired after a strenuous game. Gordon was +sitting on the table. Hunter reclined in the window seat. + +"Where is he, by the way?" said Gordon. "I didn't see him in to tea." + +"Oh, I believe someone asked him out. Isn't he rather a pal of the +Jacobs in Cheap Street?" + +"I heard that there was a bit of a row on," said Hunter. "I couldn't +quite make out what about.... Oh, by Jove, that's him." + +Jeffries' voice was heard down the passage: "Mansell." + +A voice answered him: "Here, No. 34." + +Jeffries was heard running upstairs; he entered looking very dejected. + +"Hullo! Cheer up!" shouted Mansell. "I shouldn't have thought you could +have run like that after this afternoon's game. Where've you been?" + +"I say ... I'm in the deuce of a row." + +There was a shriek of laughter. Jeffries was always in a row; and he +always exaggerated its importance. + +"Don't laugh. It's no damned joke. I've got bunked." + +Silence suddenly fell on the group. + +"But ... what the hell have you been doing?" + +"Chief's found out all about me and Fitzroy, and I've got to go!" + +"But I never thought there was really anything in that," said Gordon. "I +thought----" + +"Oh, well, there was. I know I'm an awful swine and all that----Oh, it's +pretty damnable; and the Three Cock, too! I believe I should have got my +House cap!... I wasn't so dusty to-day--and I heard Armour say, as he +came off the field----Damn, what the bloody hell does it matter what +Armour said? It's over now. I just got across for a minute to see you +men.... I said I wanted a book.... Lord, I can't believe it...." + +When he stopped speaking there was again a dead silence. None of the +three had been brought face to face with such a tragedy before. Never, +Gordon thought, had the Greek idea of Nemesis seemed so strong. + +Hunter broke the silence. + +"What are you going to do now?" + +"I don't know. I shall go home, and then, I suppose, I shall have to go +to France or Germany, or perhaps some crammer. I don't know or care ... +it's bound to be pretty rotten...." + +He half smiled. + +"My God, and it's damned unfair," Mansell said suddenly. "There are +jolly few of us here any better than you, and look at the bloods, every +one of them as fast as the devil, and you have to go just because----Oh, +it's damned unfair." + +Then Jeffries' wild anger, the anger that had made him so brilliant an +athlete, burst out: "Unfair? Yes, that's the right word; it is unfair. +Who made me what I am but Fernhurst? Two years ago I came here as +innocent as Caruthers there; never knew anything. Fernhurst taught me +everything; Fernhurst made me worship games, and think that they alone +mattered, and everything else could go to the deuce. I heard men say +about bloods whose lives were an open scandal, 'Oh, it's all right, +they can play football.' I thought it was all right too. Fernhurst made +me think it was. And now Fernhurst, that has made me what I am, turns +round and says, 'You are not fit to be a member of this great school!' +and I have to go. Oh, it's fair, isn't it?" + +He dropped exhausted into a chair. After a pause he went on: + +"Oh, well, it's no use grousing. I suppose if one hits length balls on +the middle stump over square leg's head one must run the risk of being +bowled; and I didn't believe in sticking in and doing nothing. 'Get on +or get out,' and, well, I've got out." He laughed rather hysterically. + +Again silence. + +Slowly Jeffries got up. + +"Well, good-bye, you men." He shook hands. As he opened the door he +paused for a second, laughed to himself: "Oh, it's funny, bloody funny," +he murmured. "Not fit for Fernhurst.... Bloody funny." He laughed again, +bitterly. The door closed slowly. + +Jeffries' footsteps could be heard on the stairs. They grew fainter; the +door leading to the Chief's side of the House slammed. Down the study +passage a gramophone struck up _Florrie was a Flapper_. + +In Study 34 there was an awful stillness. + +That evening on the way down to supper Gordon overheard Armour say to +Meredith: + +"What a fool that man Jeffries is, getting bunked, and mucking up the +grovel. Damned ass, the man is." + +Meredith agreed. + +Gordon didn't care very much just now about the result of a House match. +He had lost a friend. Armour had lost a cog in a machine. + + * * * * * + +As was expected, the Three Cock proved a terribly one-sided game. The +House played pluckily, and for the first half kept the score down to +eight points; but during the last twenty minutes it was quite impossible +to keep out the strong outhouse combination. The side became +demoralised, and went absolutely to pieces. Armour did not give a single +House cap. + +After the Three Cock there was a period of four weeks during which the +best athletes trained for the sports, while the rest of the school +played hockey. It was generally considered a sort of holiday after the +stress of house matches. Usually it served its purpose well, but for the +welfare of the House this year it was utterly disastrous. The whole +house was in a highly strung, discontented state; it had nothing to work +for; it had only failures to look back upon. The result was a general +opposition to authority. For a week or so there was a continuous row +going on in the studies. Window-frames were broken; chairs were smashed; +nearly every day one or other member of the House was hauled before the +Chief, for trouble of some sort. But things did not reach a real head +till one night in hall, just before Palm Sunday. There was a lecture for +the Sixth Form; Armour was taking hall; and the only prefect in the +studies was Sandham, who had a headache and had got leave off the +lecture. It did not take long for the good news to spread round the +studies that only "the Cockroach" was about. + +The first sign of trouble was a continual sound of opening doors. Archie +was rushing round, stirring up strife; then there came a sound of many +voices from the entrance of the studies, where were the fire hose and +the gas meter. Suddenly the gas was turned out throughout the whole +building, and pandemonium broke out. + +It would be impossible to describe the tumult made by a whole house that +was inspired by only one idea: the desire to make a noise. The voice of +Sandham rose in a high-pitched wail over and again above the uproar; but +it was pitch dark, he could see none of the offenders. Then all at once +there was peace again, the lights went up, and everyone was quietly +working in his study. It had been admirably worked out. Archie was +"some" organiser. + +For the time being the matter ended; but in a day or two rumours of the +rebellion had reached Clarke. Strong steps had to be taken; and Clarke +was not the man to shirk his duty. + +That evening after prayers he got up and addressed the House. + +"I have been told that two nights ago, when I was absent, there was a +most unseemly uproar in the studies. I am not going into details; you +all know quite well what I mean. I want anyone who assisted in the +disturbance to stand up." + +There was not a move. The idea that the Public School boy's code of +honour forces him to own up at once is entirely erroneous. Boys only own +up when they are bound to be found out; they are not quixotic. + +"Well, then, as no one has spoken, I shall have to take forcible +measures. Everyone above IV. A (for the Lower School did their +preparation in the day-room) will do me a hundred lines every day till +the end of the term. Thank you." + +That night there was loud cursing. Clarke had hardly a supporter, the +other prefects, with the exception of Ferguson, who did not count for +much in the way of things, agreed with Meredith, who said: + +"If the Cockroach can't keep order, how can Clarke expect there should +be absolute quiet? It's the Chief's fault for making such prefects. +Damned silly, I call it." + +The term did not end without a further row. There had been from time +immemorial a system by which corps clothes were common property. +Everyone flung them in the middle of the room on Tuesday after parade; +the matron sorted them out after a fashion; but most people on the next +Tuesday afternoon found themselves with two tunics and no trousers, or +two hats and only one puttee. But no one cared. The person who had two +tunics flung one in the middle of the floor, and then went in search of +some spare trousers. Everyone was clothed somehow in the end. There was +always enough clothes to go round. There was bound to be at least ten +people who had got leave off. It was a convenient socialism. + +But one day FitzMorris turned up on parade in a pair of footer shorts, a +straw hat, and a First Eleven blazer. He was a bit of a nut, and finding +his clothes gone, went on strangely garbed, merely out of curiosity to +see what would happen. A good deal did happen. + +As soon as the corps was dismissed there was a clothes inspection. And +the garments of FitzMorris were found distributed on various bodies. +Clarke again addressed the House. Anyone in future discovered wearing +anyone else's clothes would be severely dealt with. But the House was +not to be outdone. Every single name was erased from every single piece +of clothing: identification was impossible. FitzMorris turned up at the +next parade with one puttee missing, and a tunic that could not meet +across his chest. There was another inspection, but this time it +revealed nothing. Everyone swore that he was wearing his own clothes; +there was nothing to prove that he was not. For the time Clarke was +discomfited. + +FitzMorris set out on his Easter holidays contented with himself and the +world, in the firm belief that he had thoroughly squashed that blighter +Clarke. The head of the House returned to his lonely home on the moors, +very thoughtful--the next term would be his last. + +On the first Sunday of the summer term the Chief preached a sermon the +effect of which Gordon never forgot. He was speaking on the subject of +memory and remorse. "It may be in a few months," he said, "it may be not +for three or four years; but at any rate before very long, you will each +one of you have to stand on the threshold of life, and looking back you +will have to decide whether you have made the best of your Fernhurst +days. For a few moments I ask you to imagine that it is your last day at +school. How will it feel if you have to look back and think only of +shattered hopes, of bright unfulfilled promises? Your last day is bound +to be one of infinite pathos. But to the pathos of human sorrow there is +no need to add the pathos of failure. Oh, I know you are many of you +saying to yourselves: 'There is heaps of time. We'll enjoy ourselves +while we have the chance. It is not for so very long!' No, you are right +there: it is not for so very long; it is only a few hours before you +will have to weigh in the balance the good and the bad you have done +during your Fernhurst days. For some of you it will be in a few weeks; +but for the youngest of you it cannot be more than a very few years. Let +me beg each of you ..." The sermon followed on traditional lines. + +Almost subconsciously Gordon rose with the others to sing: _Lord, behold +us with Thy Blessing_.... What would it feel like to him if this were +his last Sunday, and he had to own that his school career were a +failure? He sat quite quiet in his study thinking for a long time +afterwards. He had a study alone this term. + +In the big study that it has ever been the privilege of the head of the +House to own, Clarke also sat very silent. He was nerving himself for a +great struggle. + + * * * * * + +To the average individual the summer term is anything but the heaven it +is usually imagined to be. The footer man hates it; the fag has to field +all day on a house game and always goes in last; there is early school; +in some houses there are no hot baths. On the first day the studies are +loud with murmurs of: + +"Oh! this rotten summer term." + +"No spare time and cricket." + +"Awful!" + +For Fernhurst was primarily a footer school. Buller had captained +England and had infused much of his own enthusiasm into his Fifteens; +but the cricket coach, a Somerset professional, lacked "the Bull's" +personality and force, and so for the last few years the doings of the +Eleven had been slight and unmeritable. Even Lovelace major had been +unable to carry a whole side on his shoulders. As soon as he was out the +school ceased to take any interest in the game. Fernhurst batting was of +the stolid, lifeless type, and showed an almost mechanical subservience +to the bowling. + +But for Gordon this term was sheer joy. He loved cricket +passionately--last season at his preparatory school he had headed the +batting averages, and kept wicket with a certain measure of success. As +a bat he was reckless in the extreme; time after time he flung away his +wicket, trying to cut straight balls past point; he was the despair of +anyone who tried to coach him; but he managed to get runs. + +For cricket the School House was divided into A-K and L-Z, according to +which division the names of the boys fell into. Meredith was captain of +the House and of L-Z, while FitzMorris captained A-K. For the first half +of the term there were Junior House Single-Innings matches played in the +American method, and afterwards came the Two-Innings Senior matches on +the knock-out system. A-K Junior this year had quite a decent side. +Foster was not at all a bad slow bowler, and was known to have made +runs. Collins had a useful but unorthodox shot which he applied to every +ball, no matter where it pitched, and which landed the ball either over +shortslip's head or over the long-on boundary. In the nets it was a +hideous performance, but in Junior House matches, where runs are the one +consideration it was extremely useful. A certain Betteridge captained +the side, not because of any personal attainments, but because he was on +the V. A table, and had played in Junior House matches with consistent +results for three years. He went in tenth and sometimes bowled. + +These matches began at once, as Stewart, the captain of the Eleven, was +anxious to spot useful men for the Colts, the under sixteen side, who +wore white caps with a blue dragon worked on them. And so on the second +Saturday of the term A-K drew Buller's in the first round. Before the +game FitzMorris had the whole side in his study to fix the positions in +the field. Some of the side had played little serious cricket before. +Brown, in fact, asked if he might field middle and leg. But at last they +were placed more or less to their own satisfaction, and FitzMorris gave +them a short "jaw" on keenness. Cricket was about the one thing he +really cared for; as a chemistry specialist he spent most of his day +adoze in the laboratory. It was only in the cricket field that he really +woke up. + +With great solemnity Betteridge walked forward to toss with Felsted, the +Buller's captain. A few seconds later he returned to announce that +Buller's had won the toss and put them in. The captain of a Junior House +side is always very fond of putting the other side in first. P.F. Warner +would demand rain overnight, a drying ground, a fast wind and a baking +sun before he would dare do such a thing. But Felsted was made of +sterner stuff. + +Gordon was sent in first with Collins. The idea was to try and knock the +bowlers off their length early. Gordon was very nervous. "The Bull" was +umpire at one end and FitzMorris at the other. Meredith had strolled +over to watch, as L-Z had drawn a bye. Mansell was in the Pavilion +eating an ice. All eyes seemed on him. He had made Collins take the +first ball. The start was worthy of the best School House traditions. +The first ball was well outside the off-stump; it landed in the National +School grounds that ran alongside of the school field. A howl of +untuneful applause went up. This was the cricket anyone could +appreciate, and this was the cricket that was always seen on a School +House game. Its only drawback was that could not last. Collins made a +few more daring strokes. In the second over he made a superb drive over +shortslip's head to the boundary, and his next shot nearly ended +FitzMorris' somnolent existence. It was great while it lasted, but, like +all great things, it came to an end. He gave the simplest of chances to +cover point, and Buller's rarely missed their catches. + +It was so with nearly all the other members of the side. Three or four +terrific hits and then back under the trees again. Gordon alone seemed +at all comfortable. Either the novelty of the surroundings (it was only +his second innings at Fernhurst), or else the presence of "the Bull," +quieted his customary recklessness. At any rate, he attempted no +leg-glides on the off-stump, and in consequence found little difficulty +in staying in. The boundaries, as was natural on a side ground, were +quite close. Runs came quite easily. During the interval after Foster's +dismissal "the Bull" walked across to him: + +"How old are you, Caruthers?" + +"Thirteen and a half, sir." + +"Oh, good thing to come young. I did myself. Keep that left foot well +across and you'll stop in all day. Well done. Stick to it." + +Gordon was amazingly bucked up. He had always heard "the Bull" was +anti-School House, and here he was encouraging one of his enemies. What +rot fellows did talk. Splendid man "the Bull"! He would tell Mansell so +that night. + +And his opinion was even more strengthened when, after he had been clean +bowled for forty-three without a chance, "the Bull" stopped him on the +way out and said: + +"Well done, Caruthers! Plucky knock. Go and have a tea at the tuck-shop, +and put it down to my account." + +The School House innings closed for one hundred and forty-eight. +"Nothing like big enough," said Foster. + +FitzMorris overheard him. + +"Rot! Absolute rot! If you go on the field in that spirit you won't get +a single man out. Go in and win." + +And a very fine fight the House put up. Foster bowled splendidly, +Betteridge was fast asleep at point and brought off a marvellous +one-handed catch, while Gordon stumped Felsted in his third over. After +an hour's play seven men were out for about ninety. The scorers were at +variance, so the exact score could not be discovered. There seemed a +reasonable chance of winning. And to his dying day Gordon will maintain +that they would have won but for that silly ass of an umpire, +FitzMorris. Bridges, the Buller's wicket-keep, was run out by yards; +there was no doubt about it. Everyone saw it. But long hours at the +laboratory had made it very hard for FitzMorris to concentrate his brain +on anything for a long time; he was happily dreaming, let us hope, of +carbon bisulphate, when the roar, "How's that?" woke him up. He had to +give the man "not out"; there was nothing else to do. Twenty minutes +later, with a scandalous scythe-stroke, Bridges made the winning hit. + +"Never mind, your men put up a good fight; the luck was all on our +side," said "the Bull" to Caruthers. "Let's see, it's Sunday to-morrow, +isn't it? Well, on Monday, then, come round to the nets; you want to +practise getting that left foot across. Look here, just get your bat and +I'll toss you up one or two now at the nets!" + +That night "the Bull," talking over the game with his side in the +dormitories, said: "That Caruthers, you know, he's a good man; sort of +fellow we want in the school. Can fight an uphill game. Got grit. He'll +make a lot of runs for the school some day." + +On Monday Gordon saw his name down for nets with the Colts Eleven. Life +was good just then. If only Jeffries were there too.... + + + + +CHAPTER VI: CLARKE + + +"Ferguson, the House is getting jolly slack; something's got to be +done." + +Ferguson sat up in his chair. Clarke had been quiet nearly the whole of +hall; there was obviously something up. + +"Oh, I don't know. Why, only a quarter of an hour ago I came across +Collins and Brown playing stump cricket in the cloisters instead of +studying Thucydides. That's what I call keenness." + +"What did you say to them?" + +"Oh, I've forgotten now, but it was something rather brilliant. I know +it was quite lost on them. The Shell can't appreciate epigram. They +ought to read more Wilde. Great book _Intentions_. Ever read it, Clarke? + +"Oh, confound your Wildes and Shaws; that's just what I object to. Here +are these kids, who ought to be working, simply wasting their time, +thinking of nothing but games. Why, I was up in the House tutor's room +last night and was glancing down the list of form orders. Over half the +House was in double figures." + +"But, my good man, why worry? As long as the lads keep quiet in hall, +and leave us in peace, what does it matter? Peace at any price, that's +what I say; we get so little of it in this world, let us hang on to the +little we have got." + +"But look what a name the House will get." + +"The House will get much the same reputation in the school as England +has in Europe. The English as a whole are pleasure-loving and slack. +They worship games; and, after all, the Englishman is a jolly sight +better fellow than the average German or Frenchman." + +"Yes, of course he's a better fellow, but the rotten thing is that he +might be a much better fellow still. If as a country we had only +ourselves to think about, let us put up a god of sport. But we have not. +We have to compete with the other nations of the world. And late cuts +are precious little use in commerce. This athleticism is ruining the +country. At any rate, I am not going to have it in the House. In hall +they've got to work; and if their places in form aren't better next week +there's going to be trouble." + +"Yes there'll most certainly be trouble. I can't think why you won't +leave well alone. Lord Henry Wootton used to say----" + +But Clarke was paying no attention. + +That evening he got up after prayers to address the House. + +"Will nothing stop this fellow's love of oratory?" murmured Betteridge. + +"I have to speak to the House on a subject which I consider important," +began Clarke. ("Which probably means that it's most damnable nonsense," +whispered Mansell.) "The position of the members of the House in form +order is not at all creditable. In future every week the senior member +of each form will bring me a list with the places of each School House +member of the form on it. I intend to deal severely with anyone I find +consistently low. I hope, however, that I shall not have need to. This +is the best house socially and athletically; there is no reason why we +should not be the best house at work too." + +"As I prophesied," said Mansell, "most damnable nonsense!" + +On the Second and Third Forms this speech had a considerable effect. For +the first time in his life Cockburn did some work, and at the end of the +week he was able to announce that he had gone up two places--from +seventeenth to fifteenth. There were seventeen in the form. + +The Shell and the Lower Fourth were, of course, too old to consider the +possibility of actually working. It was a preposterous idea. Something +had to be done, however, so Collins bought excellent translations of the +works of Vergil and Xenophon. A vote of thanks proposed by Foster and +seconded by Brown was very properly carried _nem. con._ + +But in V. B and IV. A there were some strong, rebellious spirits who +would not bow down under any tyranny. In Study No. 1, at the end of the +passage on the lower landing, Mansell addressed a meeting of delegates +with great fervour. + +"From time immemorial," he thundered out, "it has been the privilege of +the members of this House" (he had been reading _John Bull_ the day +before) "to enjoy themselves, to work if they wanted to, to smoke if +they wanted to, to do any damned thing they wanted to. The only thing +they'd got to do was to play like hell in the Easter term, and here's +that ---- Clarke trying to make us do work, and, what is more, to work +for Claremont! Gentlemen, let us stand by our traditions." (Mr Bottomley +is useful at times.) + +"That's all very jolly," said the practical Farrow, "but what are you +doing?" + +"Oh, it doesn't matter what we do, as long as we stand up for our +rights. Who ever heard of School House men working?" + +"Now look here, my good fellows," said the ingenious Archie, "it's quite +simple, if you will only do as I tell you. Clarke told us to bring him a +form list; the obvious thing to do is not to bring one at all." + +"But, you silly ass, the fellow who ought to have brought it will get +into the very Hades of a row." + +"Exactly. But who is the responsible person? Clarke said the senior man. +Well, now, in IV. A I am, as far as work is concerned, the senior man in +the form. But Hasel has been in the form a term longer than me, while +Farrow, a most arrant idiot, who has only just reached the form, has +been in the House a year longer than either of us. There is no senior +man. We have all excellent claims to the position, but we waive them in +favour of our inferiors." + +Archie was at once acclaimed as the Napoleon of deceit. That week Clarke +found no form order either from IV. A or V.B. After prayers that evening +he asked to see all those in IV. A and V.B. + +When the conspirators arrived at his study Clarke found that everything +had been elaborately prepared. There was not a single hitch in the +argument. No one was at fault. There had been a general +misunderstanding. They were, of course, very sorry. Clarke listened in +silence. + +"Well, I'm sorry this has happened. But when I say that I want a thing +done, I expect it to be done. None of you are to blame particularly; but +you are all equally guilty. I shall be forced to cane the lot of you." + +There was a gasp. They had known Clarke was a strong man, but they had +hardly expected this. Mansell was indignant. + +"But look here, Clarke, you can't beat me, I'm a House cap." + +"Can't I?" + +"It has been a House tradition for years that a House cap can't be +beaten." + +"I am sorry, Mansell, but I have little respect for traditions. Will you +all wait for me in the Sixth Form room?" + +"All right, I shall go to the Chief then." + +"I don't think you will, Mansell." + +The Chief was not very fond of receiving complaints about his House +prefects. + +It was, of course, obvious that Clarke, when he had started on a job +like this, had to carry it through. If he had gone back, his position +would have been impossible; but there could be no doubt that it was a +disastrous campaign as far as the unity of the House was concerned. At +once the House was divided into sides, and nearly the whole of the Sixth +Form was against Clarke. + +"It's not the duty of the head of the House to see how people are +working. That is a House master's job," pointed out FitzMorris. "All +Clarke has got to do is to see that the kids don't rag in hall, and at +other times more or less behave themselves." + +The House was in a state of open rebellion. + +And the worst of it was that none of the other prefects made any attempt +to keep order. Now there was a rule that in hall only three people might +be allowed in one study, the idea being that, if more got in, work would +be bound to change into conversation. One evening, however, a huge crowd +slowly congregated in Mansell's study. Lovelace dropped in to borrow a +book, and stayed. Hunter and Gordon came for a chat, and stayed too. +Archie Fletcher had, as was usual with him, done all his preparation in +half-an-hour, and was in search of something to do. Betteridge heard a +noise outside, walked in, and stopped to give his opinion on the chances +of A-K beating L-Z that week. In a few minutes the conversation got +rather heated. The noise could be heard all down the passage. + +Meredith came down to see what was going on. + +"Ah, 'some' party! Well, Mansell, got over your beating yet?" + +There was subdued laughter. + +"I say, Meredith, have A-K the slightest chance of beating us on +Thursday?" Lovelace was captain of L-Z Junior, and had laid rather +heavily on a victory. + +"Of course not, my good man, I'm going to umpire." + +This time the laughter was not subdued. + +In his retreat at the far end of the studies Clarke heard it. Down the +passage he thundered, knocked at the door, and came in. + +"What's the meaning of this? You know quite well that not more than +three are allowed in here at one time. Come to my study, the lot of +you." + +All this time Meredith was being jammed behind the door. + +"When you have quite finished, Clarke," he said. + +"I am sorry, Meredith. Are you responsible for this?" + +"In a way, yes. I was rather afraid that the House was getting slack +about their work. A very bad thing for a house, Clarke! So I took this +opportunity of holding a little viva voce examination. We were studying +'The Sermon on the Mount,' a singularly beautiful and impressive +passage, Clarke. Have you read it?" + +Clarke had read it that day as the lesson in chapel. He had also read it +rather badly, having a cold in his head. + +"You seem to have rather a large class, Meredith," he said +sarcastically. + +"Yes; like our good Lord, I have beaten the by-ways and the hedges, and +I am almost afraid I shall also have to beat Mansell. He has singularly +failed to appreciate the full meaning of that passage about 'humility.'" + +Clarke saw he was beaten, and turned away. As he walked down the passage +he heard a roar of laughter coming from Study No. 1. + +The story was all round the House in half-an-hour, and on his way down +to prayers Clarke heard FitzMorris say before a whole crowd: + +"You are a great fellow, Meredith. That's the way to keep these upstarts +in order." + +That night there was merriment in the games study, and Ferguson advised +Clarke to let the matter drop. + +"After all, you know, it's not your business." + +And perhaps Clarke realised that Ferguson was for once right. But he had +to go on; it was very hard, though. He had been quite popular before he +was head of the House. He wished he had left a year ago. For it is hard +to be hated where one loves. And Clarke, well as he loved Fernhurst, +loved the House a hundred times more. + + * * * * * + +"Well played, Caruthers; jolly good knock." + +"Well done, Caruthers!" + +Lovelace and Mansell banged excitedly into Gordon's study the evening +after the Colts match _v._ Murchester. Gordon had made thirty-seven on a +wet wicket, and a defeat by over a hundred runs was no fault of his. He +had gone in first wicket down, and stayed till the close. + +"It was splendid! You ought to be a cert. for your Colts' cap. 'The +Bull' was fearfully bucked." + +"Oh, I don't know; it was not so very much." In his heart of hearts +Gordon was pretty certain he would get his cap; but it would never do to +show what he thought. + +"Oh, rot, my good man," burst out Lovelace. "You didn't give a chance +after the first over. And, by Jove, that was a bit of luck then." + +"Yes, you know, I have a good deal of luck one way and another. I +haven't got in a single row yet; and I am always being missed." + +"And some fellows have no luck at all. Now Foster was batting +beautifully before he was run out; never saw such a scandalous mix-up. +All the other man's fault. He bowled well, too. I shouldn't be a bit +surprised if he didn't get his Colts' cap. I know 'the Bull' likes him." + +"Do you think so?" said Gordon. He did not know why, but he rather hoped +Foster would not get his cap. He himself would be captain of A-K Junior +next year. It would be better if he was obviously senior to Foster. He +was going to be the match-winning factor; and, so far as seniority goes, +there is not much to choose between men who get their colours on the +same day. + +"Of course he won't if you don't," Mansell said, "but I think he's +worth it. I say, let's have a feed to-night. There's just time before +hall to order some stuff. Lovelace, rush off to the tuck-shop, and put +it down to my account." + +Gordon found it impossible to work during hall; he fidgeted nervously. +He felt as he had felt on the last day of his first term before +prize-giving. He knew if he was going to get his Colts' cap he would get +it early that night. Stewart always gave colours during first hall. He +sat and waited nervously; work became quite impossible. He looked +through _The Daily Telegraph_ and flung it aside; then picked up _The +London Mail_; that was rather more in his line. + +There was a sound of talking down the passage. He heard Clarke's voice +saying: + +"Yes, down there, third study down, No. 16." + +A second later there was a knock on the door. He managed to gulp out: +"Come in." + +"Gratters on your Colts' cap, Caruthers. Well played!" + +Stewart shook hands with him. The next minute Gordon heard him walking +to the school notice-board in the cloister. He was pinning up the +notice. + +Gordon sat quite still; his happiness was too great.... + +No one is allowed to walk about in the studies before eight dining-hall. +For a quarter of an hour there was silence in the passage. + +Eight struck; there was an opening of doors. + +A few minutes later Hunter dashed in. + +"Well done, Caruthers. Hooray!" + +"Well done, Caruthers!" "Good old A-K!" "I am so glad!" Everyone seemed +pleased. + +Just before prayers, as he sat at the top of the day-room table, +FitzMorris came over to him. "Jolly good, Caruthers. Well done." His cup +was full. + +Foster did not get his cap.... + +The next day as Gordon was walking across the courts in break "the Bull" +came up to him. + +"Gratters, Caruthers; wasn't your fault you lost. I like a man who can +fight uphill. You have got the grit--well done, lad." + +"And yet," said Gordon to Mansell, as they passed under the school +gate, "you say that man cares only for his house. Why, he only loves his +house because it's a part of Fernhurst; and Fernhurst is the passion of +his life!" + + + + +CHAPTER VII: WHEN ONE IS IN ROME ... + + +Generalisations are always apt to be misleading, but there was surely no +truer one ever spoken than the old proverb: "When one is in Rome, one +does as Rome does!" Parsons and godmothers will, of course, protest +that, if you found yourselves among a crowd of robbers and drunkards, +you would not copy _them_! And yet it is precisely what the average +individual would do. When a boy leaves his preparatory school he has a +conscience; he would not tell lies; he would be scrupulously honest in +form; he would not borrow things he never meant to return; he would say +nothing he would be ashamed of his mother or sister overhearing. + +But before this same innocent has been at school two terms he has learnt +that everything except money is public property. The name in a book or +on a hockey stick means nothing. Someone once said to Collins: + +"I say, I want to write here, are those your books?" + +"No, they are the books I use," was the laconic answer. + +The code of a Public School boy's honour is very elastic. Masters are +regarded as common enemies; and it is never necessary to tell them the +truth. Expediency is the golden rule in all relations with the common +room. And after a very few weeks even Congreve would have had to own +that the timid new boy could spin quite as broad a yarn as he. The +parents do not realise this. It is just as well. It is a stage in the +development of youth. Everyone must pass through it. Yet sometimes it +leads to quite a lot of misunderstanding. + +There were one or two incidents during this summer term that stood out +very clearly in Gordon's memory as proofs of the way masters may fail to +realise the boy's point of view. + +One morning just after breakfast Gordon discovered that he had done the +wrong maths for Jenks. He rushed in search of Fletcher. + +"I say, Archie, look here, be a sport. I have done the wrong stuff for +that ass Jenks. Let's have a look at yours." + +In ten minutes four tremendous howlers in as many sums had been +reproduced on Gordon's paper. The work was collected that morning, and +nothing more was heard of it till the next day. Gordon thought himself +quite safe and had ceased to take any interest in the matter. The form +was working out some riders more or less quietly. Suddenly Jenks's tired +voice murmured: + +"Caruthers, did you copy your algebra off Fletcher?" + +"No, sir." + +Jenks was rather fond of asking such leading questions. + +Caruthers had got tired of it. The man was a fool; he must know by this +time that he was bound to get the same answer. + +"Fletcher, did you copy off Caruthers?" + +"No, sir." + +"Caruthers, did you see Fletcher's paper?" + +"No, sir." + +How insistent the ass was getting. + +"Fletcher, did you see Caruther's paper?" + +"No, sir." + +"Oh, you silly fellows. Then I shall have to put both your papers before +the Headmaster. I'm afraid you will both be expelled." + +Jenks had a strange notion of the offences that merited expulsion. Every +time he reported a boy he expected to see him marching sadly to the +station to catch the afternoon train. Once Collins had stuck a pin into +a wonderful mercury apparatus and entirely ruined it. + +"Oh, Collins, you stupid boy. I shall have to report you to the +Headmaster, and you know what that means. We sha'n't see you here any +more." + +Gordon had, of course, not the slightest fear of getting "bunked." But +still it was a nuisance. He would have to be more careful next time. + +"Now look here, you two," Jenks went on, after a bit. "If either of you +cares to own up, I won't report you at all. I will deal with you +myself." + +Slowly Gordon rose. It was obviously an occasion where it paid to own +up. + +"I did, sir." + +"Oh I thought as much. You see yours was in pencil, and if possible a +little worse than Fletcher's. Sit down." + +Betteridge afterwards said that to watch Jenks rushing across the courts +to see the Chief during the minute interval between the exit of one +class and the arrival of the next was better than any pantomime. He was +very small; he had a large white moustache; his gown was too long; it +blew out like sails in the wind. Besides, it was the first time Jenks +had ever been seen to run. + +In due time Caruthers and Fletcher appeared before the Chief. The result +was only a long "jaw" and a bad report. The Chief could not perhaps be +expected to see that a lie was any the less a lie because it was told to +a master. But in the delinquents any feeling of penitence there might +have been was entirely obscured by an utter scorn of Jenks. + +"After all, the man did say he wouldn't report us," said Fletcher. + +"Oh, it's all you can expect from these 'stinks men.' They have no sense +of honour." + +It did not occur to Gordon that in this instance his own sense of honour +had not been tremendously in evidence. The Public School system had set +its mark on him. + +The other incident was the great clothes row. All rows spring from the +most futile sources. This one began with the sickness of one +Evans-Smith, who was suddenly taken ill in form. It was a hot day, and +he fainted. Now Evans-Smith was an absolute nonentity. It was only his +second term, but he had already learnt that anything that was in the +changing-room was common property; and so when the matron took off his +shoes before putting him to bed she saw Rudd's name inside. The matter +was reported to the Chief. The Chief made a tour of the changing-room +during afternoon school, and his eyes were opened. For instance, it was +quite obvious that Turner had changed. His school suit was hung on his +peg, his blazer was presumably on him, and yet his cricket trousers were +lying on the floor, with Fischer's house scarf sticking out of the +pocket. There were many other like discoveries. + +In hall that night the Chief asked Turner whose trousers he was wearing +that afternoon. The wretched youth had not the slightest idea; all he +knew was that they were not his own. He thought they might be +Bradford's. + +After prayers the Chief addressed the House on the subject. He pointed +out how carelessness in little things led to carelessness in greater, +and how dangerous it was to get into a habit of taking other people's +things without thinking. He also said that it was most unhealthy to wear +someone else's clothes. He was, of course, quite right; but the House +could not see it, for the simple reason that it did not want to see it. +It would be an awful nuisance to have to look after one's own things. +Besides, probably the man next to you had a much newer sweater. The +House intended to go on as before. And indeed it did. + +One day Ferguson thought he wanted some exercise. It was a half-holiday, +and Clarke was quite ready for a game of tennis. Ferguson went down to +the changing-room. The first thing he saw was that his tennis shoes were +gone. He thought it quite impossible that anyone should dare to bag his +things. Fuming with wrath, he banged into the matron's room. + +"I say, Matron, look here; my tennis shoes are gone." + +And then, suddenly, he saw the Chief standing at the other end of the +room, glancing down the dormitory list. + +"Oh, really, Ferguson, I must see about this. Matron, do you know +anything about Ferguson's shoes?" + +"No, sir! Never touch the boys' shoes. George is the only person who +looks after them; and he only cleans _black_ boots and shoes." + +"Oh, well, then, Ferguson, you'd better come with me, and we will make a +search for them." + +Ferguson cursed inwardly. This would mean at least half-an-hour wasted; +and he could so easily have found another pair. The School House +changing-room is a noble affair. It is about seventy feet long and sixty +wide. All round it run small partitioned-off benches; in the middle are +stands for corps clothes. At one end there is what was once a piano. +Laboriously the Chief and Ferguson hunted round the room. In the far +corner there was an airing cupboard. It was a great sight to see +Ferguson climb up on the top of this. He was not a gymnast, and he took +some time doing it. Hunter sat changing at one end of the room, +thoroughly enjoying himself. + +Down the passage a loud, tuneless voice began to sing _Who were You with +Last Night?_ and Mansell rolled in. He saw the Chief, and stopped +suddenly, going over to Hunter. + +"What does the old idiot want?" + +"He's hunting for Ferguson's tennis shoes." + +"Good Lord! and I've got them on." + +"Well, get them off, then, quick." + +In a second, while the Chief was looking the other way, Mansell stole +across to the middle of the room and laid them on the top of the +hot-water pipes. + +About two minutes later Ferguson burst out: + +"Look, sir, here they are!" + +"But, my dear Ferguson, I'm sure we must have looked there." + +"Yes, sir. I thought we had." + +"Er, 't any rate there are your shoes, Ferguson, and I hope you'll have +a good game!" The Chief went out, rather annoyed at having wasted so +much time. At tea that evening there was mirth at the V. B table. + +On this occasion trouble was avoided. But one day Willing, a new boy, +lost his corps hat. He was certain it had been there before lunch. The +Corps Parade was already falling in. Seeing no other hat to fit him, he +very idiotically went on without a hat at all. It would have been far +better to have cut parade altogether. Clarke asked him where his hat +was, but his ideas on the subject were very nebulous. The whole corps +was kept waiting while School House hats were examined. Ten people had +got hats other than their own. + +They each got a Georgic.... + +The pent-up fury of the House now broke loose. Everyone swore he would +murder Clarke on the last day, bag his clothes, and hold him in a cold +bath for half-an-hour. If half of the things that were going to be done +on the last day ever happened, how very few heads of houses would live +to tell the tale! It is so easy to talk, so very hard to do anything; a +head of the House is absolutely supreme. If he is at all sensitive, it +is possible to make his life utterly wretched by a silent demonstration +of hatred, but if he is at all a man, threats can never mature, and +Clarke was a man. During his last days at Fernhurst he was supremely +miserable. The House was split up into factions: he himself had no one +to talk to except Ferguson and Sandham. But he carried on the grim joke +to its completion. In the last week he beat four boys for being low in +form, and gave a whole dormitory a hundred lines daily till the end of +the term for talking after lights out. The Chief was sorry to lose him; +Ferguson would make a very weak head. The future was not too bright. + + * * * * * + +"I say, you know, I think I had better get a 'budge' this term." Gordon +announced this fact as the Lower Fifth were pretending to prepare for +the exam. Mansell protested: + +"Now don't be a damned ass, my good man; you don't know when you are +well off. You stop with old Methuselah a bit longer. He is a most +damnable ass, but his form is a glorious slack." + +"Oh, well, I don't know. I think the Sixth is slacker still. I am going +to specialise in something when I get there. I am not quite sure what. +But it's going to mean a lot of study hours." + +At Fernhurst there was a great scheme by which specialists always worked +in their studies. To specialise was the dream of every School House boy. +It is so charming to watch, from the warm repose of your own study, +black figures rushing across the rain-swept courts on the way to their +class-rooms (it always rained at Fernhurst), and Gordon was essentially +a hedonist. + +"Yes, I suppose the higher you go up the less work you do," said +Mansell. "When I was with old 'Bogus' I used to prepare my lessons +sometimes, and, what's more, with a dictionary." + +"Oh, _Quantum mutatus ab illo_," sighed Gordon. + +"Yes, you know," said Betteridge, "the higher you get up the school the +less you need worry about what you do. The prefect is supposed to be the +model of what a Public School boy should be. And yet he is about the +fastest fellow in the school. If I got caught in Davenham's study by +the Chief, even if I said I was only borrowing a pencil, I should get in +the deuce of a row. But Meredith can sit there all hall and say he's +making inquiries about a boxing competition. He's trusted. The lower +forms aren't allowed to prepare in their studies. They might use a crib, +so they have to work in the day-room or big school. The Fifth is trusted +to work, so it can spend school hours in its studies. Of course the +Third works the whole time, while the Fifth just writes the translation +between the lines and then plays barge cricket. It's no use trusting a +Public School boy. Put faith in him and he'll take advantage of it; and +yet there are still some who say the Public School system is +satisfactory!" + +"And I am one of them," said Mansell. "I've had a damned good term so +far, and next term, when I get that big study, I shall have a still +finer time. School may be bad as a moral training, but I live to enjoy +myself. Here's to the Public School system. Long may it live!" + +Betteridge smiled rather sadly; he was not an athlete. + + * * * * * + +The summer exams turned out a lamentably dull affair. Claremont +superintended the Shell and the Lower Fifth. Anyone who wished to crib +could have done so easily. But hardly anyone took the trouble. Mansell +swore he would stay where he was. Ruddock, Johnstone and the other old +stagers were all of the same opinion. Gordon had determined to get high +enough for a promotion, but no higher; tenth would do; and it was easy +to get up there. The small boys in the front bench were all Balliol +scholars in embryo; it would not pay them to crib. The great law of +expediency overhung all proceedings. The result was that they were as +lifeless and dull as most other virtuous things. + +There were, however, a few bright incidents, the foremost of which was +the Divinity exam. Claremont, we know, was a parson and a lover of +poetry, and that term the form had been reading Judges and Samuel and +Kings. As the Divinity exam. came first, it would be wise to put the old +man in a good temper. Ruddock introduced Mr ffoakes Jackson's work on +the Old Testament disguised as a writing-pad. + +There is nothing easier than to write down correct answers to one-word +questions, if you have the answer-book in front of you. Ruddock's +writing-pad passed slowly round the back and centre benches. Next day +the result was announced. + +"Well," said Claremont, "I must own that I was agreeably surprised by +the results of the Divinity papers. The lowest mark was seventy-nine out +of a hundred, and that was Kennedy." (Kennedy was invariably top in the +week's order.) "Ruddock did a really remarkable paper, and scored a +hundred out of a hundred. Johnstone and Caruthers both got ninety-nine, +and several others were in the nineties. In fact, the only ones in the +eighties were those who usually excel. I have taken the form now for +over thirty years, and this is quite unparalleled. I shall ask the +Headmaster if a special prize cannot be given to Johnstone. He certainly +deserves one." + +But the Chief was very wise. As he glanced down the mark list he +realised that Johnstone's marks could hardly be due to honest work. But +the Chief was also very tactful. He thought, on the whole, that in case +of such general merit it would be invidious to single any individual out +for special distinction, and, of course, he could not give prizes to +everyone. He would, however, most certainly mention the fact at +prize-giving. When he did, the applause was strangely mingled with +laughter. + +But this was only one incident in many dull hours. As a whole, the +week's exam. failed to provide much to look back on afterwards with any +satisfaction. Even the Chemistry exam. fell flat. FitzMorris picked up a +copy of the paper on Jenks's desk and took a copy of it. The marks here +also were above the average. + + * * * * * + +It is inevitable that the end of the summer term should be overhung with +an atmosphere of sadness. When the new September term opens there are +many faces that will be missing; the giants of yester-year will have +departed; another generation will have taken their places. But for all +that these last days are not without their own particular glory. Rome +must have been very wonderful during the last week of Sulla's +consulship. And in the passing of Meredith there was something +essentially splendid; for it happens so seldom in life that the +culminating point of our success coincides with the finish of anything. +We are continually being mocked by the horror of the second best. We do +not know where to stop; we cling too long to our laurels; and when the +end finally comes they have begun to wither. Death is an anti-climax. +The heart that once loved, and was as grass before the winds of passion, +has grown cold amid a world of commonplace. But at school there is no +dragging out of triumphs. All too soon the six short years fly past, and +we stand on the threshold of life in the very flush of our pride. "Just +once in a while we may finish in style." It is not often; the roses +fade. + +The final of the Senior House matches was drawing to a close on the last +Friday of the term. Buller's were beating the School House L-Z easily. +There had never been any doubt about the result. L-Z was entirely a +one-man side, that Meredith had managed to carry it on his shoulders +through the two first rounds. + +The House had only two wickets in hand, and still wanted over eighty +runs to avoid an innings' defeat. But Meredith was still in. It had been +a great innings. He had gone in first with Mansell, and watched wicket +after wicket fall, while he had gone on playing the same brilliant game. +Every stroke was the signal of a roar from the pavilion. The whole House +was looking on. It was a fitting end to a dazzling career. It was like +his life, reckless and magnificent. At last he mis-hit a half-volley and +was caught in the deep for seventy-two. + +As he left the wicket the whole House surged forward in front of the +pavilion, and formed up in two lines, leaving a gangway. Amid tremendous +applause Meredith ran between them. The cheering was deafening. + +After prayers that night the Chief said a few words about the match. + +"I am sorry we did not win; but, then, I don't think many of us dared to +hope for that. At any rate, we were not disgraced, and I wish to take +the opportunity of congratulating Meredith, not only on his superb +innings this afternoon, but also on his keen and energetic captaincy +throughout the term." + +This was the signal for another demonstration. Everyone beat with their +fists upon their table. It was a great scene. + +The giants of our youth always appear to us much greater than those of +any successive era. In future years Gordon was to see other captains of +football, other captains of cricket, but with the exception of the +tremendous Lovelace, Meredith towered above them all. He was at that +moment the very great god of Gordon's soul. He seemed to be all that +Gordon wished to be, brilliant and successful. Surely the fates had +showered on him all their gifts. + +On the last Monday there was a huge feed in the games study. Over twenty +people were crowded in. Armour was there, Mansell, Gordon, Simonds, +Foster, Ferguson, everyone except Clarke. There was no one who was not +sorry to lose Meredith; his achievements so dazzled them that they could +see nothing beyond them. They were proud to have such a man in the +house. It was all sheer happiness. + +Somehow on the last day the following notice appeared on the House +board:-- + + In Memoriam + MALEVUS SCHOLARUM + In hadibus requiescat + Quod non sine ignominia militavit + +No one knew who was responsible for it. Clarke looked at it for a second +and turned away with a face that expressed no emotion. + +By the Sixth Form green Simonds was shouting across to Meredith: + +"Best of luck, old fellow, and mind you come down for the House +supper...." + +On the way down to the station Archie Fletcher burst out: + +"Well, thank God, that swine Clarke's gone. He absolutely mucked up the +House." Gordon agreed. + +"If we had a few more men like Meredith now!" Rather a change had come +over the boy who a year before had been shocked at the swearing in the +bathroom. "When one is in Rome...." + + + + +BOOK II: THE TANGLED SKEIN + + "Et je m'en vais + Au vent mauvais + Qui m'emporte + Deca dela + Pareil a la + Feuille morte." + + PAUL VERLAINE. + + + + +CHAPTER I: QUANTUM MUTATUS + + +If Gordon were given the opportunity of living any single year over +again, exactly as he had lived it before, he would in all probability +have chosen his second year at Fernhurst. He had then put safely out of +sight behind him the doubts and anxieties of the junior; he had not yet +reached any of the responsibilities of the senior. It was essentially a +time of light-hearted laughter, of "rags," of careless happiness. Every +day dawned without a trace of trouble imminent; every night closed with +a feed in Mansell's big study, while the gramophone strummed out +rag-time choruses. And yet these three terms were very critical ones in +the development of Gordon's character. Sooner or later everyone must +pass through the middle stage Keats speaks of, where "the way of life is +uncertain, and the soul is in a ferment." Most boys have at their +preparatory schools been so carefully looked after that they have never +learnt to think for themselves. They take everything as a matter of +course. They believe implicitly what their masters tell them about what +is right and wrong. Life is divided up into so many rules. But when the +boy reaches his Public School he finds himself in a world where actions +are regulated not by conscience, but by caprice. Boys do what they know +is wrong; then invent a theory to prove it is right; and finally +persuade themselves that black is white. It is pure chance what the +Public School system will make of a boy. During the years of his +apprenticeship, so to speak, he merely sits quiet, listening and +learning; then comes the middle period, the period in which he is +gradually changing into manhood. In it all his former experiences are +jumbled hopelessly together, his life is in itself a paradox. He does +things without thinking. There is no consistency in his actions. Then +finally the threads are unravelled, and out of the disorder of +conflicting ideas and emotions the tapestry is woven on the wonderful +loom of youth. + +The average person comes through all right. He is selfish, easy-going, +pleasure-loving, absolutely without a conscience, for the simple reason +that he never thinks. But he is a jolly good companion; and the +Freemasonry of a Public School is amazing. No man who has been through a +good school can be an outsider. He may hang round the Empire bar, he may +cheat at business; but you can be certain of one thing, he will never +let you down. Very few Public School men ever do a mean thing to their +friends. And for a system that produces such a spirit there is something +to be said after all. + +But for the boy with a personality school is very dangerous. Being +powerful, he can do nothing by halves; his actions influence not only +himself, but many others. On his surroundings during the time of +transition from boyhood to manhood depend to a great extent the +influence that man will work in the world. He will do whatever he does +on a large scale, and people are bound to look at him. He may stand at +the head of the procession of progress; he may dash himself to pieces +fighting for a worthless cause; and by the splendour of his contest draw +many to him. More likely he will be like Byron, a wonderful, +irresponsible creature, who at one time plumbed the depths, and at +another swept the heavens--a creature irresistibly attractive, because +he is irresistibly human. Gordon was a personality. His preparatory +school master said of him once: "He will be a great failure or a great +success, perhaps both," and it was the truest thing ever said of him. At +present the future was very uncertain. During his first year he had been +imbibing knowledge from his contemporaries; he had been a spectator; now +the time had come for him to take his part in the drama of Fernhurst +life. All ignorant he went his way; careless, arrogant and proud. + +It must be owned that during this year Gordon was rather an +objectionable person. He was very much above himself. For five years he +had been tightly held in check, and when freedom at last came he did not +quite know how to use it. He was boisterous and noisy; always in the +middle of everything. If ever there was a row in the studies, it would +be a sure assumption that Caruthers was mixed up in it. Everything +combined to give him a slack time. + +Ferguson was head of the House. But he took only a casual interest in +its welfare. + +"My dear Betteridge," he used to say, "if you were aware of the large +issues of art and life, you would see that it would be a mere waste of +time worrying about such a little thing as discipline in a house. You +should widen your intellectual horizon. Read Verlaine and Baudelaire and +then see life as it is." + +Ferguson was a poet; twice a term the school magazine was enriched with +a poem from his pen. His last effort was called _Languor_, and opened +with the line: + + "In amber dreams of amorous despair." + +"The Bull" had asked someone in his house what the thing meant. To +Ferguson that seemed a high compliment. To be incoherent was a great +gift. Swinburne often meant very little, and in his heart of hearts +Ferguson thought _Languor_ was, on the whole, more melodious than +_Dolores_. But that was, of course, purely a matter of opinion. At any +rate, it was a fine composition; and a poet must not dabble in the +common intrigues of little minds. + +He let the House go its own sweet way; and the House was grateful, and +gave Ferguson the reputation of being rather a sport. There were no more +weekly orders; no more cleaning of corps clothes. There was at last +peace in Jerusalem, and plenteousness within her palaces. + +Simonds was captain of the House. He was working hard for a History +scholarship, and could not spend much time in looking after House games. +There would be tons of time in the Easter term to train on House sides. +So he, too, let things slide, and the House lived a happy life. Those +who wanted to play footer, played; those who wanted to work, worked; +those who wished to do nothing, did nothing. A cheerful philosophy. For +a week it worked quite well. + +Gordon was lucky enough to find himself in the position of not only not +wanting to work, but also not having to. He had got his promotion into +V. A, and found it a land of milk and honey. Macdonald, his form master, +was one of the most splendid men Fernhurst has ever owned on its staff. +For over forty years he had sat in exactly the same chair, and watched +generation after generation pass, without appearing the least bit older. +He grew a little stout, perhaps. But his heart was the same. It took a +lot to trouble him. He realised that the world was too full of sceptics +and cynics, and swore that he would not number himself among them. He +was now the senior assistant master and the best scholar on the staff. + +"You know, these young men aren't what we were," he used to say to his +form; "not one of them can write a decent copy of Latin verses. All +these Cambridge men are useless--useless!" In his form it was +unnecessary to work very hard; but in it the average boy learnt more +than he learnt anywhere else. For Macdonald was essentially a scholar; +he did not merely mug up notes by German commentators an hour before the +lesson. For him the classics lived; and he made his form realise this. +To do Aristophanes with him was far better than any music hall. Horace +he hated. One day when they were doing _Donec gratus eram tibi_, he +burst out with wrath: + +"Horrible little cad he was! Can't you see him? Small man, blue nose +with too much drinking. Bibulous little beast. If I had been Lydia I +would have smacked his face and told him to go to Chloe. I'd have had +done with him. Beastly little cad!" + +But it was in history that he was at his best. It was a noble sight to +see him imitate the weak-kneed, slobbering James I; and he had the +private scandals of Henry VIII at his finger-tips. For all commentators +he had a profound contempt. One day he seized Farrar's edition of _St +Luke_, and holding it at arm's-length between his finger and thumb, +shook it before the form. + +"Filth," he cried, "filth and garbage; take it away and put it down the +water-closet." He had a genius for spontaneous comments. Kennedy was +very nervous; and whenever he said his rep. he used to hold the seat of +his trousers. + +"Man, man!" Macdonald shouted out, "you won't be able to draw any +inspiration from your stern." + +His form would be in a continuous roar of laughter all day long; and +when particularly pleased it always rubbed its feet on the floor, a +strange custom that had lasted many years. Claremont's form-room was +situated just above him, and he could often hardly hear himself speak. +He used to complain bitterly. + +"How I wish my jovial colleague down below would keep his form a little +more in order." + +But Macdonald got his revenge one day when Claremont was reciting +Macbeth's final speech fortissimo to his form. + +"Hush!" said Macdonald. "We must listen to this." Suddenly he chuckled +to himself: "And do you think he really imagines he is doing any good to +his form by giving that nigger minstrel entertainment up there?" + +The roar of laughter that followed quite spoilt the effect of the +recitation. Work became quite impossible in V.B. + +It was about this time that the House began to interest itself in the +welfare of Rudd. Rudd was the senior scholar of the year before, and he +looked like it. He was fairly tall and very thin. His legs bore little +relation to the rest of his body. They fell into place. He was of a +dusky countenance, partly because he was of Byzantine origin, partly +because he never shaved, chiefly because he did not wash. His clothes +always looked as if they had been rolled up into a bundle and used for +dormitory football. Perhaps they had. Rudd was not really a bad fellow. +He was by way of being a wit. One day the Chief had set the form a +three-hour Divinity paper, consisting of four longish questions. One +was: "Do you consider that the teaching of Socrates was in some respects +more truly Christian than that of St Paul?" Rudd showed up a whole sheet +with one word on it: "Yes." Next day his Sixth Form privileges were +taken away. But the House took little notice of his academic audacities. +Rudd did not wash; he was an insanitary nuisance; moreover, he did not +play footer. + +"That man Rudd is a disgrace to the House," Archie announced one evening +after tea; "he's useless to the House; he slacks at rugger and is +unclean. Let's ship his study." There was a buzz of assent. There was a +good deal of rowdyism going on in the House just then; and at times it +would have been hard to draw the exact borderline between ragging and +bullying. A solemn procession moved to Study No. 14. Rudd was working. + +"Hullo, Byzantium," said Mansell. "How goes it?" + +"Oh, get out, you; I want to work!" + +"Gentlemen, Mr Rudd wishes to work," Betteridge announced. "The question +is, shall he be allowed to? I say 'No!'" He suddenly jerked away the +chair Rudd was sitting on: the owner of the study collapsed on the +floor. + +Archie at once loosed a tremendous kick at his back. + +"Get up, you dirty swine! Haven't you any manners? Stand up when you are +talking to gentlemen." + +Rudd had a short temper; he let out and caught Mansell on the chin. It +is no fun ragging a man who doesn't lose his temper. But, as far as +Mansell was concerned, proceedings were less cordial after this. He +leapt on Rudd, bore him to the ground, and sat on his head. Foul +language was audible from the bottom of the floor. Rudd had not studied +Euripides for nothing. Lovelace picked up a hockey stick. "This, +gentlemen," he began, "is a hockey stick, useful as an implement of +offence if the prisoner gets above himself, and also useful as a means +of destroying worthless property. I ask you, gentlemen, it is right +that, while we should have only three chairs among two people, Rudd +should have two all to himself? Gentlemen, I propose to destroy that +chair." + +In a few minutes the chair was in fragments. A crowd began to collect. + +"I say, you men," shouted Gordon, "the refuse heap is just opposite; +let's transfer all the waste paper of the last ten years and bury the +offender." + +Just across the passage was a long, blind-alley effect running under the +stairs, which was used as a store for waste paper. It was cleaned out +about once every generation. In a few minutes waste-paper baskets had +been "bagged" from adjoining studies, and No. 14 was about a foot deep +in paper. + +"That table is taking up too much room, Lovelace," Bradford bawled out; +"smash it up." + +The table went to join the chair in the Elysian Fields. Rudd was now +almost entirely immersed in paper. The noise was becoming excessive. +Oaths floated down the passage. + +At last Ferguson moved. In a blase way he strolled down the passage. For +a minute he was an amused spectator, then he said languidly: "Suppose we +consider the meeting adjourned. I think it's nearly half-time." +Gradually the crowd began to clear; Rudd rose out of the paper like +Venus out of the water. A roar of laughter broke out. + +"Well, Rudd, I sincerely hope you are insured," murmured Ferguson. + +What Rudd said is unprintable. In his bill at the end of the term his +father found there was a charge of ten shillings for damaged property in +Study No. 14. Rudd got less pocket-money the next term. + + * * * * * + +"I say, you fellows, have you heard the latest? 'The Bull' has kicked me +out of the Colts." + +Lovelace came into the changing-room, fuming with rage. There had been a +Colts' trial that afternoon. Buller had cursed furiously and finally +booted Lovelace off the field, with some murmured remarks about "typical +School House slackness." + +"It's damned rot," said Bradford. "Because Simonds has made rather an +ass of himself in the last two matches, Bull thinks the whole House is +slack. He gave Turner six to-day just because he hadn't looked up one +word. I hope he doesn't intend to judge the whole House by Simonds." + +The House was getting fed up with Simonds. It was all very well working +in moderation for scholarships, but when it came to allowing games to +suffer, things were getting serious. Private inclination cannot stand in +the way of the real business of life. And no one would hesitate to own +that he had come to Fernhurst mainly to play footer. + +"But, you know, I don't think 'the Bull's' that sort," Gordon protested; +"he may lose his temper and all that, but I think he's fair." + +"Do you?" said Hunter drily. + +There was a laugh. As a whole, the House was certain that "the Bull" was +against them. + +In a week's time Lovelace was back again in the Colts, and Gordon was +telling his friends what fools they were not to trust "the Bull." + + * * * * * + +Gordon was confirmed this term. He was rather young; but it was +obviously the thing to do, and, as Mansell said: "It's best to take the +oath when you are more or less 'pi,' and there is still some chance of +remaining so. You can't tell what you will be like in a year or so." + +As is the case with most boys, Confirmation had very little effect on +Gordon. He was not an atheist; he accepted Christianity in much the same +way that he accepted the Conservative party. All the best people +believed in it, so it was bound to be all right; but at the same time it +had not the slightest influence over his actions. If he had any religion +at this time it was House football; but for the most part, he lived +merely to enjoy himself, and his pleasures were, on the whole, +innocuous. They very rarely went much beyond ragging Rudd. + +"Do you think," said Gordon, the evening after his first confirmation +address, "that the masters really believe confirmation has any effect on +us? Because you know it doesn't." + +"I don't think it matters very much what masters think," said Hunter; +"most of them here have got into a groove. They believe the things they +ought to believe; they are all copies of the same type. They've clean +forgotten what it was like at school. Hardly any of them really know +boys. They go on happily believing them 'perhaps a little excitable, but +on the whole, perfectly straight and honest.' Then a row comes. They are +horrified. They don't realise all of us are the same. They've made +themselves believe what they want to believe." + +"Yes, and when they are told the truth, they won't believe it," said +Betteridge. "You know, I was reading an article in some paper the other +day, by an assistant master at Winchborough, called Ferrers. He was +cursing the whole system. I showed it to Claremont, just for a rag; told +him I thought it was rather good. The old fool looked at it for some +time, and then said: 'Well, Betteridge, don't form your style on this. +It is very perfervid stuff. Not always grammatical.' All the ass thinks +of is whether plurals agree with singulars; he does not care a damn +whether the material is good." + +"That's it," said Gordon. "Masters try to make you imitate, and not +think for yourself. 'Mould your Latin verses on Vergil, your Greek prose +on Thucydides, your English on Matthew Arnold, but don't think for +yourself. Don't be original.' If anyone big began to think he'd see what +a farce it all is; and then where would all these fossils be? It's all +sham; look at the reports. Bradford gets told he's a good moral +influence. Mansell works hard and deserves his prize. It is hoped that +confirmation will be a help to me. Rot, it all is!" + +"Oh, I'm not so certain confirmation is a farce," broke in Bradford. "If +you don't believe in it, you won't get to heaven." + +"But who the hell wants to get there," said Mansell. "Sing hymns all day +long. I can imagine it. Fancy having Caruthers singing out of tune in +your ear for ever. It's bad enough in chapel once a day. But for +ever----!" + +"My good lads, you don't know what heaven's like," whispered Bradford +confidentially. "Claremont was gassing away about Browning the other +day, and said that he believed that in heaven you could do all the +things you wanted to do on earth! And by Jove I would have a hot +time--some place, heaven!" + +"By Jove, yes; but you know, Bradford, there won't be much left for you +to do in heaven; at the rate you are going you will have done most +things on earth." + +"Oh, I am going to reform, and then I shall write to Claremont and tell +him how I, a wandering sheep, was brought home by his interpretation of +Andrew Dol Portio--I think that's what the thing was called." + +"Of course, that is an idea," said Mansell, "but I am not so sure of +what's going to happen when we're dead. I am going to have a jolly good +time, and then take the risk. I never hedge my bets." + +"Well, you may go on your way to the eternal bonfire," said Bradford, +"but I am for righteousness. Now, listen to this, it's in the book we +have to read for confirmagers, _Daily Lies on the Daily Path_: '... If +you think that in your house things are being talked about that would +shock your mother or sister, don't merely shun it as something vile. It +is your duty to fight against it; reason with the boys. They probably +have some grain of decency left in them. If that fails, report the +matter to your house master. He will take your side. The boys will +probably be expelled, but you will have done your duty, as Solomon says +in Proverbs....' There now, Mansell. I am one of the children of light. +So you know what to expect from me. Shall I reason with you, lad? Have +you a grain of decency left in you, or must I----" + +At this point a well-aimed cushion put an end to the fervour of the new +child of light. Betteridge sat on his head. + +"Look here, Bradford," he began, "you may be a convert and all that, but +don't play John the Baptist in here. It does not pay. Very shortly I +shall carry your head to the dustbin in a saucer. Let me tell you the +story of one Stevenson in Mr Macdonald's house. He was, like you, about +to be confirmed, and was, like you, very full of himself. And being, as +Lovelace, a lover of the race-course, he walked about in his study in +hall, chanting us a dirge out of sheer religious fervour: 'My name is +down for the confirmation stakes.' Macdonald passed the door and, on +hearing him, entered and said: 'Well you are scratched now at any rate! +'Take that to heart, and be not as the seeds that are sown on stony +ground, who spring up in the night and wither in the morning." + +Betteridge intoned the whole lecture. The story was in a way true, but +the Stevenson in question had shouted down the passage: "Hurrah, no +prep. to-night; my name is down for the confirmation stakes." With the +result as above. Gordon burst out: + +"By the way, talking of Macdonald, he made a priceless remark to-day. +Kennedy, that little cove in Christy's, came in late and began +stammering out that it was only a minute or two over time; Macdonald +looked on him for a minute, and then said: 'Your excuse is just about as +good as the woman's who, having had an illegitimate baby, protested that +it was only a small one.'" + +"By Jove, he's some fellow. Now he's a man," said Mansell. "He's a boy +still; he can see our side of the question, and he knows what footling +idiots half of the common room are. If we had more like him." ... + +"And it would be a jolly good thing, too," said Betteridge, "if we could +get a really young master like that Winchborough man, Ferrers, I was +telling you about. He'd stir things up a bit." + +At that moment the Abbey sounded half-past eight. + +"Good Lord," said Hunter, "only quarter of an hour more, and we've done +nothing the whole of hall. Let's rout out Lovelace and go and rag Rudd." + +In three minutes Rudd was under the table, with Mansell seated on his +chest. + +It was rather unfortunate that Gordon should have chosen Tester to have +a study with. Tester was over sixteen, was in the Lower Sixth, and had +got his Seconds at cricket. He was a House blood. Gordon did not care +for him particularly. But he had a good study, No. 1, at the far end of +the lower landing, and Gordon wanted a big study. It was so very fine to +sit chatting to Foster or Collins in one of the small studies for a +little time and then to say suddenly, in a lordly manner: "Oh, look +here, there's no room here at all. Come down to my study, there are +several arm-chairs there!" + +It is always pleasant to appear better than one's equals. But Tester was +a dangerous friend to have at a time when the mind is so open to +impressions. For Tester had not risen to his position on his own merits +alone. Lovelace major had always said he was not much good, and the year +before had not given him his House cap. But Tester was a very great +friend of Stewart's, the captain of the Eleven. Stewart gave him his +Seconds for making twenty against the town, so Meredith had to give him +his House cap. It is a school rule that a "Seconds" must have his House +cap. Tester was not improved by his friendship with Stewart, and the +pity was that he was really clever. He could always argue his case. + +"I never asked to be brought into this world," he said, "I am just +suddenly put here, and told to make the best of things; and I intend to +make the best of things. I am going to do what I like with my life. +Wrong and right are merely relative terms. They change to fit their +environment. Baudelaire would not have been tolerated in the Hampstead +Garden Suburb; Catullus would not have been received in Sparta. But at +Paris and Rome customs were different. We only frame philosophies to +suit our wishes. And I prefer to follow my own inclinations to those of +a sham twentieth-century civilisation." + +Gordon did not like this; but if one lives daily in the company of a man +who is clever and a personality, one is bound to look at life, at times, +at any rate, through his spectacles. Gordon began to look on things +which he once objected to as quite natural and ordinary. + +"I say, Caruthers, I hope you don't mind clearing out of here for a +bit," Tester would say. "Stapleton is coming in for a few minutes. You +quite understand, don't you?" + +As soon as we begin to look on a thing as ordinary and natural, we also +begin to think it is right. After a little Gordon ceased to worry +whether such things were right or wrong. It was silly to quarrel with +existing conditions, especially if they were rather pleasant ones. +Gordon had a study with Tester till the end of the summer. + +One day, towards the end of the Easter term, Gordon asked Tester, rather +shyly, if he would leave him alone a little. "I've often cleared out for +you, you know." + +"Of course, that's quite all right, my dear fellow. Any time you like, I +understand!" Tester smiled as he walked down the passage. + +But during the winter term Gordon worried about little except football; +when he was not playing, he was ragging. Form he looked on as a glorious +recreation. He was learning more than he ever learned afterwards without +making much effort. Macdonald was a scholar; he did not teach people by +making them work, he taught them by making it impossible for them to +forget what he told them. No one who has ever been through the Upper +Fifth at Fernhurst would have the slightest difficulty in writing a +character sketch of any English king, even though he might never have +read a chapter about him. Macdonald made every man in history a living +character; not a sort of rack on which to hang dates and facts. + +Football, however, was not going quite so satisfactorily. Gordon was +never tried for the Colts Fifteen, although he subsequently proved +himself better than most of the other forwards in it, and had to play in +House games every day. Once a week a House game is a thundering good +game, but more often it is one-sided, and for a person who really cares +for footer, such afternoons are very dull. On the Upper or Lower a good +game was certain; the captain of the school always chose sides that +would be fairly level. But House sides were different. Nothing depended +on their results. Sometimes bloods would play, sometimes not; it was a +toss up. And worst of all, Simonds was abominably slack. For a few weeks +the House thought it rather funny, and the smaller members of the House +secretly rejoiced; but the games-loving set waxed furious. + +"Damn it all," said Mansell, "the man's here to coach us, not to sit in +his study sweating up dates!" + +The result of it was that Mansell and his friends got filled with an +enormous sense of their own importance; they considered themselves the +only people in the House who were keen. And they let the rest of the +House know it. They groused about "the great days of Lovelace," and gave +people like Rudd a most godless time. There is no more thoroughly +self-satisfied person than the second-class athlete; and when he also +imagines himself an Isaiah preaching repentance, he wants kicking badly. +Unfortunately no one kicked Gordon or Lovelace; and they went on their +way contented with themselves, though with no one else. + + * * * * * + +One of the easiest ways of discovering a person's social status at +school is by watching his behaviour in the tuck-shop. The tuck-shop or +"Toe," as it is generally called, is a long wooden building with +corrugated iron roof, situated just opposite Buller's house, not far +from the new buildings. It is divided by a wooden partition into two +shops; at each end of the outer shop run two counters. On the right-hand +counter, which is connected with a small kitchen, cakes, muffins and +sausages are sold; on the left-hand side there are sweets and fruit. The +inner and larger room is filled with tables, and round the room are +photographs of all the school teams. At the far end, in huge green +frames, are hung photographs of the two great Fernhurst Fifteens who +went through the season without losing a match. The "Toe" is the +noisiest place in the whole school. It is superintended by five +waitresses, and they have a very poor time of it. + +The real blood is easily recognised. He strolls in as if he had taken a +mortgage on the place, swaggers into the inner room, puts down his books +on the top table in the right-hand corner--only the bloods sit here--and +demands a cup of tea and a macaroon. A special counter has been made by +the bloods' table, so that the great men can order what they want +without going back into the outer shop. No real blood ever makes a noise +in the outer shop. When he is once inside the inner shop, however, he +immediately lets everyone know it. If he sees anyone he knows, he bawls +out: + +"I say, have you prepared this stuff for Christy?" + +The person asked never has. + +"Nor have I. Rot, I call it." + +No blood is ever known to have prepared anything. + +The big man then sits down. If a friend of his is anywhere about, he +flings a lump of sugar at him. When he gets up he knocks over at least +one chair. He then strolls out, observing the same magnificent dignity +in the outer shop. No one can mistake him. + +But the only other person who makes no row in the outer shop is the +small boy, who creeps in, and creeps out, unnoticed. Everyone with any +claim to greatness asserts his presence loudly. The chief figures at +this time were the junior members of Buller's, and especially the two +Hazlitts. Their elder brother was the school winger, and an important +person; but they had done nothing but make a noise during their two +years at Fernhurst. Athleticism had had a disastrous effect on them. +Because their house had won the Thirds, Two Cock and Three Cock, they +thought themselves gods. In the tuck-shop they acted as avenging angels +sent to punish a wicked world. Their chief amusement was to see a person +leaning over a counter, kick his backside when he was not looking, and +then run away. It was their class that were the real nuisance in the +"Toe." They persecuted the girls in charge most damnably. Very often +only one girl was in charge. The younger Hazlitt would at once seat +himself on the other counter and shriek out: + +"Nellie, when are you coming over here? I shall bag these sweets if you +don't buck up." He would then seize a huge glass jar of peppermints, and +roll it along the zinc counter. + +"Oh, Mr Hazlitt, do leave that alone," the wretched Nellie would +implore. But it was no use. When there was a big crowd waiting to be +served, the Hazlitt brethren would take knives and beat on the zinc +counter, shouting out: "Nellie, come here!" They were a thoroughly +objectionable pair. Whenever Mansell saw them, he kicked them hard, and +they got rather frightened of the School House after a bit. + +It is not to be thought, however, that the behaviour of the School House +was exemplary. Mansell usually kicked up an almighty row, but he left +"Nellie" alone. He was not going to lower himself to the Hazlitt level. + +It is an amazing thing that the half-blood very rarely gets into a row; +and yet he always talks as if expulsion hung over his head. Probably he +thinks it draws attention to himself. Mansell would always enter the +shop in exactly the same way; he banged his books on the counter and, +sighting Hunter, fired off at once. + +"I say, look here, give me a con. I am in the hell of a hole. I prepared +the wrong stuff for old Claremont, and the man's getting awfully sick +with me; he may report me to the Chief. Do help me out!" + +"Sorry, old cock," said Hunter, "but I specialise in stinks!" + +"Oh, do you! Well, I suppose I shall have to chance it; that's all. He +may not shove me on." + +The small boys thought Mansell's daring very fine. But strangely +enough, although he was always in a state of fearful agitation, he had +so far singularly managed to avoid getting reported. But still it kept +up appearances to talk a lot. + +Gordon, of course, had to be fairly quiet in the tuck-shop. He was not +yet known among the school in general; and it was only in Buller's that +small boys gave tongue in the tuck-shop. But then Buller's were, in +their own opinion, to the rest of the School as Rome was to Italy. +Fernhurst was merely a province of Buller's. They kept this view to +themselves, however. "The Bull" would have dealt very summarily with +such assumptions. + +And so, when Lovelace and Tester and Mansell were there Gordon was +generally to be found contributing his share to the general disorder, +but when alone, he sat quite quietly with Collins and Foster. He rather +longed for the day when he could start a row all on his own. A strange +ambition for any candidate for immortality! + + * * * * * + +About the middle of the term was the field day at Salisbury Plain. Most +of the Public Schools were present; it was a noble affair from the +general's point of view. The school, however, considered it a putrid +sweat. For hours they pounded over ploughed fields and the day dragged +slowly on to its weary close and two hundred very tired privates at last +fell into a six-fifty train. + +Two days later a notice was brought round by the school _custos_: "Roll +for all those who went to Salisbury Plain on Wednesday in the big +schoolroom at six P.M." There is nothing quite so enjoyable as +the sensation that a big row is on, in which you yourself have no part. +Gordon trembled with excitement. He whispered excitedly to the man on +his left, Lidderdale, a man in Rogers': "What's up?" + +"Oh, nothing much. Some silly ass put his bayonet through a carriage +window. Rogers was gassing about it in the dormitories last night." + +"Oh!" said Gordon. Very disappointedly he returned to his academic +activities. He had had hopes of some splendid row, and after all, it was +only about a silly ass and a bayonet. Rotten! Fancy being made late for +tea because of that. But, as it turned out, his hopes were satisfied. +When he reached the big schoolroom, everything certainly looked most +formal. In front of the big dais where the choir stood during the +concerts sat all the masters in a half-circle. The Chief sat in the +centre. + +"Are they all here, Udal?" the Chief asked the senior sergeant. + +"Yes, sir." + +The Chief rose. + +"I have to address you to-night on a very serious subject. During the +field day last Wednesday, someone in this room disgraced not only his +school, but the King's uniform. An officer from another school has +written to tell me that he overheard two of you talking outside the +canteen in language that would disgrace a costermonger. I sincerely wish +he had taken their names at once. As it is, I do not know their names. +The officer in question said that both boys were over seventeen, and +that the shorter of the two said nothing at all, as far as he could +hear. Now I want the names of both those boys. If they own up to me +to-night, I shall most certainly deal very severely with one at least of +them. If they do not come to me of their own free will, I may be forced +to ask the officer to come down and identify the boys, in which case +both will from that instant cease to be members of Fernhurst School." + +In a state of high excitement the school poured down to tea. + +"I bet it's someone in Christy's," said Bradford. + +Christy believed in leaving his house entirely to his prefects. It was a +good way of avoiding responsibility; but his choice of prefects was not +altogether wise. + +"Do you think the men will own up?" said Gordon. + +"Not unless they're most abandoned fools," replied Lovelace. + +There was only one topic of conversation at tea, and afterwards +Lovelace, Hobson and Gordon discussed the affair keenly in No. 1. They +all agreed that the men would not own up, and the general opinion was +that someone in Christy's was responsible. Discussion raged fiercely as +to who it was. Gordon was all for it being Isaacs, Lovelace for +Everington, Hunter for Mead. The point was being debated, when Tester +and Bradford came in. + +"Hullo, come in," shouted Gordon, "we are having a great fight about +this. I say Isaacs is the most likely man. What do you think?" + +Tester looked round carefully, and then began anxiously: + +"Look here, you men; swear you won't tell a soul if we tell you +something." + +The oath was taken. + +"Well, it's us!" + +There was a hush. "Good Gawd!" said Hunter. Silence ensued; but +curiosity soon overcame surprise. + +"What did you say, by the by?" asked Gordon. + +Tester repeated as far as he could remember the exact words. + +"Yes, you know; it was a bit hot, wasn't it? I expect you opened the +blighter's eyes a bit. He wasn't used to that sort of literature." + +In spite of themselves Tester and Bradford laughed. They had been +vaguely aware of a tired-looking figure in a Sam Browne as they left the +canteen. He had looked "some ass." But Gordon soon became serious again. + +"What are you men going to do? Of course you won't own up." + +"We can't very well. I am in the Sixth and Bradford's had one row this +term, and of course, I was the criminal. I am supposed to be a +responsible personage." + +"Of course, owning up's out of the question." + +"But do you think anything will happen?" Bradford was a little +frightened. "I mean will there be a sort of general inspection?" + +"You bet there won't. When a master begs men to own up, it means that +he's up the spout. It's much more fun catching a fellow red-handed. And, +after all, you two are the last people anyone would think of." + +"Of course, it's all right," said Lovelace; "there's only one thing to +do. You talk of nothing else but this rotten affair; talk about it in +the Toe, in the changing-room, in form, in chapel, if you like. Ask +people you meet if they've owned up. Treat the whole thing as a glorious +rag." + +"Yes," shouted Gordon, "let's go down to Rudd and tell him if he doesn't +own up we'll give him hell." + +And in truth the next half-hour was for Rudd very hell of very hell. His +existence just now was not very pleasant. If he had been good at footer +all his domestic failings would have been forgiven him. But he was not; +he loathed the game, though at times he would have given anything to be +of some use. Strangely enough, at Oxford he found people respected his +brains, and no one hated him because he could not drop goals from the +twenty-five. Life is full of compensations. + +Lovelace and Tester were both supreme actors. That night in the +dormitory they were full of the subject. After lights out, they kept the +whole place in a roar of laughter. Bradford joined in a bit, but he was +still nervous; visions rose up before him of an officer passing down the +ranks, suddenly seizing him, and saying: "This is the man." It was +hardly a ravishing thought; but it was useless to go back on a lie. +Tester realised this. As Ferguson came through he called out: + +"I say, Ferguson, you know you'd better go up to the Chief and tell him +you did it." + +Ferguson was, like the Boy Scout, always prepared. + +"My good man, you don't surely imagine I am so devoid of good feeling +and have such a hazy conception of the higher life as not to inform the +Headmaster. I have just returned from breaking the news to him. He took +it quite well on the whole. It was a touching scene. I nearly wept." + +Betteridge then arose, and gave an imitation of a Rogers' sermon. + +"Well, Ferguson, I must own that I am sorry to lose you. I would give +much to retain you here. But _dis aliter visum_: you must go. You are +expelled. Between the Scylla of over-elation and the Charybdis of +despair you have a long time steered the bark of the School House. But +one failing wipes away many virtues. And we must not discriminate +between the doer and the deed, the actor and the action, the sinner and +the sin. The same punishment for all. But in that paradisal state where +suns sink not nor flowers fade, there will be a sweet reunion." + +It was pure Rogers. The dormitory rocked with laughter. Tester began to +give his impressions of what the officer must have looked like. There +was a heated argument as to whether he was a parson. Mansell thought +not. + +"A fellow who knows his Bible well would not be shocked with a little +swearing. I bet some of the bits in Genesis and Samuel are hotter than +anything the blighter said. It was probably some dotard who reads +Keats." + +This seemed a sound piece of reasoning. + +Next day the rumour spread round the school that a half-holiday was +going to be stopped, as no one had owned up. + +"Safety," said Tester. "That means the chase is given up." + +But the school, which, up to now, had treated the affair as a joke, +began to get annoyed. Tolerance and broadmindedness were all right as +long as their own interests were secure; but when it came to a +half-holiday being stopped because some blighter had not the decency to +own up---- + +"It's a scandal," said Fletcher, in front of the House studies. "First +this blighter does the school a lot of harm by swearing; and then he is +in too much of a funk to own up, and we get in a row for it. Man must be +a colossal swine." + +He forgot that last night he had been treating the whole thing as a +joke. Rogers was passing by up the Headmaster's drive on the way to his +class-room, and overheard this outburst of righteous indignation. His +heart was rejoiced to see such a good moral tone in the school. As he +said in the common room: "It makes one proud to see what a sane, +unprejudiced view the school takes of this unsavoury incident." + +Lovelace now hit on a great plan. "Let's organise a strike. Why should +we go into school to-morrow? If we can get enough to cut, we can't be +punished. Let's canvass." + +The fiery cross of rebellion was flung down the study passages. With +lists of paper in their hands, Hunter, Mansell, Lovelace and Gordon +(Tester thought himself too big a blood for such a proceeding) dashed +into study after study urging their inhabitants to sign on for the great +strike. + +"Come on, you men," Hunter said. "It is the idea of a lifetime. If +enough don't turn up, nothing can happen. You can't sack the whole +school." + +A few bright rebels like Archie Fletcher signed on at once. Rudd, too, +thought it safer to put his name down. But the average person was more +cautious. + +"How many have you got down?" + +"Oh, about fifteen." + +"Well, look here, if you get over fifty I'll join in." + +As nearly everyone said this, the hopes of successful operations seemed +unlikely. + +But still it all helped to disarm any trace of suspicion. + +"I say, Ferguson, what do you think of all this?" said Mansell. + +"I think a great creed has gone down. I shall no longer believe that +conscience and cowardice are synonymous; only conscience is the trade +name of the firm." + +Mansell laughed. It was probably meant to be funny. He never quite +understood Ferguson. On the next afternoon everyone sat down to two +hours' extra school. There was much swearing at tea. But in a day or two +it was all forgotten. + +To this day no one at Fernhurst knows who the two boys were. The secret +was well kept. + + * * * * * + +As the term drew to its close, with the Fifteen filled up and all the +big matches over, interest was centred mainly in House football and +House affairs. Mansell, it is true, was still worrying whether he would +get his Seconds. But Lovelace and Gordon talked of nothing but the +Thirds. The Colts' matches were over, and on House games one of the two +House sides was always a trial Thirds. Edwards, a heavy, clumsy +scrum-half, was captain of the side; Gordon led the scrum. + +"If only we had Armour back as House captain," Hunter used to complain, +"that side couldn't lose." + +"And we sha'n't lose either," said Gordon; "we are going to sweep the +field next term, and we are going to drive the ball over the line +somehow, and God save anyone who gets in the light." + +No House side ever imagines it is going to be beaten. Three Cocks have +been lost by over fifty points; yet on the morning of the match half the +"grovel" would be quite ready to lay heavy odds on their chance of +winning, and whenever there is a good chance of victory, the House is +absolutely cocksure. The result of this is that the House is magnificent +in an uphill fight, but is rather liable to fling away a victory by +carelessness. + +But this side was certainly "pretty hot stuff." It took a lot to stop +Stewart when once he got the ball, and Lovelace was brilliant in attack. +The grovel was light, and was a little inclined to wing, but in the +loose it was a big scoring combination. In the last week of the term +there was a House game on, the Lower _v._ Buller's. Simonds turned out +the Thirds side. It was a terrific fight. Buller's had two Seconds +playing and a House cap; but the House had had the advantage of having +played together. There was, at this time, a good deal of bad blood +between the House and Buller's, and the play was not always quite clean. +There was a good deal of fisting in the scrum. Gordon was in great form; +he scored the first try with a long dribble, and led the pack well. +Lovelace dropped a goal from a mark nearly midway between the +twenty-five and the half-way line. Collins scrambled over the corner +from a line out. Buller's only scored once, when Aspinall, their wing +three, who had his Seconds, got a decent pass, and ran practically the +whole length of the field. Towards the end, however, the light House +grovel got tired and was penned in its own half. "Come on, House," +Gordon yelled. "One more rush; let the swine have it!" The House was +exhausted, it managed to keep Buller's out; but no more. This was an +ominous sign. It had not been a long game. + +"The Bull" had been watching the game. As the players trooped off the +field, he called back Gordon. "Caruthers, here a second. You know, I +don't want to interfere where it's not my business, but I don't think +you should call another house 'swine.' To begin with, it's not the +English idea of sport, and if there's any ill feeling between two houses +in a school, especially the two biggest, it's not good for the school. +Do you see what I mean?" + +"Oh yes, sir. I didn't mean----" + +"Of course you didn't, my dear chap.... By the way; will you be young +enough for the Colts' next year? You will. Good. Then it won't be at all +a bad side. Collins and Foster were quite good; and you played a really +good game." + +"What did 'the Bull' want, Caruthers?" Lovelace asked as Gordon walked +into the changing-room. + +"Oh, nothing much. He didn't like me calling his fellows 'swine.'" + +"But why the devil not? They are swine, aren't they?" + +"Of course they are; but you can hardly expect 'the Bull' to realise +it." + +"No, perhaps not; but, my God, they are the last thing in swine, those +Hazlitts and their crowd." + +The House supper this year was not much, compared with the one of the +year before. Simonds was not an R.D. Lovelace, and Ferguson again spoke +miles above his audience. However, he was a sport, and let them do as +they liked; so they drank his health and sang: _He's a Jolly Good +Fellow!_ Several old boys came down, FitzMorris with an eyeglass and a +wonderful tie; Sandham, as usual, quite insignificant; Armour wearing +the blue waistcoat of a Wadham drinking club. Meredith had been +expected, but at the last moment he had found his debts so much in +excess of a very generous allowance that he would have to retrench a +little. It was a pity; but in the Bullingdon living is not cheap and +Meredith was a great blood. + +The prize-giving this term afforded little comfort to Gordon; he was +easily bottom of V.A. Rather a collapse, but still one has to keep up +with things. It does not do to lose sight of the really important issues +of life, and Gordon had certainly been a social success. He travelled up +to London with Ferguson and Tester, and felt no small part of a giant +when Collins entered their carriage, suddenly saw Ferguson, and with +inaudible apologies vanished quickly down the corridor. Olympus was not +so very far off. + + + + +CHAPTER II: HEALTHY PHILISTINISM + + +During the Christmas holidays there appeared in a certain periodical one +of the usual attacks on the Public School system. It repeated all the +old arguments about keeping abreast of the times, and doing more modern +languages and less classics. The writer had nothing new to say, and, +like most other such attacks, his jeremiad was in an hour or two +forgotten. But at Fernhurst it did have some effect, for it gave Henry +Trundle the idea of forming a special class for French enthusiasts. +Henry Trundle was one of the French masters. He was entirely English, +had won his Blue for golf at Oxford, and had got a Double First. He also +was quite incapable of teaching anything. His form made no pretence of +keeping order; the noise that proceeded from his class-room could be +heard anywhere within a radius of a hundred yards. And yet he was not a +bad fellow; he was a good husband, and his children were very fond of +him. His domestic virtues, however, were sadly lost on Fernhurst, who +looked on him as a general buffoon, a hopeless ass. His class-room was +considered a sort of Y.M.C.A. entertainment hall, where there was +singing and dancing, and a mild check on excessive rioting. + +At the beginning of the new term the Chief announced that in the upper +school one hour every day would be devoted to the study of either +French, maths or Latin. Each boy would choose his subject. Mr Reddon +would superintend the maths, Mr Trundle the French; for Latin each boy +would go to his own form master. To the hard-working, who had prizes +before their eyes, this scheme presented few attractions; as scholars it +would not be to their advantage to miss any classical hours, and French +was useless in scholarships. Macdonald, when he took down the names of +those who were to do Latin, found all those in front staying with him, +and all those behind going elsewhere. Macdonald laughed up his sleeve. + +Indeed Trundle's class-room was filled with the most arrant collection +of frauds that have ever sat together this side of the Inferno. It was +largely a School House gathering. Lovelace was there; Hunter, Mansell, +Gordon, Archie and Collins. Christy's house supplied Dyke, a fine +footballer and a splendid ragger; Claremont's sent two typical dormice +in Forbes and Scobie; Buller's provided no one. Briault hailed from +Rogers. It was his boast that he could imitate any kind of animal from a +dog to a hyena. Benson, the only member of Abercrombie's, was entirely +insignificant, and actually did some work for the first two lessons. But +it was impossible to work long in such surroundings; and tales of the +extra French set are still told in whispers, after lights out, in the +upper dormitories. + +The opening was sensational. No sooner had Trundle taken his seat than +Dyke leapt to his feet, jumped on the desk, jumped off it into the vast +paper basket, upset that, charged up to Trundle, shook him by the hand, +and began to pour out words: "My dear sir, how are you? How is Mrs +Trundle, and the little Trundles? Have you had a pleasant Christmas? I +have, sir. This, sir, is your extra French set. The French set--Mr +Trundle; Mr Trundle--the French set." Amid a beating of desks Dyke +returned to his seat. Trundle was used to this. But he had rather hoped +his new set would be composed for the most part of honest young +scholars. It was a disappointment; still, he had grown used to it. Life +had not been too kind to him. + +"Now, let me see," he began, "who's the senior man here?" + +Immediately everyone except Benson stood up. "I am, sir." + +"But you can't all be the senior." + +"Yes, sir; we are," was the unanimous answer. + +"You see, sir," Gordon explained, "I am the cleverest and should be the +senior, but Mansell there, that dolt with the tie-pin, has been longer +in the school, and he's got his Seconds, and rather fancies himself. +Dyke has taken longer to reach IV. A than anyone else in the school's +history, and thinks that a sufficient claim to be senior. Lovelace, oh, +well, he's--well, I don't know what he is. Lovelace, you swine, what are +you?" + +"Confound you, man!" shouted the enraged three-quarter. "Who the +hell----" + +"Lovelace," broke in Trundle, "I think you may keep your reflections on +the future life till afterwards. We will sit in alphabetical order." + +It is incredible how long it takes for ten boys to change their places. +It was a long process. Books fell to the right and to the left. There +were murmurs of "Damn you, man, that's my grammar!" or "Confound you, +Benson!" "Where the hell is my dictionary?" Twice Benson had been sent +flying into the waste-paper basket; three times had Dyke driven a +compass into the backside of Forbes, who looked like going to sleep. To +crown everything, Briault gave his celebrated imitation of a dog-fight. +Consternation reigned. Lovelace tried to hide under Trundle's desk; +Gordon endeavoured to get through a window that was hardly a foot +square. Macdonald's class-room was just the other side of the V. A +green; he chuckled to himself. "I hoped Caruthers would enjoy himself. I +think we shall have to put him on to construe when he returns. If he +goes to music-hall shows in school time he must pay for it, you know." + +There was an immense scuffling of feet, but much louder rang the noise +of the French students. A question had arisen as to what book they +should read that term. Everyone was shouting the name of his favourite +author. "Let's do _The Little Thing_," yelled Dyke. "No; de Maupassant," +shouted Mansell, adding, in an undertone: "I saw one of his books in a +shop in Villiers Street, looked pretty hot stuff." Then louder again: +"Let's have de Maupassant." "No; _The Black Tulip_," Lovelace implored, +and went on in a stage whisper: "Now don't be silly fools, I have got a +crib of this. Have some sense." "You don't imagine we're going to +prepare the stuff, do you?" was Hunter's retort. Above the uproar +Forbes' voice drawled: "I say, if there's a French translation of _Five +Nights_, let's read that. I know the book pretty well by heart." + +It was ultimately decided to read _six contes_ by Francois Coppee; but +by the time the decision had been reached, the hour had been exhausted. +Rather sadly Trundle watched the set pour out into the cloister, +shouting and laughing. Even masters have souls. Boys don't realise this. + +Every day till the end of the term that farce continued. Sometimes +Trundle lost his temper. One day, Archie was singing: _Meet me under the +Roses_, while Gordon was giving a lively if inaccurate translation. + +"Fletcher, stop that singing!" + +"Mayn't I sing, sir?" + +"Of course not. This is a class-room." + +"Is it, sir? I thought it was a place of amusement." + +"Fifty lines, Fletcher." + +"But, sir, it is, you know----" + +"One hundred lines, Fletcher." + +"Really, sir----" + +"One hundred and fifty lines, Fletcher." + +Fletcher collapsed. Next morning a magnificent blue envelope, sealed at +every corner, arrived at Mr Trundle's house. It contained a vast +quantity of blank paper. + +"But, sir, I really thought I put in the lines. Hunter, you swine, that +is your fault. Sir, I believe Hunter stole them. He had a big imposition +for the Chief. You dirty dog, Hunter. May I kick him, sir?" + +"No; sit down, Fletcher." + +The lines were never done. + +One day Collins was put on to construe. Of course he had made no attempt +to prepare it. This was at once evident. + +"Collins, have you prepared this?" + +"No, sir." + +"But why not?" + +Collins had seen _Charley's Aunt_ in the holidays. "Ah, why?" was his +laconic answer. + +Trundle foamed with wrath. He snatched a cane from under his desk and +advanced on Collins. The prospective victim leapt back and pointed at +him with theatrical calm: "Look, he is coming at me with cane in hand. +Ha! he comes! he comes! see how he comes." + +Trundle launched a fierce blow at Collins, and only narrowly missed +Benson's eyes. Collins delivered a short lecture on the danger of losing +one's temper. Trundle returned to his desk. + +As the term went on the ragging became more elaborate. At first the set +was content with giving a sort of low comedian, knockabout performance. +But they soon wearied of such things. After all, they were real +artistes. And Archie Fletcher could not bear being ordinary. But still +there was a good deal of sport to be got out of quite common place +manoeuvres. The introduction of electric snuff, for instance, may not +be very original; but it was remarkably successful. + +Trundle had a habit of leaving his mark-book in his desk, and Lovelace +had a key that fitted it. The rest was simple. During evening hall +Hunter and Lovelace got leave to fetch a book from their class-room. +There was no one about. In five minutes Trundle's mark-book was filled +with snuff. Next morning the set assembled. Forbes was asleep, Benson +was furtively looking up a word in his dictionary, the School House +contingent was uncommonly quiet. + +"Well," said Trundle, "who shall we start off with this morning? Let me +see, ah!" he opened his mark-book. + +The roar of laughter was heard the other side of the court. For a full +three minutes Trundle was utterly, gorgeously prostrate with coughing +and sneezing. + +Mansell was very sympathetic. + +"Have you a cold, sir? I hope it's nothing serious, sir. I find the east +wind a little trying myself. Do you ever use Fletcher's cough lozenges? +Very efficacious, sir," he babbled on. + +At last Trundle recovered his wind if not his temper. He glowered at the +form. + +"Fletcher, translate, please." + +Fletcher began. But he did not get very far. Hunter let loose another +wave of snuff. The whole form was now coughing and sneezing certainly +considerably more than was necessary. + +"Next boy who sneezes I shall give a hundred lines to, and report him to +the Headmaster." + +Temporary peace ensued. It is not pleasant to be sent up to the Chief; +and weak masters have not the slightest scruple in doing so. The strong +men need not report. But a man like Archie could not be kept in order +long. He gave vent to a most unpleasant snort. + +"Fletcher, if you do that again I shall have to beat you." + +A slight pause. + +"Please, sir, may I blow my nose if I mayn't sniff?" + +"Yes, Fletcher; don't be stupid." + +Immediately there rose a chorus of "Mayn't we blow our noses, too, sir? +Why should Fletcher be the only one allowed to. It isn't fair." + +Trundle gave way, and the rest of the hour was spent entirely in +coughing, shouting and sneezing. No work was done. But that was no +unusual occurrence in the extra French set. + +This was, of course, the sort of amusement that could be only indulged +in once. It would grow stale a second time. But Briault's idea of fancy +dress was one that presented infinite opportunities and gave full scope +for originality. At first nothing very startling occurred. On a freezing +cold day the whole set would assemble without waistcoats and with their +coats wide open would complain bitterly of the heat; on a warm day they +would go in arrayed as for an Antarctic expedition in wonderful scarves +and huge gloves. + +"It's disgraceful, sir, how cold this room is," Gordon complained. "I am +very sensitive to cold, and there are two windows open. They must be +shut." + +"Well, Caruthers, if you find this room too cold," replied Trundle +sarcastically, "you may return to the warmth of your own study and write +me out the lesson ten times. Do you prefer that?" + +Trundle thought that rather smart, but Gordon was never beaten. + +"Sir, I do prefer an unfairly long imposition to an attack of +pneumonia," and with that he sailed out of the room; the "impot" was, of +course, never done. Only Benson did things for Trundle. + +From this day on to discover a new kind of dress was the aim of Archie's +life. What he advised the form always copied. One day the Chief gave out +an order that, owing to the extreme cold, woollen waistcoats would be +allowed, provided they were of a quiet colour. That night Archie +searched the studies. For sixpence he purchased from a new boy a +threadbare carpet that had not been brushed or cleaned for generations. +This he cut up into six parts, and each School House member of the set +somehow or other made for himself a waistcoat out of them. Next day, +garbed in these, they rolled sedately to Trundle's, their coats flung +open, their hands in their trouser pockets. + +Trundle sat speechless. At last he found words. + +"What is the meaning of this confounded impertinence? Collins, Mansell, +Caruthers, Hunter, Lovelace, and you Fletcher, take off that filthy +stuff." + +"That stuff, sir," drawled out Forbes. "What stuff?" + +"Don't interfere, Forbes," rapped out Trundle. "Take them off, I say." + +"Oh, do you mean our waistcoats, sir?" asked Hunter, in superbly feigned +surprise. "We couldn't take them off; we should catch a cold. The +Headmaster has just given out a notice about them. He said we could wear +them." + +"He never gave you permission to garb yourselves in the refuse of the +neighbourhood." + +"Refuse?" said Forbes. "Those waistcoats are of a most fashionable cut. +It's extremely hard to get that particular brand of cloth; my brother, +who is a member of the Bullingdon, told me----" + +"I don't want to know anything about your brother, Forbes. Take off +those things. The Headmaster would never allow them." + +"But, sir," insisted Archie. "He only said that they must be of a quiet +colour, and they are of a quiet colour, aren't they, sir?" + +In truth they were. There was not a trace of colour visible anywhere. +Trundle gave in. He murmured something about asking the Headmaster, and +then put on Archie to con. He never asked the Chief; and there was no +need for him to do so. It is not pleasant wearing dust-laden carpets for +an hour. Such jests can only be undertaken at rare intervals. + +But the culminating point was not reached till the last Thursday of the +term. It was boat-race day, and the set unanimously backed Oxford. At +ten o'clock the set was due to appear. But when Trundle arrived all he +found was Benson, who was in nervous apprehension lest he should have +come to the wrong room. If he had, he might lose some marks; and marks +were more to him than many boundaries. He smiled happily at Trundle. + +"Ah, where are the rest, Benson?" + +"I don't know, sir." + +"Oh, well, I suppose we must wait, but it is a great nuisance. I wanted +to finish the book to-day, it's our last lesson, you know." + +The next day was Good Friday. + +For ten minutes they sat in silence. It takes a long time to prepare a +big rag; the curtain very seldom goes up punctually on the first night; +and there had been no dress rehearsal. There was a sound of scuffling +from the door in the cloister which led into the School House studies. +Then came the tread of measured feet. The door opened, and the great +procession entered. + +At the head was Gordon in Ferguson's dressing-gown (a great white +confection with pale pink frogs) with a white Colts' cap on his head; he +beat time with a small swagger cane. Then came the trumpeters, Crosbie +and Forbes, who were producing strange harmonies on two pipes that they +had bagged from the armoury. Behind them Mansell walked in corps clothes +and a Second Fifteen cap. He was chanting a low dirge. On each side of +him marched the choristers, Lovelace and Hunter, in white sheets and +enormous psalters that they had borrowed from the chapel. They also sang +in a strange outlandish tongue. But the _piece de resistance_ was the +banner. It consisted of a long piece of white calico on which was +inscribed in red ink: "Up, Up, Oxford. Down with the Cantabs." (Trundle +hailed from Emmanuel.) It was fastened at each end to a hockey stick, +and Fletcher and Collins bore it in solemnly. In the rear, Briault gave +his impressions of a cow being ill. Dyke was the showman. + +"I will now present, gentlemen," he began, "my circus of touring +artistes, who are raising a fund for the endowment of the Oxford boating +club. I must beg you all----" + +But Trundle cut short the oration. Seizing a cane, he rushed into the +cavalcade of Isis, and smote out full lustily. Pandemonium broke forth. +No battle-field was more rich in groans; no revue chorus produced so +much noise. It took a quarter of an hour to obtain quiet. But at last a +motley crowd sat down to study Francois Coppee. + +And then came the _denouement_. It was entirely unexpected and entirely +unrehearsed. There was a knock outside. The door opened and an amazing +apparition appeared on the threshold. Betteridge was in the Sixth. Very +enviously the night before he had listened to the preparations and plans +of the extra French set; cursing inwardly, he had sat down at ten +o'clock to do prose with the Chief. Faintly across the court were borne +the sounds of strife. He groaned within him. Suddenly the Chief stood +up. + +"I find I shall have to leave you for a little. Some parents are coming +to interview me. I want you all to return quietly to your studies, and +continue the prose there." + +Joyfully the Sixth trooped out. Betteridge rushed across the courts to +Trundle's class-room. For a second he listened outside, then a great +idea struck him. There was still half-an-hour left. Madly he tore up to +the dormitories. Luckily they were not locked. Five minutes later he +appeared before Mr Henry Trundle entirely changed. He had on a very +light brown suit, a pair of check spats, a rainbow-coloured waistcoat, a +heliotrope bow tie; a bowler was balanced on his head at an angle of +forty-five degrees, a camera was slung round his neck, in his hand he +had a notebook and pencil. + +"Mr Trundle, I believe," he said. "I am the reporter of _The Fernhurst +Gazette_. We have received a wire that there has been a great pro-Oxford +demonstration in here, and we want to get an account of it in the stop +press news before our sister journal, _The Western Evening Transcript_. +Can you give me some notes?" + +As he stopped, the set, that had remained spellbound, burst into a +hilarious shriek of joy. Everyone heard it; even Claremont woke up and +asked what it was. Arthur, the school _custos_, talks of it to this day. + +And at this point the Chief comes into the story. He was showing the +parents in question round the studies when he heard an uproar proceeding +from somewhere near the cloisters. He excused himself from the parents, +ran downstairs, and tracked the noise to Trundle's class-room. He +entered. Never before had he seen disorder on such a generous scale. He +looked round. + +"Mr Trundle--er--what er--set is this?" + +"The extra French set, Headmaster." + +The Chief half smiled. He walked out without another word. + +Next term there was no extra French set. + +The ragging of Trundle, however, was merely regarded relaxation from the +serious business of life. In an Easter term football is the only thing +that any respectable man will really worry about. And Gordon, judged on +these grounds, and his friends with him, would most certainly pass into +the most select society circle. The Thirds this year was a terribly +perplexing problem. Simonds had not taken enough trouble with his +juniors the term before. This term he was working hard enough, but it +was a bit late in the day to begin. On the first Saturday of the term a +scratch side took sixty-five points off the prospective Thirds side. + +"If you play as badly as that on the day you'll lose by forty points," +growled Simonds, "and you'll damned well deserve a beating, too." + +"Curse the man," muttered Lovelace. "Whose bloody fault is it but his, I +should like to know? He is a disgrace to the House, working for some +rotten scholarship when he ought to be training on our juniors. Rotten +swine." + +"Well, he's pretty well all right this term, at any rate," said Gordon. +"For the Lord's sake don't go grousing about; or we sha'n't keep the +score under eighty, let alone ninety. If we lose, we lose; and, my God, +we'll make 'em play for it." + +The side certainly tried hard, and Simonds did his best, but all the +same, on the day of the match, Buller's were backing their chances of +running up a score of over thirty points at three to one. + +"The swine!" said Gordon. "Swanking it about how they are going to lick +us to bits. My word, I would give something to smash them to +smithereens. I have taken on a bet with every man in Buller's whom I +found offering long odds. I stand to win quite a lot. And I shall win +it." + +"God's truth," said Mansell, "do they think there's no guts left in the +House at all? They may go gassing about the number of Colts' badges they +have got, but they are not used to our way of playing. We go for the +ball, and if a man's in the light we knock him out of it. School House +footer is not pretty to look at; but it's the real thing, not a sort of +nursery affair. We go in to win." + +Just before lunch a typical telegram from Meredith was pinned up on the +House board: + + "Go it House. And give them ----" + +The blank was left to the imagination. The House remembered Meredith and +filled it in accordingly. + +Nothing is more horrible than the morning before a first House match. +Gordon woke happy and expectant, but by break he had begun to feel a +little shivery, and at lunch-time he was done to the world. He ate +nothing, answered questions in vague monosyllables, and smiled half +nervously at everyone in general. He was suffering from the worst kind +of stage fright. And after all, to play in an important match before the +whole school is a fairly terrifying experience. As he sat trembling in +the pavilion, waiting for the whistle to blow, Gordon would have +welcomed any form of death, anything to save him from the ordeal before +him. The whistle blew at last. As he walked out from the pavilion in his +magenta-and-black jersey, an unspeakable terror gripped him; his knees +became very weak; his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth, and then +something seemed to snap in his brain. He walked on quite cheerfully. He +was as a spectator. It seemed that it was not really he, but his ghost +that was walking on to the field. Subconsciously he lined up with the +rest. The School side in their white jerseys, the Colts with their red +dragons, seemed miles away. Collins kicked off. Gordon did not know he +was playing. A roar of "House" rose from the touch-line. Involuntarily +he joined it, thinking himself a looker-on, then suddenly Livingstone, +the Buller's inside three-quarter, caught the ball and ran towards him. +At once Gordon was himself. He forgot the crowd on the touch-line, +forgot his nervousness, forgot everything except that he was playing for +the House, and somehow or other had to drive the ball over that line. He +crashed into Livingstone, and the pair rolled into touch. A cheer +rippled down the line. Gordon did not hear it. + +_The Fernhurstian_ described this match as "perhaps the finest ever +witnessed on the School ground," and the reporter was not far wrong. +Certainly that first mad rush of the House forwards was the most +glorious moment in Gordon's football career. It was all so unexpected, +so essentially wonderful. On the touch-line Mansell shouted himself +hoarse. The cries of "House" completely drowned those of "School." For +the first quarter of an hour the School pack never got the ball out of +their half. It seemed that the House must score. Time after time, the +School were forced to touch down. Stewart was brought down just the +wrong side of the line. Lovelace performed prodigies of valour. A gloom +descended over Buller's. On the Masters' side of the line "the Bull" +fumed and ground his teeth: "Go low, Reice, you stinking little funk. +Get round, forwards, and shove; you are slacking, the lot of you. Buck +up, Philson." Up and down he stamped, cursing at his men. Lovelace could +hardly refrain from laughing. + +"Now, lads," shouted Stewart, "fair or foul; shove the ball over the +line!" Like a sledge-hammer Gordon crashed into the scrum. Wilkinson was +in his light, but Gordon was seeing red, his feet stamped on Wilkinson, +and found the ball. His elbows swung viciously, as he cut his way +through the scrum. Then someone caught him by the ankle. He went down +hard. A boot caught him on the side of the head. He got up blind with +wrath. "Fight! Fight!" he yelled. The House grovel swarmed in; the +outhouse pack shivered for a moment, then gave way. Collins and Gordon +burst through, the ball at their toes; Wilkinson dashed across and dived +for the ball; he clawed it for a second, Gordon's feet smashed it from +his hands, and Collins steered it past the back, and kicked it just over +the line and fell on top of it. + +From the touch-line there burst a roar that must have been heard five +miles away. "Well done, laddie!" bawled Mansell. Even Ferguson waved his +stick in the air. It was a great moment. + +As the School lined up behind their line, "the Bull" strode behind them. +"What are you doing? Put some life into your game. Buck up, all of you; +it is a filthy show. Guts!" + +Lovelace took the kick. It was far out: the ball hardly rose from the +ground. In a state of feverish panic Livingstone dropped out. For a +second or two the School pressed. But it was impossible to withstand the +wild attack of the House for long. Collins, elated by his success, +brought off a magnificent dribble, and was forced into touch only a few +yards from the line. Half-time was not far off. And the House struggled +fiercely to get over the line once more. Up and down between the goal +line and the twenty-five the two scrums fought. It seemed only a matter +of time for another try to send the House across with a lead of six +points; but there is as much luck in rugger as in any game. The House +had heeled perfectly, Foster cut past one man, and passed out to +Richards. A roar of "House!" went up. A try was imminent, Richards +passed to Lovelace. But Livingstone was one of those three-quarters who +will miss an easy kick one minute and bring off a superb collar the +next. As Richards passed, he dashed between him and Lovelace, +intercepted the pass, and raced up the field. Collins caught him only a +foot away from the line, and from the line out Grienburg, a heavy Buller +forward, caught the ball and fell over the line by the flag, just as the +whistle was about to blow for half-time. It was very far out, and the +kick failed. The sides crossed over 3-3. + +Simonds came on during the interval almost incoherent with excitement. +"Splendid, you fellows! Magnificent! Never saw anything like it. Stick +to it and you're bound to win. Simply putrid luck that last try ... keep +it up!" + +On the touch-line there was no doubt as to the final result. "We shall +walk away with the Cup," said Mansell, and in a far corner Jones-Evans +was laying ten to one on the House in muffins. But a bit of good luck is +capable of making a side play in a totally different spirit, and the +combined Buller's and Claremont's side started off like a whirlwind. +Livingstone kicked off, and the outhouse scrum was on the ball in a +minute. For a second the House pack was swept off its feet, and during +that second Fitzgerald had dribbled to within ten yards of the line. +Foster made a splendid effort to stay the rush, and flung himself on the +very feet of the opposing forwards. But the check was only momentary; +the forwards rolled on, and it was only on the very line that Lovelace +rushed across, and falling on the ball, held it to him, till the House +forwards had time to come round. But the rules lay down that a player, +as soon as he has fallen on the ball, must get off it at once. Lovelace +realised that if he did so, a try would be inevitable. He hung on like +grim death, praying that the referee would not see. Before half the +House forwards had formed round, the whistle blew. + +"Free kick to the School. You musn't lie on the ball like that, +Lovelace." The referee was not blind. + +Anxiously the House lined up and waited for the kick. Livingstone had +converted nearly every goal on the Colts' games the term before. It was +a trying moment. He seemed to take hours placing the ball correctly. +There was an absolute hush as he ran up; then a great sigh, half of +relief, half of disappointment, burst from the touch-line. The ball rose +hardly six feet from the ground, and sailed harmlessly towards the +School House line. And then Turner made a mistake that he cursed himself +for ever afterwards. All that was necessary to do was to let the ball +bounce, and then touch down. But as the ball sailed towards him, Turner +was suddenly possessed with the longing to do something brilliant. He +was last man on the list, and had only been put into the side at the +last moment, owing to another forward stopping out. It was not +unnatural. He caught the ball. + +"You blasted fool," yelled out Richards, "for God's sake find touch." + +Turner lost his head. He gave a mild punt down field, and before the +House had realised what was happening, Wilkinson had caught the ball, +and dashed over the line between the posts. This time Livingstone made +no mistake. 8-3. + +For the next five minutes the House side was entirely demoralised. +Nothing went right. The forwards did not keep together. Gordon cursed +foully, and only made matters worse. Lovelace's kicks only found touch a +few feet down the line. Richards rushed up and down fuming, and upset +everyone. It was due only to a miracle and some fine work by Foster that +the School did not score at least three times. Foster did everything +during those awful minutes. Rush after rush he stopped, just as +Fitzgerald was looking dangerous, and he brought down his fly-half +every time. Gordon was amazed at his performance; he had always rather +looked down on him before. He had never imagined he was so plucky. + +But it takes more than two unexpected tries to throw a School House side +off its balance for long. Soon the forwards began to reassert +themselves. Burgess the wing three-quarter, a self-satisfied member of +Buller's, who was in VI. B, and whose conceit far excelled his +performances, got away and began to look dangerous. But Gordon came up +behind him. He loathed Burgess, and flinging aside all the Fernhurst +traditions about collaring low, he leapt in the air, and crashed on top +of him. Burgess collapsed like paper. A great howl went up from the +School House. New life seemed to enter into the side. The grovel flocked +round, and Collins, heaving Burgess off the ball with a flying kick, +dribbled the ball to the half-way line. A scrum formed up and from the +heel Richards got the ball to Lovelace, who broke through the defence +and with a clear field ahead made for the line. + +"Run like hell!" shouted Simonds from the touch-line. He was standing on +the masters' side of the ground, just in front of the Chief's wife. But +he was past caring about social etiquette. All he wanted was to see the +House ahead once more. "Faster, man, run--oh, damn!" + +Just on the line the ubiquitous Livingstone caught him up, and the pair +rolled into touch. If, as some say, there is nothing much finer to watch +in football than an uphill fight, then the Thirds of 1913 was most +certainly the greatest game ever played on the Lower. Lighter and slower +than their opponents, the House kept them on the defensive for the rest +of the afternoon. Collins was a splendid sight, his hair fell in a +cascade over his eyes, his nose was bleeding, his jersey was torn half +off his back, but he did not care. His feet were everywhere, and anyone +who got in his light was sorry for it. Turner, with the thought that he +was the cause of Wilkinson's try, fought heroically. Once when +Williamson, a Claremont's forward, began to dribble, he rushed into him +sideways and with a "soccerbarge" knocked him flying into touch, and +took the ball back inside the twenty-five. It was a great fight. But no +one can strive successfully against the will of the gods, and certainly +the stars in their courses fought against the House. Ten minutes before +time Livingstone, who had been systematically starved the whole game, +got a pass about the half-way line. He was the fastest man in the field. +No one could touch him; he made straight for the corner flag, and scored +amid the tumultuous applause of Buller's. There could be no doubt about +the result now. Before the eyes of Jones-Evans there rose a prospect of +eternally treating outhouse men to muffins. Mansell swore violently. +"The Bull" walked up and down the touch-line beaming with delight. +Simonds was silent. + +"Well, you men," said Richards, "we've been beaten, but by heaven we'll +shove them the last few minutes. Go for them, tooth and nail." + +The House did so. In hall that night Burgess announced that there was +not a single gentleman in the School House, a remark which resulted in a +rather unpleasant half-hour with "the Bull" two days later. For these +last minutes produced one of the most glorious charges of the day. From +the twenty-five right in to the School half, the ball was carried. +Nothing could stop that wild rush. Livingstone and Wilkinson went down +before it, but they were passed by. Burgess made a half-hearted attempt +to fall on the ball, but did not get up for several seconds, and the +House was well in the School half when Gordon kicked a little too hard +and the School back, fielding the ball, managed to find touch. But the +House was still undaunted. From the line out, the ball was flung to +Richards, who, putting his head down, literally fought his way through +the scrum and tottered out the other side. He handed off Wilkinson, +dodged the fly-half, and made for the centre of the ground. Livingstone +came across at him. "With you, Richards," yelled Lovelace. + +As Livingstone brought Richards crashing to the ground, the ball was +safely in Lovelace's hands. Lovelace was about half-way between +mid-field and the twenty-five. He ran a few yards, steadied himself, and +took a drop. + +In deadly silence the School watched the flight of the ball. It sailed +high and straight towards the goal. "It's over," murmured the Chief +excitedly. But as the ball neared the posts it travelled slower, a +slight breeze caught it, blew it over to the right. It hit the right +post and fell back into play. As the full-back returned it to mid-field +the whistle blew for no-side. + +"School, three cheers for the House!" shouted Livingstone. + +"House, three cheers for the School!" responded Richards. + +And then everyone poured over the ropes on to the field. + +"Never mind, you men," said Simonds; "it was a damned fine show and +better than fifty wins." + +The House was proud of its side. As the Fifteen trooped across the +courts on the way to the changing-room the House lined up by the chains +of the Sixth Form green, and cheered them. + +"Well played, Caruthers!" shouted someone. + +It was Gordon's first taste of real success. + +That night there was a big feed in No. 19. They were all out of training +for three days; and they made the most of it. During the last fortnight +they had been allowed only fruit between meals. + +"It's the finest performance since I've been in the House," Mansell +declared. "Meredith's Two Cock wasn't in it. Their side was twice as +strong on paper, and my Lord, we gave it them." + +"Yes," said Lovelace, "and you wait till this side is the Three Cock; +there'll be a bit of a change then." + +"You're right there," shouted Mansell. "We sha'n't pull it off this +year, nor the year after that; but you wait and see what'll happen in +1915. That's the year when the House will revive the great days of Ross. +My lads, we sha'n't regret the lean years when the years of plenty come; +and the Three Cock Cup is back on the old oak sideboard. Our day will +come." + +That night Gordon dreamt of the great future that was opening out for +the House; and he was thankful that he would see it. Like the runners in +the torch race many would have prepared the way for victory; but it was +to him and his friends that the glory of the final triumph would belong. +For he would win the race: he would carry home the torch. + + + + +CHAPTER III: TIN GODS + + +After this match a new phase in Gordon's life may be said to have begun. +He had for the first time felt what it was to be really successful. When +he had got his Colts' cap the world had seemed at his feet; but it was +nothing to what he experienced now. For he had borne the brunt of the +House's battle. He had played a principal part in a wonderful +achievement. The House looked on him as one of its chosen defenders. He +was in the limelight, and he had no intention of ever drifting out of +it. When we have experienced the really great, the things that pleased +once charm no more. After basking in the blaze of a summer afternoon +there is something poignantly pathetic in watching the amber beams of a +December sun filter through the trees. Gordon had his fingers on the +pedestal of fame, and he intended never to loose his grasp. His position +had been obtained by brilliant football, and if he had been able to +retain it in the same way all would have been well. But the gods willed +it otherwise. + +It was generally admitted that the House stood no chance of winning the +Two Cock, and when the House agreed on its own defeat, prospects were +certainly very gloomy. So Gordon only interested himself in his own +performances. He began to wonder if there was any chance of his getting +a place in the Three Cock. Simonds was undoubtedly pleased with him, and +Henry, the only forward senior to him, had been doing rather badly +lately. In the trial games he played with a mad enthusiasm. On the +Friday evening the Two Cock side was posted. He was above Lovelace and +Richards. Henry was only one above him. + +Just before lunch on the day of the match Mansell came up to him. + +"I say, I have got some good news for you." + +"What is it?" Gordon was feverish with impatience. + +"Well, I don't think I had better tell you." + +"Oh, I say, do; don't be a swine." + +"No, I don't think I shall; it would make you too bucked with life." +Mansell smiled at him kindly. Gordon was rather annoyed. + +But on the way down to hall, he overheard Mansell talking to Tester in +the door of the changing-room. + +"Simonds is going to play Caruthers in the Three Cock instead of Henry, +if he plays at all decently to-day," Mansell was saying. + +"Oh, I am glad of that," Tester answered. "He's a good kid." + +The earth swayed dizzily as Gordon made his way down to hall. He did not +feel at all nervous. He was quite certain of himself. The day was bound +to end with him a member of the House Fifteen. All he had to do was to +play his average game. Mansell had said so. + +As he stepped on to the field, he was perfectly aware of his own +personality. He did not feel a sort of spectator, as he had done in the +Thirds. It was all so clear. He even smiled at Tester as he lined up. + +But a Two Cock is very different from a Thirds. Men from Christy's were +playing who were shining lights on Senior Leagues, and who would easily +have got their Seconds if they had tried, but who, because they were in +Christy's, did not take the trouble. Christy's should have beaten +Buller's, but they were too slack to go into proper training, and in +spite of the brilliance of Dyke and Pemberton, Buller's won by six +points after being ten points behind at half-time. As individuals, +however, Christy's were a formidable lot, and when combined with +Buller's formed a much heavier and larger side than any Gordon had +played against before. He was not very large, and was used to Junior +Leagues. For an hour he was swept off his feet. He could not keep pace +with the game. He was flung from one position into another; he followed +after the scrum; he felt like a new boy playing for the first time. At +half-time Simonds came up thoroughly fed up with life. The score was +fifteen-nothing. + +"For heaven's sake, Caruthers, get in and shove, if you can't do +anything better. You haven't done a thing the whole game." + +The game was a nightmare. Mansell looked at him curiously that evening +at tea. + +Gordon muttered something about a kick on the head, and being unable to +see anything. + +On Sunday evening a list of those in training for the Three Cock was put +up. There were ten forwards down. Gordon was bottom on the list; both +Henry and Collins were above him. In the football world his claim to +fame for the moment faded away. If he was to remain in the public gaze, +he would have to attract attention some other way. + +And so, at the most critical point in the development of his character, +Gordon began all unconsciously to seek for new ways of making himself +conspicuous. He did not know what he was doing. If someone had told him +that he was doing absurd things merely to get talked about, he would +have laughed. But all the same, it would have been true. His preparatory +schoolmaster said of him once: "There is some danger of his becoming the +school buffoon." At his prep, the boys were too closely looked after and +kept down for any one person to become pre-eminent at anything. And so a +subconscious love of notoriety drove Gordon on to play the fool for a +whole term most damnably. + +It was during the end of the Easter and the whole of the summer term +that Gordon earned a reputation for reckless bravado and disregard of +all authority that stuck to him through his whole career. Up till now he +had done things merely because he had wanted to. He followed the +inclination of the moment, but now it was different. It is pleasant to +be talked of as a mixture between Don Juan and Puck; and Gordon was +sufficiently good at games to make himself an attractive and not a +repulsive figure. The Public School boy admires the Meredith type; he +despises the man who is no good at games, and who plays fast and loose +in his house. Gordon was not unpopular, and indeed some of his escapades +were really funny, as, for instance, when he cut through the string of +the chapel organ on which a weight is attached to show whether the organ +is full of air or not. The next morning in chapel the choir began but +the organ was mute. The hymn broke off into a miserable wail. The whole +service was one silent ripple of merriment. Rogers was taking the +service, and was quite at sea without the help of music. Gordon earned a +considerable measure of notoriety for the performance. On his way to the +tuck shop, Ben, the captain of the Fifteen, came up and spoke to him. + +"Caruthers, I say, are you the man who made the organ mute?" + +"Yes." + +"By Jove, you are a sportsman." + +Gordon was thus encouraged to continue on his road to buffoonery, and +when the summer term came, he found no reason to pursue any other +course. On the cricket field he could not get a run; first he hit +wildly, then he began to poke; but all without the least success. After +a few weeks he almost ceased to try, except in House matches. "The Bull" +got furious. + +"Look here, Caruthers," he said, "I don't know if you are slack, or +merely incompetent. But when I see you make fifty against my house in a +Junior House match, and then play inside half-volleys on the upper, I +begin to think all you care about is your house. Don't you care for +Fernhurst, boy?" + +Gordon was genuinely worried about this. He admired "the Bull" +immensely: indeed, "the Bull" was about the only person at Fernhurst +whose opinion he valued at all. He made strenuous efforts to get runs, +but it was no use. He was clean out of form. His fifty _v._ Buller's was +his only score during the season, but "the Bull" did not know this. He +thought Caruthers tried for his house and slacked with the Colts. The +climax was reached during the Milton Match. Gordon went in first with +Foster. In five minutes he and Lovelace and a man from Claremont's were +out for four runs. "The Bull" chewed grass in a far corner of the field. + +And then, to crown everything, Gordon missed the easiest of catches. He +caught Lovelace's eye. It was really rather funny. The two of them burst +into sudden laughter. Lovelace was nearly doubled up. "The Bull" thought +they were laughing at him. + +"I can't think what's gone wrong with Caruthers this term," he said to +Fry, the captain of the School House. "He was so promising once; he +doesn't seem to be trying this term." + +Next day Gordon was left out of the Colts' side. The day after the chair +in Trundle's class-room suddenly collapsed. The leg had been sawn half +through, and Trundle fell over on the floor. + +Gordon was riding for a fall, and two days before Commemoration, to use +his own phrase, he "fairly put his foot in it." This term he had a +double dormitory with one Davenport, a scholar who was a year junior to +Gordon; but was in the same form. The Chief had thought Gordon a bit big +for the Nursery, but there was no room for him down below; so he and +Davenport lived at the end of the passage in glorious isolation. It was +a great luxury; they were allowed several privileges; they could keep +their light on till ten; they could go to bed when they liked, and it +was here that they usually did their preparation. Davenport, however, +suddenly contracted measles; and Gordon, who had grown too slack to do +his work alone, used to get leave for Sydenham, a rather insignificant, +self-righteous member of V. A, who had come a term before him, to come +and prepare his work in the double room. Leave was always granted, and +when Davenport returned, the scheme was still continued. On this +particular night, Davenport had got a headache. He said he was going to +stop out next day, and refused to prepare Thucydides. It also happened +that the House tutor was away that night, and so the Chief went round +the dormitories, putting out the lights. He did not know of the custom +by which Sydenham came up to do the con. He was not very pleased, but +after a little hesitation gave leave. The door was shut. Sydenham +perched himself on the chest of drawers, Gordon produced an aid to quick +translation, Davenport turned over the pages of _Nash's_. The Abbey +bells also happened to be ringing that night. It was quite impossible to +hear any normal sound down the passage; and so Gordon was quite unaware +of the Chief's intention to revisit them and see if they were really +working, till the door opened and the Chief walked in. Gordon lost his +head; he sat up in bed and gaped. Thucydides lay on one side of the bed, +the crib on the other. + +The Chief picked up the book. + +"Ah, does Mr Macdonald allow you to use this?" + +In the really dramatic moments of our lives it is always the inane that +first suggests itself. It was so likely that Macdonald would have given +them permission. + +"No, sir." + +"Er, Davenport, are you preparing--er yes, Thucydides with Caruthers, +too?" + +"No, sir." Davenport thanked heaven that he had a headache. He had +helped in the work of deceit every night the whole term. The Chief +thought he must be a boy of strong moral courage; and in many ways he +was, but cribbing, after all, was part of the daily routine. + +The Chief took up the book. + +"Sydenham, go back to your study." + +He turned down the light and went out. His footsteps died out down the +passage. + +"Damn!" said Gordon. + +"_In excelsis gloria_," said Davenport. + +"And it was a rotten crib, too," said Gordon. + +By next morning the story was all round the school. + +"You will be birched for certain," was Tester's cheerful comment, "and +serve you right for getting caught." + +"I sha'n't be such a fool again," growled Caruthers. + +And certainly he profited by his experience. A year later the House +Tutor came into his study when he was preparing Vergil with the aid of +Dr Giles' text. He put a piece of blotting-paper over the crib, and +chatted for a few minutes quite easily about the chances of the Eleven +_v._ Tonford. + +But when we are in trouble, there are few of us who can see so far ahead +as to feel thankful at the thought that we have learnt something that +will be a help to us in the future. Gordon was thoroughly fed up. But it +was not his game to show his feelings. He went about laughing as though +nothing had happened at all; he treated the whole thing as a colossal +joke. Sydenham was, however, very nervous, and showed it. Gordon ragged +him mercilessly. + +"My good man, what the hell does it matter? Chief's not much of a +bircher, and don't gas about disgrace, and such muck. This isn't a St +Winifred's sort of school. It will only mean a bad report." + +In School that day Gordon was in great form. By the end of the morning +he had accumulated in all three hundred lines from various sources for +ragging. + +"That man, Caruthers, is some fellow," said Ferguson to Simonds at +lunch. "He looks as if he enjoyed being in rows." + +"Perhaps he does," was the answer. "He is certainly always doing his +best to get into them. But he is in for a birching this time." + +But Simonds was wrong. The Chief was too utterly fed up to do anything; +moreover, he saw that a birching would do Gordon no good. He would only +boast about it. + +It was not until a week later that Gordon was called up before the +Chief. + +"Caruthers, I want to know where you got hold of that crib." + +As a matter of fact he had obtained it by means of Rudd, who had a large +stock of such articles, and let them out on loan for the term. It was a +paying business. Gordon, of course, could not divulge this. + +"I got it in the holidays, sir." + +The Chief was surprised and shocked at this. He could quite easily +understood that a boy should buy a crib at some second-hand bookshop in +the town, during term time, when surrounded with the general atmosphere +of Public School dishonesty; but it did seem unnatural that a boy, while +living in the clean surroundings of his home, should be scheming to +cheat his fellows and masters. The Chief said as much; Gordon did not +quite follow him. Besides everyone cribbed. + +"What I can't understand, Caruthers," the Chief went on, "is that you +always assume a tremendous keenness on the School and House, of which +you give absolutely no proof in your actions except on the field. This +is the second time I have had to speak to you on this subject. Do you +imagine that the good reputation of the House depends solely on its +performance in the Thirds, or that of the School on its number of +victories in School matches?" + +Gordon thought it did. But he knew that "Yes" was hardly the answer the +Chief expected. He held his peace. It was no use arguing the subject. + +When he came out of the study, he met Rudd palpitating with funk. + +"You didn't say anything about my lending you that crib, did you?" Rudd +was very frightened of the Chief. + +"Of course not, you bloody-looking fool. The best thing you can do is to +go and get me a better crib with all possible speed, my friend. And mind +it's a decent one. The last one was rotten; and I can't do without one. +I was bottled yesterday." + +In three days Rudd's agent from town had procured him a fine edition of +the Sicilian expedition. Davenport and Gordon did some superb construe +during the remainder of the term. + +It is, of course, very easy to run down any existing system; and the +Public School system has come in for its fair share of abuse. Yet it +must be remembered that no one has yet been able to devise a better. And +after all, for the average man it is not such a bad training. It is +inclined to destroy individuality, to turn out a fixed pattern; it +wishes to take everyone, no matter what his tastes or ideas may be, and +make him conform to its own ideals. In the process, much good is +destroyed, for the Public School man is slack, easy-going, tolerant, is +not easily upset by scruples, laughs at good things, smiles at bad, yet +he is a fine follower. He has learnt to do what he is told; he takes +life as he sees it and is content. So far so good. With the average +individual the system is not so very unsatisfactory. + +But take the case of the boy who has it in him to be a leader, who is +not merely content to follow, but wishes to be at the head, in the +forefront of the battle. What of him? Gordon went to Fernhurst with the +determination to excel, and at once was brought face to face with the +fact that success lay in a blind worship at the shrine of the god of +Athleticism. Honesty, virtue, moral determination--these mattered not at +all. The author of _Eric_ and such others who have never faced, really +faced, life and seen what it is, talk of the incalculable good one boy +can do, who refuses to be led astray by temptations, and remains true to +the ideals he learnt in the nursery. If there does come into any school +such a boy, he is merely labelled as "pi," and taken no notice of. He +who wishes to get to the front has to strive after success on the field, +and success on the field alone. This is the way that the future leaders +of England are being trained to take their proper place in the national +struggle for a right and far-sighted civilisation. On this alone the +system stands condemned. For the history of a nation is the history of +its great men, and the one object of the Public School is to produce not +great men, but a satisfactory type. + +Gordon found that, as soon as he was recognised as a coming athlete, +popularity was his, and that on the strength of his physical abilities +he could do pretty well what he liked. For there is no strong feeling in +schools on the subject of honesty and morality. And it is not unnatural +that a boy, finding that no one will object if he follows the call of +pleasure, drifts with the stream. And then Gordon went off suddenly at +games, as the best athlete must at some time or other. Like many others, +he loved popularity and fame. So, in order to keep in the limelight, he +flung aside all pretences of conscience, and got the reputation of being +"the devil of a sport"--a reputation that is a passport to Public School +society, but is damning to any man's character. Only a few realise this. +Betteridge was one. He was not an athlete, but was clever and in the +Sixth. He enjoyed a rag, but saw the difference between liberty and +licence. He was a freethinker, and saw life with a wide vision that +embraced the whole horizon. + +"Look here, Caruthers," he said one evening, during hall, in the last +half of the summer term, "I don't want to say anything; but you know you +are making a most awful ass of yourself." + +"What do you mean?" + +"You know quite well what I mean. I don't think it's your fault; it is +the fault of this rotten system under which we live. You are not what +you were when you first came. Of course, it is natural to crib and fool +about, but you are going a bit far. One day you will be captain of this +House. You'll be sorry then." + +"Oh, don't be a damned ass, Betteridge, preaching to me. I know what I +am doing. It's not long that I shall have to enjoy myself. I shall be in +the Sixth soon, and shall have to slow down then. But at present I shall +do damned well what I like. After all, what does it matter if I do rot +all day and muck about generally? It makes no difference to you or the +House. It's my own damned business, and besides, everyone else does it!" + +It was useless to reason with him. The argument that "others do it" is +impossible to combat. And, after all, environment is what counts, and it +is a fairly dangerous environment with which to surround any but the +average sensual being who eats, drinks, laughs and is merry, and never +thinks at all. And yet masters are surprised when they find the big man +whom they thought impregnable following the accepted customs. They say: +"What a pity! A fine fellow gone to the dogs, and after all we've done +for him, too!" and yet whose fault is it? + +But this is by the wayside. For better or for worse the character of +Gordon Caruthers was developing on its own lines. Criticism should be +withheld till the last threads are woven, and we can judge of the +complex whole. + + * * * * * + +The summer term was drawing to a close. It had not been very successful +as far as Gordon was concerned. His cricket had frankly been a failure, +and the prominence he had gained in his House hardly compensated for the +misgivings with which the Chief and Buller regarded his future. It +seemed as if he could not help running up against "the Bull." + +A-K was knocked out of the Senior House competition at once. They drew +Christy's and were beaten by an innings. Gordon made eleven and fifteen, +and was missed three times while making them. Foster, however, got a +very sturdy thirty-three not out, and took three wickets. He got his +House cap. Gordon was furious, and swore that he was jolly well not +going to try any more that term. + +During the final senior he was strolling round the field with Tester, +both of them in cloth suits, unchanged for games. "The Bull" came up +behind them. + +"Caruthers, why aren't you changed this afternoon?" + +"Well sir, we only had a House game this afternoon, so Tester and I got +leave off to watch the match." + +"But your House is not playing in it." + +"No, sir." + +"Well, then, what on earth do you mean by slacking about the field like +this? It's your duty to be training yourself too, so that some day you +may be of some use to Fernhurst, and here are you slacking about, +instead of asking the pro. to give you a net. Slackness! filthy +slackness! I don't know what's wrong with you this term; you were quite +keen once." + +He strolled off, scratching the back of his head. "The Bull" always did +this when in a bad temper. + +"Poor old chap," murmured Tester, "he takes these little things so much +to heart. He loathes me because I don't sweat myself to death all day at +the nets. He never said anything to me; he has given me up as a bad job. +Poor old chap!" + +"Well, I suppose we ought to have been at the nets," said Gordon. + +"If we did everything that we ought to do in this world, we should never +have a moment's time to do the things we liked." + +"I suppose so," said Gordon, "but still, you know--oh, well, what the +hell does it matter? By Jove, well hit, Dyke!" + +The conversation turned again to the match. + +Next term Gordon had arranged to have a study with Lovelace. Tester was +going to be a prefect, and wanted to himself the big upstairs study that +Clarke had had. Gordon was staying in No. 1. + +He was not sorry. He did not quite understand Tester; he was too clever, +and Gordon never knew exactly what he was driving at. Lovelace, on the +other hand, was his best friend; they had played together in several +sides, and next term Lovelace would captain the footer Colts. The future +seemed very roseate. Moreover, he was certain to get into the Sixth, and +that meant many privileges. He did not have to attend rolls, he could be +late for tea, there was no need for him to get leave to speak to anyone +in hall. It meant many study hours, and it would also bring him into +contact with the Olympians. There was Garter, who had been in the Sixth +four terms, and was in the Second Fifteen. He would meet Betteridge. +There was Rudd to rag. Prothero had reduced his time-table to one hour +in school a day, and was an authority to consult on any subject +regarding avoiding work. Davenport would be promoted, too. Gordon's day +of power was beginning to dawn. Next term he would be distinctly a House +blood. It was a ravishing thought. + +One evening in exam. week Hunter announced casually after tea: "I say, +do you remember Betteridge talking once about a man called Ferrers? +Well, he is coming here as a master next term." + +"Oh, Lord, is he really?" said Fletcher. "I suppose he will be full of +rotten new theories, and he will probably want to make us work." + +"Well, I always give a master a good fortnight's trial before I do any +work for him," said Tester; "at the end of that, I usually find his +keenness has worn off. I bet he will be the same as all the rest." + +"I doubt it," said Betteridge; "he is a man." + +"Well, whatever he is, he is going to have no effect on me," said +Gordon, with a finality that quite closed the question. + + + + +CHAPTER IV: THROUGH A GLASS DARKLY + + +As often as not, it is mere chance that provides the most essentially +important moments in our lives. It is easy to talk of the inevitable +march of Fate, but more usually a chance word or look alters our entire +outlook on life. And so it was that the course of Gordon's whole career +was suddenly changed into a different channel, at a moment when he was +drifting placidly on the stream of a lax conventionality, and was +frittering away all his opportunities for sheer lack of anything that +would spur him on to a clearer conception of what life means. + +During the whole of the term, Tester and Gordon had done their early +morning preparation on the V. A green. As they had answered their names +at roll, they would take out deck-chairs and cushions and luxuriously +pass the three quarters of an hour before breakfast reclining back, +putting the finishing touches to the evening's work. It is a very +beautiful spot, the V. A green. On three sides it is flanked with +buildings; on the fourth is a low wall, which is used as an exit for +nocturnal expeditions. It was under the V. A class-room that Gordon and +Tester put their chairs. Opposite them was the grey library; beyond rose +the Abbey, solemn and austere; on the left was the chapel and the long +cloister leading to big school. In the early morning a great hush +pervaded the place. The only sound was the faint tolling of the +Almshouse bell. Between the Abbey and the library the sun rose in a +blaze of glory. + +On the last morning of the term Gordon and Tester lolled back in their +comfortable chairs. Gordon was trying to learn his rep. for the exam. +that morning. Tester was reading _The Oxford Book of English Verse_; the +exams for the Sixth were over. + +"Oh, damn this," said Gordon. "I can't learn the stuff." + +He flung the book down, and lay back watching the first rays of the sun +flicker on the cold bronze of the Abbey. + +"This has been a rotten term, you know," he said at last. + +"Yes?" said Tester. He was engrossed in poetry. + +"Well, I got into the deuce of a row with Chief, and I never got my +House cap, and I've broken it off with Jackson." + +Tester put down his book and sat up. + +"Caruthers, you know you are wasting your time. Here are you with all +your brilliance and your personality worrying only about House caps and +petty intrigues, and little things like that. What you want to realise +is that there is something beyond the aim of a Fernhurst career. You are +clever enough; but poetry and art mean nothing to you." + +"Oh poetry, that's all right for Claremont and asses like that, but +what's the use of it?" + +"Oh, use, use! Nothing but this eternal cry about the use of a thing. +Poetry is the sort of beacon-light of man. What's wrong with you is that +you've read the wrong stuff. It is all very well for a middle-aged man +to worship Wordsworth and calm philosophy. But youth wants colour, life, +passion, the poetry of revolt. Now look here, let me read you this, and +then tell me what you think of it." + +"Oh, all right. Is it long?" + +"No, not very." + +In a low, clear voice, Tester began to read the great spring Chorus in +_Atalanta_, into which Swinburne has crowded all that he ever knew of +joy and happiness. In everyone there lies the love of beauty--"we needs +must love the highest when we see it"--but the pity is that so few of us +are ever brought face to face with the really lovely, or perhaps, if we +are, we come to it too late. Our power of appreciation has lain too long +dormant ever to be aroused. And at school it is the common thing for +boys to pass through their six years' traffic without ever realising +what beauty is. They are told to read Vergil, Tennyson and Browning, the +philosophers, the comforters of old age, poets who "had for weary feet +the gift of rest." But boys never hear of Byron, Swinburne and Rossetti, +men with big flaming hearts that cried for physical beauty and the +loveliness of tangible things. As a result they drift out into the +world, to take their place with the dull, commonplace Philistine who has +made the House of Commons what it is. + +But as Gordon heard Tester reading the wonderful riot of melody, which +conjures up visions of rainbows, and far-receding sunsets, of dew +gleaming like crystals in the morning, of water gliding like forgotten +songs, a strange peace descended on him. He had not known that there +could be anything so intensely beautiful. Over the great Abbey the sun +was rising heavenwards; down the street past the Almshouses he heard the +happy sound of a young girl laughing. The world was full of strange new +things; there was a new meaning in the song of the blackbird, in the +rustle of the leaves, in the whispering of the warm wind. And suddenly +there came over him a sensation of how far he himself was below the +splendour of it all. He had walked through life with blinded eyes; with +dulled senses he had stared at the ground, while all the time the great +ideal of beauty was shining from the blue mountains of man's desire. + +Tester had finished reading. + +"Well what do you think of it?" + +"Oh, it's wonderful. I never dreamt of such music." + +"Yes, you see, masters grow old; they forget what it was like to be +young; they want us to look at life through their spectacles, and, of +course, we can't. Youth and age is an impossible combination; we have to +cut a way for ourselves, Caruthers, sometimes we fail, sometimes we +succeed. I've made a pretty fair mess of things, because I have gone on +my own way; because I have had no one to guide me. I found little +consolation in mature thought, and I am not one of the fools who has +just taken things for granted; I strike out by myself. I want to find +what beauty really is, and I shall find it by sifting out everything +first. I have probed a good many things one way and another, some ugly, +some beautiful. I have followed the course of Nature. After all, Nature +is more likely to be right than an artificial civilisation. I follow +where my inclinations lead me. I hate laws and regulations. As I've +often said, I did not ask to come into this world, so I shall do as I +please, and I think that I shall reach home all right in the end. +Literature is a great sign-post!" + +"Yes," said Gordon simply. "I never imagined it before. Who wrote that, +by the way?" + +"Swinburne, the great pagan who was sick of the sham and pretence of his +day, and cried for the glories of Rome. Look here, Caruthers, come down +to Gisson's afterwards, and as a memento of our year together in Study +1, just let me give you Swinburne's _Poems and Ballads_. It's great +stuff; you'll like it, and you'll find there something a bit better than +your caps and pots." + +Gordon did not answer. The sun had now risen high above the Abbey. +Across the silence was wafted the cracked notes of the School House +bell; there was a rush of feet from the studies. For a few minutes +Gordon lay back in his chair quite quiet. A new day had broken on his +life. The future opened out with wide promises, with possibilities of +great things. For he had heard at last the call which, if ever a man +hears it, he casts away the nets and follows after--the call of +beauty--"which is, after all, only truth, seen from another side." + + + + +BOOK III: UNRAVELLING THE THREADS + + "... and drank delight of battle with my peers." + + TENNYSON. + + "Yet would you tread again + All the road over? + Face the old joy and pain-- + Hemlock and clover? + Yes. For it still was good, + Good to be living, + Buoyant of heart and blood; + Fighting, forgiving." + + AUSTIN DOBSON. + + "Oh! the hardest day was never then too hard." + + LINDSAY GORDON. + + + + +CHAPTER I: COMMON ROOM FACES + + +Miracles do not happen, nor do sudden conversions. Man very rarely +changes. What he is at the beginning, he is at the end; all that occurs +is that at various stages of his journey he looks at life from a +different point of view, or rather through a different pair of +spectacles, for never on this earth do we really see things as they are. +When Gordon found new influences at work upon him, when he discovered +through literature that there is something higher than the ignoble +monotony of the average individual routine, he did not suddenly change +his whole way of life, and, "like a swimmer into cleanness leaping," put +out of sight behind him the things that had pleased him once. Right and +wrong are merely relative terms. What was considered right in the days +of Caesar spells social ostracism to-day. And there are a few who prefer +to see life as the Romans saw it, and to follow the ideals of power and +physical beauty. For such life is not easy. Yet we are not so much +better than "when Caesar Augustus was Egypt's Lord!" The question of what +is really right and what is really wrong will never be satisfactorily +decided, on this earth at any rate, for we cannot all wear the same +spectacles for long. Temperament is all-powerful. + +And Gordon made no attempt to settle the question. He did not suddenly +feel a loathing for his former pleasures, but during the long summer +holidays, as he bathed in the waters of English poetry, it seemed to him +as if he had outgrown them, and cast them aside. Perhaps in the future +they might momentarily appear beautiful once more, but he did not think +that he would ever again wear them for very long, for they were, after +all, little, insignificant, trivial, and contrasted poorly with the +white heat of Byron's passion, and the flaming ardour of Swinburne, that +cried for "the old kingdoms of earth and their kings." As he read on, +while the summer sun sank in a red sea behind the gaunt Hampstead firs, +read of the proud, domineering soul of Manfred, visualised the burst of +passion that had prompted the murder in _The Last Confession_, felt the +thundering paganism of the _Hymn to Proserpine_, he was overcome with a +tremendous hatred for the system that had kept literature from him as a +shut book, that had offered him mature philosophy instead of colour and +youth, and tried to prevent him from seeking it for himself. So this is +the way, he thought, the youth of England is being brought up. Masters +tell us to fix all our energies on achieving school successes, and think +of calf-bound prizes and tasselled caps all day long. No wonder that, if +they bind us down to trivial things, we become like the Man with the +Muck-Rake, and drift on with low aims, with nothing to help us to live +differently from cattle. No wonder the whole common room is repeatedly +shocked by the discovery of some sordid scandal. + +Gordon's soul was very arrogant and very intolerant, and it was rather +unfortunate that, at a time when he was bubbling over with rebellion, +Arnold Lunn's novel, _The Harrovians_, should have been published, as no +previous school story had done it stripped school life of sentiment, and +a storm of adverse criticism broke out. Old Harrovians wrote to the +papers, saying that they had been at Harrow for six years, and that the +conversation was, except in a few ignoble exceptions, pure and manly, +and that the general atmosphere was one of clean, healthy +broadmindedness. Gordon fumed. What fools all these people were! When +they were told the truth, they would not believe it. Prophets must +prophesy smooth things, or else were not prophets. How was there ever +going to be any hope of improvement till the true state of affairs was +understood? + +And then a sudden doubt came to Gordon. What if these old Harrovians +were right? What if this man Lunn had depicted the life of the +exceptional, not of the average boy? What then of Fernhurst? He had +judged the book by his own experiences. Was it possible that his school +was worse than other schools, and what was usual there, would be +exceptional at Rugby, Eton and Winchester? He had been so proud of +Fernhurst, with its grey cloisters and dreaming Abbey, with its +magnificent Fifteen and fine boxers. He had cursed at the Public School +system because he thought it had done harm to Fernhurst. What if +Fernhurst and not the system were at fault? For several days this +worried him. + +One evening, however, during the last week of the holidays, a Mr Ainslie +came to dinner. He had been a contemporary of Lunn's at Harrow, and had +himself been head of his house for two years. The conversation had +drifted to a discussion of recent books: _The Woman Thou Gavest Me_, +_Sinister Street_, _The Devil's Garden_, _Round the Corner_. + +"By the way, Gordon," said Ainslie, "read that book, _The Harrovians_?" + +"Oh yes, sir." + +"What did you think of it?" + +"I liked it very much--thought it was the finest school story I had ever +read." Gordon felt rather nervous. He was aware that he was on thin ice, +and timidly blurted out: "But, sir, was it true to Harrow life?" + +"Absolutely; and it's as true to the life of any other Public School. +They are all much the same, you know, at the root." + +An immense weight was lifted from Gordon's mind. + +"I thought so, sir, but such a lot of fellows wrote to the papers saying +it was all rot, and I began to wonder if----" + +"My dear Gordon, don't you make any mistake about it. Lunn knows what he +is talking about. But old Public School men shroud their school life in +a mist of sentiment; so they forget what they really did. All they +remember is how they ragged the 'stinks' master, and pulled off the +Senior cricket cup. Why, when that new house master--oh, what's his +name, Lee? Well, at any rate, when he came to Lunn's house he was slowly +getting rid of undesirables for terms, actually for terms. Cayley was +not the only one who had to go, and, of course, no one thought of +anything but games. I got a schol. there from my prep., and I literally +had to live it down. It took me some time, too. We want a good deal of +improvement in this rusty old system." + +So after all it was the system that was at fault, not Fernhurst.... +Fairly contentedly he went back by the three-thirty from Waterloo; but +as he saw the evening sun steeping the gravel courts in shadows, and +watched the lights flickering behind the study panes, it came home to +him with a poignant vividness that Fernhurst, which should have been a +home of dreams and of ideas, had, by the inefficiency of a vacillating +system, become immersed in petty intrigues, and was filled with a +generation that was being taught to blind itself to the higher issues. + +But in a moment he was caught up in the tear and bustle of an opening +term. There was the rush to the notice-board to see what dormitory he +was in, who were the prefects; then the hurried interview with the +Chief, and the inevitable Health certificate. The meeting of the +eight-ten from Exeter; prayers; the arrival of the last train; and +finally sleep. The hold of tradition is very strong; in a few moments +Gordon had flung aside his doubts and scruples. Arm-in-arm with Collins +he rolled down to the day-room to look at the new boys. There were +twelve of them in all, very frightened, very timid, huddled round the +day-room fire, wondering what was before them. + +"Well, Caruthers, what do you think of that lot?" said Collins, as they +swaggered back again to the studies. + +"Oh, not much; that fellow second from the left was not bad. What's his +name, oh yes, Morcombe. Believe me, he is some stuff." + +"Oh, I thought him rather a washed-out specimen, but, I say, that fat +fellow looks rather a sport. You know, the man like a dormouse." + +"Oh yes, that podgy lad. Morgan, he is Welsh, I know about him. He was +captain of the prep, last year at football--not a bad forward, I +believe. Oh, but there's Lovelace--Lovelace." + +"Hullo, Caruthers." + +In a huge brown coat, Lovelace charged across from the porter's lodge. +"Had any cricket? What price Middlesex--below Hants, rotten county--you +should watch Leicester now." + +"Oh, dry up, Middlesex has had bad luck this year." The defeat at Lord's +by Worcester and Kent in the same week was a sore point with Gordon. + +"Oh, did they? I call them rotten players. But, look here, who are +pres?" + +"Oh, Tester, Betteridge, Clarke, Mansell, all the whole crowd." + +"Good God, 'some' pres! Wait a sec. for me. I am only going to see Chief +for a second. I am going to get confirmed, I think. I heard you get off +some work for it. Half a sec." + +Back to the old life again. Nothing was changed. The same talk, the same +interests, all the old things the same. Only he was altered. He felt as +if he wanted to stand on the Abbey tower, and shout aloud that the +School was wasting its opportunities, and was struggling blindly in the +dark, following will-o'-the-wisps. And yet, for all that, he would not +have Lovelace, or Mansell or any other of his friends the least bit +different. He did not know what he wanted. It was better to let them go +on as they were. As it had been, it would be. He could not do much, and +at the moment he decided that, whatever he might think or feel, he would +outwardly remain the same. The world was not going to look at his soul. +He would go on as he had begun, putting things behind him as he outgrew +them, and as they appeared childish to him. Only a very few should ever +see him as he really was. The rest would not understand him, they would +think him strange, unnatural; and he did not want that. + +The first few days passed quickly. The entrance of Ferrers, the new +master, into the placid Fernhurst atmosphere caused a mild sensation. +The school first saw him walking across the courts after the masters' +meeting on the first day of term. His walk was a roll; he talked at the +top of his voice; his left arm sustained a pile of books; his right arm +gesticulated wildly. + +"Good Gawd," said Tester, "what a bounder." + +"Maybe, but he's the sort of man to wake up the school," said +Betteridge. + +"Isn't it rather like applying a stomach-pump to a man who is only fit +for a small dose of Eno's Fruit Salt?" + +"_Nous verrons._" + +And in the bustle of a new term Ferrers was forgotten. + +Gordon was in the Sixth, and its privileges were indeed sweet. He felt +very proud as he sat in the same room with Harding, a double-first, and +head of the House, and with Hazelton, the captain of the House. Though +it was an ordeal to go on to "con" before them, it was very magnificent +to roll down to the football field just before the game began without +attending roll. + +"I say, Caruthers," Lovelace would yell across the changing-room, "do +buck up; it's nearly twenty-five to three, and roll is at a quarter to." + +"I don't go to roll," came the lordly answer. + +And he felt the eyes of admiring juniors fixed on him. It was sheer joy, +too, to wear the blue ribbon of the Sixth Form and to carry a +walking-stick; to stroll into shops that were to the rest of the school +out of bounds; to go to the armoury and the gym. after tea without a +pass. But it was in hall that the new position meant most. + +While the rest of the house had to stay in their studies and make some +pretence of work, he would wander indolently down the passage and pay +calls. When he paused outside a study he heard the invariable sound of a +novel flying into the waste-paper basket, of a paper being shoved under +the table, or a cake being relegated to the window-seat. Then he came +in. + +A curse always greeted him. + +"Oh, damn you, Caruthers, I thought it was a prefect. Foster, hoist out +that cake; we were just having a meal." + +He now had the freedom of studies that had before been to him as holy +places. Where once Clarke had dealt out justice with a heavy hand, +Tester and he sat before the fire discussing books and life. In the +games study, where once he trembled before the rage of Lovelace major, +he sat with Carter in hall preparing Thucydides. Steps would sound down +the passage, a knock on the door. + +"Come in," bawled Carter. + +"Please, Carter, may I speak to Smith?" a nervous voice would say. No +one could talk without leave from a prefect during hall. + +"Yes; and shut the outer door," Carter answered, without looking round. +The prefectorial dignity seemed in a way to descend on Gordon; just then +life was very good. But there were times when he would feel an +uncontrollable impatience with the regime under which he lived. One of +these was on the second Sunday of term. It was Rogers' turn to preach, +and, as always, Gordon prepared himself for a twenty minutes' sleep till +the outburst of egoistic rhetoric was spent. But this time, about +half-way through, a few phrases floated through his mist of dreams and +caught his attention. Rogers was talking about the impending +confirmation service. With one hand on the lectern and the other +brandishing his pince-nez, as was his custom when he intended to be more +than usually impressive, he began the really vital part of the sermon. + +"In the holidays there appeared as, I am sorry to say, I expect some of +you saw, a book pretending to deal with life at one of our largest +Public Schools. I say, pretending, because the book contains hardly a +word of truth. The writer says that the boys are callous about religious +questions and discuss matters which only grown-up people should mention +in the privacy of their own studies, and still more serious, the purport +of the book was to attack not only the boys but even the masters who so +nobly endeavour to inculcate living ideas of purity and Christianity. I +am only too well aware when I look round this chapel to-night--this +chapel made sacred by so many memories--that nearly every word of that +accusation is false. Yet perhaps there are times--in our mirth, shall we +say?--when we are engaged in sport, or genial merriment, when we are +inclined to treat sacred matters not with quite that reverence that we +ought. Perhaps----" + +Rogers prosed on, epithet followed epithet, egotism and arrogance vied +with one another for predominance. The school lolled back in the oak +seats and dreamt of house matches, rags, impositions, impending rows. At +last the Chief gave out the final hymn. Into the cloisters the school +poured out, hustling, shouting, a stream of shadows. Contentedly Rogers +went back to his house, ate a large meal, and addressed a little homily +to the confirmation candidates in his house on the virtues of sincerity. + +"What a pitiable state of mind old 'Bogus' must be in," sighed Tester, +when the scurry of feet along the passage had died down kind of quiet, +and he and Gordon were sitting in front of a typically huge School House +fire. + +"I don't think I should call it a mind at all," muttered Gordon, who was +furious about the whole affair. "The man's an utter fool. When he is +told the truth he won't believe it, but stands there in the pulpit +rambling on, airing his rotten opinions. Good God, and that's the sort +of man who is supposed to be moulding the coming generation. Oh, it's +sickening." + +"Well, my good boy, what more can you expect? The really brilliant men +don't take up schoolmastering; it is the worst paid profession there is. +Look at it, a man with a double-first at Oxford comes down to a place +like Fernhurst and sweats his guts out day and night for two hundred +pounds a year. Of course, the big men try for better things. Rogers is +just the sort of fool who would be a schoolmaster. He has got no brain, +no intellect, he loves jawing, and nothing could be more suitable for +him than the Third Form, the pulpit, and a commission in the O.T.C. But +perhaps he may have a few merits. I have not found any yet." + +"Nor I. But, you know, some good men take up schoolmastering." + +"Oh, of course they do. There is the Chief, for instance, a brilliant +scholar and _the_ authority on Coleridge. But he is an exception; and +besides, he did not stop an assistant master long; he got a +headmastership pretty soon. Chief is a splendid fellow. But I am talking +of the average man. Just look at our staff: a more fatuous set of fools +I never struck. All in a groove, all worshipping the same rotten tin +gods. I am always repeating myself, but I can't help it. Damn them all, +I say, they've mucked up my life pretty well; not one of them has tried +to help me. They sit round the common room fire and gas. Betteridge +swears Ferrers is a wonderful man; personally, I think he is an +unmitigated nuisance. But at any rate, he is the only man who ever +thinks for himself. Oh, what fools they all are." + +For the rest of the evening Gordon and Tester cursed and swore at +everyone and everything, and on the whole felt better for having got it +off their chests. At any rate, next day Gordon was plotting a rag on an +enormous scale with Archie Fletcher; and in a House game assisted in the +severe routing of Rogers' house by seventy-eight points to nil. It takes +a good deal to upset a boy of fifteen for very long. And the long +evenings were a supreme happiness. + + * * * * * + +It must be owned that during hall Lovelace was rather unsociable. It was +not that he studied Greek or Latin; he had a healthy contempt for +scholastic triumphs; horse-racing was the real interest of his life. +"This is my work," he used to scoff, brandishing _The Sportsman_ in +Gordon's face. "I am not going to be a classic scholar, and I sha'n't +discover any new element, or such stuff as that. I am going on the turf. +This is my work." + +For an hour every evening he laboured perseveringly at "his work" with +form books, _The Sportsman_, and huge account books. For every single +race he chose the runners, and laid imaginary bets; each night he made +out how much he had lost or made; and it must be confessed that if he +had really laid money on the horses, he would most certainly have done a +good term's work. By Christmas he was one hundred and seventeen pounds +up. This pursuit, of course, rather militated against his activities in +the class-room; but, as he said, "It was only Claremont, the old +Methuselah--and they had a damned good crib." Lovelace did his work from +seven to eight, and during this time Caruthers, who seemed to be in the +happy condition of never having any work to do at all, wandered round +the studies. And during his peregrinations many who had been to him +before merely units in a vast organisation detached themselves from the +rest, and became to him living characters; especially was this so with +Foster. He had played with Foster for two years in the Colts and in A-K +sides, but there had never been anything in common between them; their +interests had been far apart; neither stood for anything to the other. +But now, when Gordon found himself frequently dropping into Foster's +study for half-an-hour or so, he realised how many qualities Foster had. +Foster was strong-willed, obstinate almost, quite regardless of +tradition, in his own way slightly a rebel, and a past master in the art +of deceiving masters. There are two ways of making a master look a fool: +one is by introducing processions and coloured mice; the other by bowing +before him, making him think you are hard-working and industrious, and +all the while laughing at him behind his back. Gordon preferred the +former, because he had the love of battle; but Foster held to the second +method, in its way equally effective, and anyone who shook a spear +against authority was sure of sympathy from Gordon. + +It was a great sight to see Foster bamboozle Claremont. With the +greatest regularity Foster was ploughed in his con., failed to score in +Latin prose, and knew nothing of his rep. And yet he never got an +imposition. He would point out how hard he worked; he often stayed +behind after school for a few seconds to ask Claremont a point in the +unseen. Such keenness was unusual, and Claremont could not connect it +with the slovenly productions that he had learnt to associate with +the name of Foster. For a long time it was a vast enigma. At +half term Foster's report consisted of one word, typically +Claremontian--"Inscrutable." But manners always win in the end. Foster +showed so much zeal, such an honest willingness to learn, that Claremont +finally classed him as a hard-working, keen, friendly, but amazingly +stupid boy. The Army class, which Foster honoured with his presence, +always did Latin and English with Claremont, and for over two years +Foster sat at the back of Claremont's room, scoring marks by singles +when others scored by tens. Yet his reports were invariably good; he +never had an imposition; he never needed to prepare a line of anything. + +"Well, Foster," Claremont used to say, as he returned a prose entirely +besmirched with blue pencil, "I believe you really try, but the result +is most disheartening." + +Foster always looked profoundly distressed; and at the end of the hour +he would go up, prose in hand, and ask why the subject of an active verb +could not be in the ablative. Two minutes later he would emerge with a +broad grin on his face, and murmur to whoever might be near that +Claremont was "a most damnable ass, but none the less a pleasant +creature." And in the evening hall he and Gordon would discuss how one +or other of them had advanced a step further into the enemy's country, +and taken one more pawn in the gigantic game of bluff. They were both in +their own fashion working to the same end. + +But at this point the serene calm of Gordon's life was suddenly rudely +interrupted by an incursion on the part of "the Bull." About three weeks +after the term had begun the Colts played their first game, and like +most sides at the beginning of a season, they were terribly +disorganised. Lovelace, who had been in under-sixteen teams for years, +was the Senior Colts badge and was captain. Burgoyne led the scrum; he +was a rough diamond, if indeed a diamond at all, and was not too popular +with the side. Foster was scrum half; Collins and Gordon were in the +scrum. It was really quite a decent side, but this particular afternoon +it started shakily. "The Bull" raged so madly and cursed so furiously +that the side became petrified with funk, and could do nothing right. + +Once and only once did the Colts look like scoring, and then Lovelace +knocked on the easiest pass right between the posts. + +"Never did I see anything like it," bellowed Buller. "For eighteen years +I have coached Fernhurst; and before that I coached Oxford and +Gloucestershire; and I am not going to stand this. Lovelace, you are not +fit to be captain of a pick-up, let alone a school Colts side. Burgoyne, +skipper the side. Now then, two minutes more to half-time; do something, +Colts." + +The Colts did do something. They let the other side score twice. At +half-time Buller poured forth a superb torrent of rhetoric. And suddenly +there came over Gordon an uncontrollable desire to laugh. "The Bull" +looked so funny, with his hair ruffled, and his eyes flaming with wrath. +Gordon had to look the other way, or he would have burst into paroxysms +of laughter. When one is overexcited and worried, hysteria is not far +absent. Gordon turned away. + +Then suddenly he felt a terrific assault on his backside. Someone had +booted him most fiercely, and turning round he saw the face of Buller +still more distorted with rage. + +"Never saw such rudeness! Here am I trying to coach the rottenest side +that has ever disgraced a Fernhurst ground, and you haven't the manners +to listen to me. Good man, are you so perfect that you can afford to pay +no attention to me? For heaven's sake, don't make your footer like your +cricket, the slackest thing in the whole of Fernhurst. Come on, we'll go +on with this game." + +For ten more minutes "the Bull" watched the Colts making feverish +endeavours to do anything right. But his powers of endurance were not +equal to the strain. + +"Here," he shouted, as Harding was going up to change after +superintending a pick-up, "you might referee for about ten more minutes +here, will you? I can't bear the sight of the little slackers any +longer." + +A sigh of relief went up as the figure of Buller rolled out through the +field gate. Strangely enough, the Colts did rather better after this, +and Collins scored a really quite fine try. But the side left the field +glowing with resentment. None more than Gordon and Lovelace. + +"What does the fool mean by making a little ass like Burgoyne captain?" +complained Gordon. "Dirty little beast, who does not wash or shave. And +he hacked me up the bottom, too, the swine. I'm getting a bit sick of +'The Bull.'" + +"So am I. What we really want is my brother back again. He kept him in +order all right. My brother was a strong man, and did not stand any rot +from Buller or anyone else." + +"Hullo, you two, you look about fed up! What's the row?" + +They turned round; Mansell was coming up behind them. Lovelace burst out +perfervidly: + +"It's that fool Buller. He cursed the Colts all round, and he made +Burgoyne captain instead of me, and he hacked Gordon's bottom, and told +him he had no manners. Believe me, we have had a jolly afternoon." + +"And I suppose he said that he had captained Oxford, Cambridge, New +Zealand and the Fiji Islands, and that in his whole career he had never +seen anything like it." + +"Oh yes, he fairly rolled out his qualifications, like a maid-servant +applying for a post." + +"Oh, well, never mind," said Mansell; "he is a good chap, really, only +he can't keep his temper. He'll probably apologise to you both before +the end of the day. I remember Ferguson said once: 'All men are fools +and half of them are bloody fools.' Not so bad for Ferguson that! Cheer +up!" + +"Yes; but, damn it all, it is a bit thick," said Lovelace. "And a tick +like Burgoyne to boot." + +As they were changing, a fag from Buller's made a nervous entry; he +looked very lost, but finally summoned up enough courage to ask +Davenport if he knew where Caruthers was. + +"Yonder, sirrah, lurking behind the piano." + +The fag came up. + +"Oh--I say--er--Caruthers. 'The Bull'--er, I mean Mr Buller wants to see +you as soon as you are changed." + +"Right," said Gordon. + +"I said so," said Mansell; "he will weep over you and shake your hand +like a long-lost brother; and after you will follow Lovelace, who will +once more lead the lads with white jerseys and red dragons to victory +against Osborne. Good-bye; you needn't stop, you know," he informed the +fag, who was giving a stork-like performance, by gyrating first on one +foot then on another. + +"That means I shall miss my tea," said Gordon. + +"I fear so," answered Mansell. "I don't really think you can expect 'the +Bull' to receive you with crumpets and muffins and other goodly +delights. Of course to-morrow is Sunday; you might manage to work a +supper-party, but don't rely on it. Come and tell me the result of your +chat; you will find me in my study; don't knock; just walk in; you are +always welcome." + +As Gordon walked across the courts to Buller's study he had not the +slightest doubt as to how the interview would end. "The Bull" was often +like this. Only yesterday Foster had told him some long yarn of how he +had beaten a lad in Christy's and had hit his hand by mistake; and to +kick a person was, after all, a far more undignified method of assault. +It was almost actionable. Quite contentedly he knocked on the door and +went in. He was not, however, welcomed with open arms. "The Bull" stood +with his back to the door, facing the fireplace, his hands behind his +back. He did not speak for a minute or so. Gordon wondered if it would +be correct to take a chair. "The Bull" broke the silence. + +"Well, Caruthers, are you sorry for what happened this afternoon?" + +This took Gordon by surprise: it was hardly the interview he had been +led to expect. He murmured "Yes, sir" rather indistinctly. + +"Are you, though? Because if you are going to come in here and say you +are sorry, when you are not, simply to smooth things over, you would be +a pretty rotten sort of fellow." + +"Yes, sir." Gordon had recovered his self-control and was ready for a +fight. + +"Well, this is the way I look at things. I am here to coach Fernhurst +sides; it is my life's work. I love Fernhurst, and I have devoted all my +energy and care to help my old school, and it seems to me that you are +trying--you and Lovelace between you--to ruin my work and stand in my +light. Both of you as individuals are well worth your places in both +under-sixteen sides, football and cricket. As individuals, I say; and +you think you are indispensable to the side, and that we can't do +without you. You can afford to laugh when you miss catches, and not pay +attention to me when I am trying to give you the benefits of my +experience." + +"I heard every word----" + +"Will you kindly wait till I have finished. Fernhurst has done very well +in the past without you and Lovelace, and five years hence it will have +to do without you, and I am not going to have you interfere with the +present. You hate me, I dare say; from all I hear of you, you hate my +house; and you stir up sedition against me. You show the others how +much you care for me. And you are both people who have some influence in +your house, and wherever you are, for that matter. And are you using it +for the good of Fernhurst? You ruined all my pleasure in the cricket +Colts; but I don't care about myself. All I care for is Fernhurst. Why +did I stop Lovelace being captain? Because I want a man who is going to +back me up, who is going to play for the side and not for himself. And I +tell you I am going to drop Lovelace; he plays for himself; he gives +rotten passes; he upsets combination; and I won't have him on my side." + +Gordon could stand it no longer. + +"Sir, I am not going to hold a brief for myself. But you have not +treated Lovelace fairly. Last year on a trial game you kicked him out of +the side, only to find in a week that you could not do without him. And +to-day, sir, on a trial game you deposed him from the captaincy." + +"Do you mean to say that after playing Rugby football for twenty-five +years I don't know what I am talking about?" + +Gordon saw he had said too much. + +"And I am not talking about his play, I am talking about his general +attitude. Now, didn't you two rag about a good deal at the nets last +term?" + +"Well, sir, it was hardly ragging, sir----" + +"Oh, hardly ragging.... There must be no ragging.... If we are going to +turn out good sides we must be in dead earnest the whole time. You +imagine you are loyal to Fernhurst. My old sides followed me implicitly. +I loved them, and they loved me. We worked together for Fernhurst; now, +are you doing your best for Fernhurst?" + +Gordon was overwhelmed. He wanted to tell "the Bull" how mistaken he +was; that he and Lovelace did not hate him at all; that they were doing +their best; but that their sense of humour was at times too strong. But +it was useless. "The Bull" would not give him a chance. And he had +learnt from Mansell and Tester that "the Bull" could only see one point +of view at a time. And yet he was filled with an immense admiration for +this man who thought only of Fernhurst, who had worked for Fernhurst all +his life, who made Fernhurst's interests the standard for every +judgment and action. There was something essentially noble in so +unswerving a devotion. If only his love of Fernhurst had not made him so +complete an egoist. + +"Well, what is it to be, Caruthers?" Buller went on. "Are you going to +work with me or against me? When you first came you were keen and +willing. You are still keen, but you think too much of yourself now; you +imagine you know more than I do. Is all this going to stop? Are we going +to work together?" + +There was nothing to be gained by arguing. + +"Sir, I shall do my best to." + +"Well, I hope so, Caruthers. It is not for my own sake I mind; you see +that, don't you? It is Fernhurst that matters. We must all do our best +for Fernhurst. I hope we sha'n't have any more trouble, you will be a +power in the school some day, we must work together--for Fernhurst." + +"Yes, sir." + +Gordon walked to the door; as he put his hand on the knob he paused for +a second, then turned round. + +"Good-night, sir." + +"Good-night, Caruthers." + +He was out in the street again. There was a tremendous noise going on in +one of the Buller's studies. From the courts came sounds of barge +football. He did not feel as if he wanted to go and discuss everything +with Mansell for a minute or so. Slowly he wandered round the shrubbery, +past the big school, past the new buildings into the Abbey courtyard. He +sat down on a seat and tried to think. A girl came and sat beside him +and smiled at him invitingly. He took no notice. She sat there a minute +or so, then got up and walked off stiffly. The Abbey clock boomed out +the quarter to six. In a minute or so he would have to go back to tea. +He was worried. He liked "the Bull," admired him intensely; and yet "the +Bull" thought he hated him, thought him disloyal. Why could not Buller +keep his temper? Why must he rush to conclusions without weighing the +evidence? And "the Bull" was such a splendid man; he was one of the very +few masters Gordon respected in the least. He wanted "the Bull" to like +him. And then there was Lovelace. Why couldn't "the Bull" try to see +life as Lovelace saw it? Why must he want everyone to share the same +views as he, look at everything through the same spectacles? It wouldn't +have mattered if he was merely an insignificant busybody like Christy. +He was such a splendid fellow, such a man. It was all such a pity. And +yet he realised that he would have to try and bend his will to that of +Buller; he must endeavour to work side by side with him. It would not do +to have Fernhurst split up into two camps. In the past he had thought he +was doing his best; but "the Bull" wanted absolute subservience. And +what "the Bull" wanted he usually got. + +Lovelace, however, took quite a different view. He was mad with Buller. + +"Damn it all, it is not the first time the swine has done the dirty on +me. Look at the way he kicked me out of the side last year." + +"I know, that's what I told him. And he owned that both of us as +individuals were worth our places, but that we upset the side and rotted +about, and were always up against him." + +"Silly ass the man must be. We are keen enough, aren't we? But I damned +well don't see why we should treat footer and cricket like a chapel +service. We can laugh in form if anything funny happens; then why the +hell shouldn't we laugh on the field? And, my God, Caruthers, you did +look an ass when you missed that catch." Lovelace roared with laughter +at the thought of it. "The way you juggled with it, and old Bull tearing +his hair, oh, it was damned funny." + +"But, you see, 'the Bull' thinks games are everything, and, damn it all, +they are the things that really matter. We each may have our own private +interests. But games are the thing. Only personally I don't see why we +should not see the funny side of them. To 'the Bull' a dropped catch is +an everlasting disgrace." + +"Oh, let 'the Bull' go to blazes, I am sick of him. If he wants to kid +me out of the Colts, he can; and I'll go and enjoy myself on House +games. But look here, there is a Stoics debate to-night and it's nearly +roll-time. You had better go down and bag two seats." + +The Stoics society was of elastic proportions, including everyone above +IV. A, for a life subscription of sixpence, and during the winter term +it held meetings every other week in the School House reading-room. The +actual membership was over a hundred, but rarely more than fifty +attended, and of those who went only fifty per cent. paid any attention +to the proceedings. The rest looked on it as a good excuse for getting +off work. Three quarters of the society were from the School House, and +these arrived with deck chairs, cushions and a novel, and thoroughly +enjoyed themselves. Christy was the president, and this was to a great +extent the reason for so general an atmosphere of boredom and +indifference. For Christy was the typical product of conventionality and +pharisaism. He was so thoroughly contented with anything he +superintended that he refused to believe any improvement was possible. +But this year Betteridge was honorary secretary and had tried to infuse +a little life into the society. The subject for the first debate of the +term was "Classical and Modern Education," and Ferrers was going to +speak for the modern side. Ferrers was always writing to the papers, and +was already well known in the common room as a feverish orator. A good +deal had been rumoured about him, and the school were rather anxious to +hear him. There was quite a large audience. At about twenty past seven +Christy came in, and everyone stood up till he had sat down. Burgess was +to open the debate for the classics, and Christy was to second him. +Ferrers and Pothering, the head of Claremont's, were for the moderns. +The debate was supposed to open at twenty past the hour. But Ferrers had +not arrived. There was an awkward pause. At last Christy got up. + +"I really think it is useless to wait any longer for Mr Ferrers. We will +proceed. The motion before the House is: That in the opinion of this +House a classical education is more efficacious than a modern one. I +will call on Mr Burgess to open the motion." + +There was a little clapping as Burgess got up with a customary display +of conceit. He ran his hand through his hair and took a glance at his +notes, and then began with the blase air of Mercury addressing a +Salvation Army meeting. + +"Of course those in favour of modern education will defend themselves on +the grounds of general utility. They will point out the uselessness of +Greek in business; all I can say to that is that the Public School man +should be too much of a gentleman to wish to succeed in business. He +should aim higher; he should follow the ideals set before him by the +classics. Nearly all the poets and politicians of to-day are Public +School men; nearly all ..." + +He went on rolling off absurdly dogmatic statements that were based +solely on ignorance and arrogance. He was of the Rogers' school of +oratory. He believed that a sufficient amount of conceit and +self-possession would carry anyone through. About half-way through his +speech he was interrupted by the approach of a whirlwind. There was a +sound of feet on the stone passage, something crashed against the door, +and in rolled Ferrers in a most untidy blue suit, a soft collar, an +immense woollen waistcoat, and three books under his arm. These he +slammed on the table, in company with his cap. + +"Awfully sorry, Christy, old fellow ... been kept ... new lot of books +from Methuen's ... had to take one up to my wife ... rather ill, you +know.... Fire away, Burgess." + +All his remarks were flung off in jerks at a terrific rate. The abashed +orator concluded rather prematurely and rather wildly; such an incursion +was most irregular and very perplexing. + +"I will now call on Mr Ferrers to speak." + +Up leapt Ferrers and began at once firing off his speech at the pace of +a cinematograph. He was full of mannerisms. He would clap his hand over +his eyes when he wanted to think of something, and would then spread it +out straight before him. It was rather dangerous to get close. He would +pick up one of his books and shake it in the face of Christy. + +"This is what Mackenzie says ... in _Sinister Street_ ... fine book ... +smashes up everything, shows the shallowness of our education ... this +is what he says...." + +After he had read a few words, he would bang the book down on the table +and continue pouring forth inextricable anacolutha. Everyone was +listening; they had never heard anything like this before. It was a +revelation. Christy chewed his finger-nails. Burgess assumed an air of +Olympian content. The flood of rhetoric rolled on: + +"It is like this, you see; the classical education makes you imitate all +the time ... Greek Prose like Sophocles ... Latin Verse like +Petronius.... I don't know if I have got the names right ... probably +not ... never could stick doing it. There is no free thought. Classics +men do very well in the Foreign Offices, but they can't think.... What +do classics do in the literary world? Nothing. Bennett, Lloyd George, +Wells--the best men never went to a Public School.... We want +originality; and the classics don't give it. They are all right for a +year or so to give a grounding of taste ... though they don't give that +to the average boy ... but no more. What did I learn from +classics?--only to devise a new way of bringing a crib into form.... Is +that an education? No, we want French, jolly few cribs to be got of +Daudet that are any use to the Lower Fifth ... Maths, that's the stuff +... makes them think.... Riders ... get them out your own way--not +Vergil's way or Socrates' way--your own way--originality...." + +In this strain he talked for a quarter of an hour, and held the audience +spellbound. He had really interested them. Here was something new, +something worth listening to. He was received with a roar of clapping. + +After his speech everything else fell flat. Christy made one or two +super-subtle remarks which no one understood. There was nothing left for +Pothering to say; the motion was then put before the House and the +debate developed into a farce. Idiot after idiot got up and made some +infantile qualification of an earlier statement--all of them talked off +the point. So much so, in fact, that Turner was beginning a tale of a +fight he had had with a coster down Cheap Street when Christy called him +to order. + +Gordon at once rose in protest. + +"Gentlemen, I address the Chair. It is preposterous that Mr Turner +should have been refused a hearing. We may have lost what would perhaps +have thrown new light on the subject. Doubtless he had carefully +selected this particular anecdote out of a life, alas, too full of +excitement" (a roar greeted this, Christy had beaten Turner that very +morning for eating chocolates in German), "with the express view of +pointing out the superiority of the classics. Doubtless the rough in +question, not knowing the custom in Homeric contests, had failed to +propitiate the gods, while he, the narrator, had rushed into Back Lane +behind Mother Beehive's charming old-world residence, and having offered +a prayer to Mars, waited for his burly antagonist in the darkness, and +as the vile man, clearly one of St Paul's 'god haters'" (that time the +Sixth were reading the "Romans") "thundered by, he smote him with a +stone above the eye, and left him discomfited and, like OEdipus, well +nigh blind. Here we see----" + +But the meeting never found out what they really saw. Gordon was called +to order, and sat down amid a tumult of applause. One or two more +speakers brought fresh evidence to bear on the subject; and then there +was the division. The moderns won by a huge majority. As the rabble +passed into the passage Gordon heard Ferrers say to Christy in his most +patronising manner: + +"Rather wiped the ground with you, didn't we?... Well, never mind, you +stood no earthly.... Days of the classics are over. Still, you fought +well.... Third line of defence--_ad triarios_.... I remember a bit of my +classics." + +Gordon was borne out on the stream past the matron's room to the end of +the passage, and the rest of Ferrers's speech was lost. + +From this day the Stoics underwent a complete change. The whole nature +of the society was altered. Ferrers was so absolutely different from +anything that a master had appeared to be from time immemorial. He was +essentially of the new generation, an iconoclast, a follower of Brooke +and Gilbert Cannan, heedless of tradition, probing the root of +everything. At the end of the term Christy resigned his presidency. He +could not keep pace with the whirlwind Ferrers. + +"You know, Caruthers," said Tester in second hall, "whatever our +personal feelings may be, we have got to allow that this man Ferrers has +got something in him." + +"Something! Why, I thought him simply glorious. Here he is bursting in +on the prude conventionality of Fernhurst full of new ideas, smashing up +the things that have been accepted unquestionably for years. By Jove, +the rest of the staff must hate him." + +"There was a thing by him in the _A.M.A._ the other day that caused +considerable annoyance, I believe. I didn't read the thing myself, but I +heard 'the Bull' saying it was disgraceful that a Fernhurst master +should be allowed to say such things. I suppose he said something +against games." + +"Well, damn it all, if he did, he is in the wrong. Games are absolutely +necessary. What on earth would the country be like without them?" + +"A damned sight better, I should think." + +"Oh, don't be an ass. Just look at the fellows who don't play games, +Rudd and Co. What wrecks they are! Utterly useless. We could do +perfectly well without them. Could not we now?" + +At this point Betteridge strolled in very leisurely. Authority had made +him a dignified person. The days of ragging Trundle seemed very distant. +He did not go about with Mansell so much now. He was more often with +Carter and Harding. + +"Betteridge, come in and sit down," said Tester; "we were arguing on the +value of games. Don't you agree with me that it's about time a man like +Ferrers made a sensible attack on them?" + +"Yes; though I doubt if Ferrers is quite the man to do it. He is such a +revolutionary. He would want to smash everything at once. A gradual +change is what is needed. I look at it like this. Games are all right in +themselves. A man must keep himself physically fit; but games are only a +means to an end. The object of all progress is to get a clear, +clean-sighted race, intellectual and broadminded. And I think physical +fitness is a great help in the production of a clear, clean mind. The +very clever man who is weak bodily is so apt to become a decadent; and +because he himself can't stand any real exertion, despises those who +can. Games are necessary as a means to an end. But Buller and all the +rest of the lot think games are the actual end. Look at the way a man +with his footer cap is idealised and worshipped. He may be an utter +rake; probably is, most likely he has no brains at all. If he ever had +them, he soon ceased to use them, and devotes all his energies to +athletic success. Why should we worship him? Merely because he can kick +a rotten football down a rotten field. It is this worship of athletics +that is so wrong." + +"Oh, you are talking rot," burst out Gordon angrily; "the English race +is the finest in the whole world and has been bred on footer and +cricket. I own the Public School system has its faults; but not because +of games. It stamps out personality, tries to make types of us all, +refuses to allow us to think for ourselves. We have to read and pretend +to like what our masters tell us to. No freedom. But games are all +right. We all have our own interests. Poetry is my chief one at present. +But that doesn't blind me to the fact that games are what count. Where +should we be without them? And I damn well hope the House is not going +to get into a finicky, affected state of mind, despising them because +they are too slack to play them. That's why you hate them, Betteridge, +because you are no good at them. My great ambition is to be captain of +this House and win the Three Cock. Of course the worship of sport is all +right. Our fathers worshipped it, and damned good fellows they were, +too. I can't stand you when you talk like this. I am going to find +Lovelace; he has got a bit of sense." + +The door slammed noisily behind him. + +"He is very young," said Betteridge. + +"Yes; and full of hopes," murmured Tester. "It is a pity to think he +will have to be so soon disillusioned. Very little remains the same for +long. Pleasure is very evanescent." + +Betteridge looked at him a little curiously. + +"I should not have thought you would have found that out," he said. + +Tester shrugged. + +"Oh, well, you know, even the fastest of us get tired of our licence at +times. Byron would have become a Benedictine monk if he had lived to be +fifty." + +Betteridge smiled, and picking up a Browning from the table sank into an +easy-chair to read. + +Tester remained looking into the fire. What a fool he had been to give +himself away just then. It was his great object never to let anyone see +into his soul. He had once shown Caruthers what he was, because he could +not bear to see a person of ability wasting himself for want of high +ideals. He had tried to show him that there was something above the +commonplace routine of life. And in a way he had succeeded. Caruthers +often came in in the evenings to discuss poetry with him, and those were +some of the happiest moments of his life. He was not sorry that he had +poured out his heart to him. Of course Caruthers was still young, was +still under the influence of environment. But in time he was sure to +realise that athletics were not the aim of life, but only a tavern on +the wayside, where we may rest for a little, or which we may pass by, +just as our fancy takes us. If Caruthers saw this at last, he would then +have done at least something not altogether vain. + +For, after all, what a useless life his had been. The road he had +travelled seemed white with the skeletons of broken hopes. In the +glowing coals he saw the pageant of his past unroll itself. He had never +been quite the normal person. His father was a minor poet, and for as +long as he could remember his house had been full of literary people. +Arthur Symons and George Moore had often discussed the relations between +art and life across his fireplace. Yeats had told him stories of strange +Irish myths; Thomas Hardy had read to him once or twice. He had spent +his whole life with men who thought for themselves, who had despised the +conventions of their day, and he himself had ceased to believe in +anything except what personal experience taught him. He had resolved to +find out things for himself. And what, after all, had he discovered? +Little except the vanity of mortal things. In his friendship with +Stapleton he had for a term or so found a temporary peace, but it had +not been for long. As soon as he achieved anything it seemed to collapse +before him. He had at times sought to forget his failures in blind fits +of passion, but when the fire was burnt out the old world was the old +world yet! In books alone he found a lasting comfort. The school looked +on him as "quite a decent chap, awfully fast, of course, doesn't care a +damn what he does, just lives to enjoy himself and have a damned good +time." He smiled at the irony of it all. If they only knew! But they +could never know. He had made a mistake in saying so much to Betteridge; +he must not do it again. He must go on probing everything to discover +where, if anywhere, was that complete peace, that perfect beauty that he +had set out to find. In the meantime the destiny of his life would +unfold itself. He would follow where his inclinations led him. + +The evening bell broke into his reverie. + +He stretched himself. + +"Come on, Betteridge. Let us have a rag to-night." + +"Oh, I don't think I will, I am rather sleepy." Betteridge was aware of +his position. To Tester being a prefect signified very little. + +That night Carter's dormitory was submitted to a most fearful raid. +Water flowed everywhere. Two sheets were ripped and a jug broken. Rudd's +bed was upset on the floor with Rudd underneath. + +"By Jove, Caruthers," said Lovelace, from Harding's well-behaved +dormitory, "that man Tester is some lad." + +And Gordon thought, as he saw him laying about him full lustily with a +pillow, that all his talk about games must be merely a damned +affectation. He was really like any ordinary fellow. + +When peace was at last restored, and he had led home his victorious +forces, Tester laughed quietly to himself, as he watched the moonlight +falling across a huge pool of water. He had played his part pretty well. + + * * * * * + +For the rest of the term life flowed easily with Gordon. There were no +further rows with "the Bull"; in fact their row seemed, for a time at +any rate, to have brought them closer together. Both seemed anxious to +be friends with one another, and on the football field Gordon's play +gave really very little cause for complaint. For this term his football +reached his highest level. In following seasons he played good games on +occasions, but he never equalled the standard he set himself in the +Colts. It was one of Gordon's chief characteristics that he usually did +well while others failed, and this term the Colts for some reason or +other never properly got together. The side kept on being altered. For +a week after the row Lovelace was kept out of the side; but it was soon +obvious that his presence was absolutely necessary. + +"What did I say," said Gordon. "You see, 'the Bull's' madness doesn't +last for long. He got a bit fed up with you, Lovelace, so he made +himself imagine your football was bad. He can always make himself think +what he likes." + +"Yes; but it is rather a nuisance," Mansell remarked, "when you realise +it is always House men who have to do the Jekyll and Hyde business." + +"Good Lord! Mansell, you are becoming literary," laughed Gordon. "How +did you hear of Jekyll and Hyde?" + +"Claremont has been reading the thing on Sunday mornings; not so bad for +a fool like Stevenson. It rather reminded me of _The Doctor's Double_, +by Nat Gould; only, of course, it is not half so good." + +"No, that is a fact," said Lovelace. "Nat Gould is the finest author +alive. I read some stuff in a paper the other day about books being true +to life. Well, you could not get anything more true than _The Double +Event_; and race-horsing is the most important thing in life, too. I +sent up the other day for six of his books; they ought to be here +to-morrow." + +"Well, for God's sake, don't bring them in here," said Gordon, "there is +enough mess as it is with _The Sportsmans_ of the last month trailing +all over the place." + +"Oh, have some sense, man; you don't know what literature is." + +Gordon subsided. All his new theories of art collapsed very easily +before the honest Philistinism of Lovelace and Mansell; for he was not +quite sure of his own views himself. He loved poetry, because it seemed +to express his own emotions so adequately. Byron's "Tempest-anger, +Tempest-mirth" was as balm to his rebellious soul. Rebellion was, in +fact, at this time almost a religion with him. Only a few days back he +had discovered Byron's sweeping confession of faith, "I have simplified +my politics into an utter detestation of all existing governments," and +he found it a most self-satisfying doctrine. That was what his own life +should be. He would fight against these masters with their +old-fashioned and puritanic notions; he would be the preacher of the new +ideas. It was all very crude, very impossible, but at the back of this +torrid violence lay an honest desire to better conditions, tempered, it +must be owned, with an ambition to fill the middle of the stage himself. +In his imagination he became a second Byron. He saw, or thought he saw, +the mistakes of the system under which he lived; and--without pausing to +consider its merits--wished to sweep away the whole foundation into the +sea, and to build upon some illusory basis a new heaven and new earth. +He had yet to read the essay in which Matthew Arnold says that "Byron +shattered, inevitably shattered himself against the black rock of +British Philistinism." He was at present full of hope. The Poetry of +Revolt coloured his imagination to such a degree that he saw himself +standing alone and triumphant amid the wreck of the world he had +overthrown. He was always protesting that Swinburne's finest line was in +the _Hymn to Proserpine_: + + "_I neither kneel nor adore them, but standing look to the end._" + +It raises a wonderful picture to a young imagination: Swinburne standing +on a mountain, looking across the valley of years in which man fights +feverishly for little things, in which nations rise to empire for a +short while, in which constitutions totter and fall, looking to where, +far away behind the mountains, flickered the faint white streamers of +the dawn. Oh, he was very young; very conceited too, no doubt; but is +there anyone who, having lived longer, having seen many bright dreams go +down, having been disillusioned, and having realised that he is but a +particle in an immense machine, would not change places with Gordon, and +see life once more roseflushed with impossible loyalties? + + * * * * * + +In its passage school life seems very long; in retrospect it appears but +a few hours. There is such a sameness about everything. A few incidents +here and there stand out clear, but, as a whole, day gives place to day +without differing much from those that have gone before it. We do not +realise this till we can look back on them from a distance; but it is +none the less true. + +In the Sixth Gordon's scholastic career took the way of all other +fugitive things. It had once given promise of leading somewhere, of +resulting in something, but it wanted more than ordinary perseverance to +overcome the atmosphere of the deep-rooted objection to work that +overhung all the proceedings in the Sixth Form room. And that +perseverance Gordon lamentably lacked. + +The Lower Sixth was mainly under the supervision of Mr Finnemore; and it +was a daily wonder to Gordon why a person so obviously unfitted should +have been entrusted with so heavy a responsibility. Finally he came to +the conclusion that the last headmaster had thought that the Sixth Form +would probably make less fun and take fewer liberties with him than any +other form, and that when the present Chief had come he had not had the +heart to remove a school institution. Mr Finnemore was an oldish man, +getting on for sixty, and his hair was white. He had a long moustache, +his clothes carried the odour of stale tobacco, his legs seemed hung on +to his body by hooks that every day appeared less likely to maintain the +weight attached to them. His face wore a self-depreciatory smile. He was +most mercilessly "ragged." + +The day when he took exams in big school will never be forgotten. Gordon +was then in V.A. The Sixth, the Army class and the Upper Fifth were all +supposed to be preparing for some future paper. All three forms had, of +course, nothing to do. The Chief was in London. + +At four-fifteen Finnemore was observed to be moving in his strange way +across the courts. With an almost suspicious quietness the oak desks +were filled. + +"What are you doing to-day, Lane?" Finnemore asked the head of the +school. + +"I believe, sir, we are supposed to be preparing something." + +"Ah, excellent; excellent, a very good opportunity for putting in some +good, hard work. Excellent! Excellent!" + +For about three minutes there was peace. Then Ferguson lethargically +arose. He strolled up the steps to the dais, and leaning against the +organ loft began to speak: + +"Gentlemen, as not only the Sixth Form, but also the Army class and +Upper Fifth, are gathered here this afternoon with no very ostensible +reason for work, I suggest that we should hold, on a small scale, a +Bacchic festival. This will, of course, be not only entertaining but +also instructive. 'Life consists in knowing where to stop, and going a +little further,' once said H.H. Monro. Let us follow his advice--and +that of the Greeks. First, let us shove the desks against the wall and +make ready for the dance." + +It had all been prepared beforehand. In a few minutes several hundred +books had been dropped, several ink-pots lay smashed on the floor. There +was a noise of furious thunder, and at last all the desks somehow got +shoved against the wall. + +Finnemore was "magnificently unprepared." He lay back nervously in his +chair, fingering his moustache. + +"This must now cease," he said. + +"No, really, sir" protested Ferguson; "everything is all right. Mr +Carter, will you oblige us by playing the piano. I myself will conduct." + +The floor of the big school is made of exquisitely polished oak, and is +one of the glories of Fernhurst. It was admirably suited for the dance +which within five minutes was in progress. It was a noble affair. +Finnemore sat back in his chair powerless, impotent; Carter hammered out +false notes on a long-suffering piano. Ferguson beat time at the top of +the dais, with a pen gently waving between his fingers, as gracefully as +the pierrots of Aubrey Beardsley play with feathers. Down below heavy +feet pretended to dance to an impossible tune. Someone began a song, +others followed suit, and before long the austere sanctity of the room +was violated by the flat melodies of _Hitchy-Koo_. It was indeed an act +of vandalism. But the rioters had forgotten that they were distinctly +audible from without. In the Chief's absence they had thought a row out +of the question. + +Unfortunately, however, "the Bull's" class-room was only a few yards +off. When first he heard the strains of revelling borne upwards he +thought it must be the choir practising for the Christmas concert. But +it did not take long for him to appreciate that such a supposition was +out of the question. The noise was deafening. He could hardly hear +himself talk; investigation must be made. He got up and walked out into +the courts, made his way to the big school, and opening the door +revealed the scene that has just been described. For a second or so he +stood speechless. He felt much as Moses might have felt, if he had seen +a tribe of Gentiles invading the Holy of Holies. Then his voice rang +out: + +"What is the meaning of this unseemly disturbance?" + +A sudden silence fell over the revellers, as in Poe's story of the red +death when the stranger entered the room. + +Buller looked around. + +"My form, the Army class, will follow me." + +Disconsolately his form found their books and moved out of the room, +fully aware that they would shortly have to pay full price for their +pleasure. Over the remainder there fell a chill feeling of uncertainty. +A few spasmodic efforts were made to carry on, but the light-heartedness +was gone. The laughter was forced. Finally noise subsided into +whispering, and whispering into silence and the scratching of pens. + +There loomed before the Sixth Form visions of a very unpleasant +interview with the Chief, and their expectations were not disappointed. +The whole form had to stay back on the last day and write out a Georgic. +Only the Fifth got off scot-free. Macdonald was told to deal with them, +but he saw the humour of the affair too strongly to do anything but +laugh. + +"These Cambridge men--can't keep order. No good at all. Can't think why +the Chief took him." And then, after a pause; "I wish I had been there!" + +The result of this was that for the future Finnemore was treated with a +little more respect. The Sixth decided that dances did not pay, and so +contented themselves with less noisy but little less aggravating +amusements. For instance, Finnemore's hatred of Browning was a byword; +so one day the entire form decided to learn _The Lost Leader_ for +repetition. For a while Finnemore bore it patiently, but when a burly +chemistry specialist walked up to within two feet of him and began to +bawl so loudly that his actual words were distinguishable in the School +House studies, the master covered his face with his hands and murmured: +"Oh, heaven spare me this infliction!" + +On another occasion Betteridge walked quietly up to him, handed him a +Shelley, and without any warning suddenly shrieked out: + + "He hath outsoared the shadow of our night." + +Finnemore looked at him sadly: "My dear Betteridge, so early in the +morning!" + +By many little things his life was made wretched for him. But yet he +would not have chosen any other profession. He had once started life +with very high hopes, but had discovered that the world is not in +sympathy with men of ideas who do not prophesy smooth things. And so at +an early age he found himself disappointed in all his personal aims. It +seemed that he had to harbour only the simplest wish to find it denied. +And then he realised that for the loss of youth there can be no +compensation, and that in youth alone happiness could be found. And so +he had decided to spend his life in company with high hopes and smiling +faces. There were times when an immense sadness came over him, when he +thought that disillusionment was waiting for so many of them and that +there were few who would "carry their looks or their truth to the +grave." But on the whole he was as happy as his temperament could allow +him, and Gordon, although in a sense he was the very antithesis of all +that he admired most, found himself strangely in sympathy with his new +master. One day the subject for an essay was "Conventionality," and +Gordon unpacked his torrid soul in a wild abuse of all existing +governments. After he had written it, he got rather nervous about its +reception, but it was returned marked _a_-, and Finnemore had written at +the bottom: "We all think like this when we are young; and, after all, +it is good to be young." + +Gordon felt that he had found someone who understood him. + +Finnemore lived in two rooms over the masters' common room, which had +from time immemorial been the possession of the Sixth Form tutor, and in +the evenings when Gordon used to have his prose corrected Finnemore +would often ask him to stay behind and have some coffee. Then the two +would talk about poetry and art and life till the broken bell rang out +its cracked imperious summons. Finnemore had once published a small book +of verses, a copy of which he gave to Gordon. They had in them all the +frail pathos of a wasted career; most of them were songs of spurned +affection, and inside was the quotation: "_Scribere jussit amor_." + +"When I look at that book," said Finnemore to Gordon, "I can't associate +myself with the author, I seem to have quite outgrown him. And as I +recall the verses I say to myself, 'Poor fellow, life was hard to you,' +and I wonder if he really was myself." + +With him Gordon saw life from a different angle. He presented the +spectacle of failure, and it rather sobered Gordon's wild enthusiasm, at +times, to feel himself so close to anything so bitterly poignant. But +the hour of youth's domination, even if it be but an hour, is too full +of excitement and confidence to be overclouded by doubts for very long. +Usually Gordon saw in him a pathetic shadow whom he patronised. He did +not realise that it was what he himself might become. + +Through the long tedious hours in the shadowy class-room Gordon dreamed +of wonderful successes, and let others pass him by in the rush for +promotion. He began to think that prizes and form lists were not worth +worrying about; he said a classical education had such a narrowing +effect on character. We can always produce arguments to back up an +inclination if we want to. And in Finnemore there was no force to stir +anyone to do what they did not want. + +Only once a day was Gordon at all industrious, and that was when the +Chief took the Lower and Upper Sixth Form combined in Horace and +Thucydides. + +For the Chief Gordon always worked; not, it is true, with any real +measure of success, for he had rather got out of the habit of grinding +at the classics, but at any rate with energy. And during these hours he +began to perceive vaguely what a clear-sighted, unprejudiced mind the +Chief had. To the boy in the Fourth and Fifth forms any headmaster must +appear not so much a living person as the emblem of authority, the final +dispenser of justice, the hard, analytical sifter of evidence, "coldly +sublime, intolerably just." Gordon had always before looked on the Chief +as a figurehead, who at times would unbend most surprisingly and become +a man; on the cricket field, for example, when in a master's match he +had fielded cleanly a terrific cut at point, and played a sporting +innings; at House suppers, and, most surprisingly of all, when a row was +on, Gordon had been unable to understand him. He could not dissociate +him from his conception of a headmaster--a sort of Mercury, a divine +emissary of the gods, sent as a necessary infliction. Yet at times the +Chief was intensely human, and when Gordon came under his immediate +influence and caught a glimpse of his methods, he saw in a flash that at +all times his headmaster was a generous, sympathetic nature, and that it +was his own distorted view that had ever made him think otherwise. The +Chief was so ready to appreciate a joke, so quick with an answer, so +unassuming, so utterly the antithesis of any master he had met before. + +There were one or two incidents that stood out clearer than any others +in Gordon's memories of his Chief. + +At the very beginning of the term, before a start had been made on the +term's work, the Chief was talking about Horace's life and +characteristics. + +"Now, Tester," he said, "if you were asked to sum up Horace's outlook on +life in a single phrase, what would you say?" + +Tester thought for a minute or so. + +"Let us eat and drink, for to-morrow we die," he hazarded. + +The form laughed. It seemed rather a daring generalisation. But the +Chief's answer came back pat: + +"Well, hardly that, Tester. Shall we say, Let us eat and drink, but not +too much, or we shall have a stomach-ache to-morrow?" + +He had taken Tester's quite erroneous estimate as a basis, and had +exactly hit off Horace's character. + +But the following incident more than any other brought home to Gordon +how extraordinarily broadminded the Chief was. Carter was construing, +and had made a most preposterous howler, it does not matter what. He +had learnt the translation in the notes by heart, and quite failed to +connect it verbatim with the Greek. + +"There now, you see how utterly absurd you are," said the Chief. "You +have not taken the trouble to look the words up in a dictionary. Just +because you see what you think is a literal translation in the notes. +There lies the fatal error of using cribs. Of course when I catch a boy +in Shell or IV. A using one, I drop on him not only for slackness but +dishonesty. The boy is taking an unfair advantage of the rest and +getting promotion undeservedly. But in the Sixth Form you have got +beyond that stage. We don't worry much about marks here, so there is +nothing immoral in using a crib. It is merely silly. It tends to slack +translation which in the end ruins scholarship. And by using the notes +as you do, Carter, you are doing the same thing. You really must use +more common-sense. Go on, please, Harding." + +Gordon was amazed at such a broadminded view of cribbing. He had long +since grown weary of preachers who talked about dishonesty, without +seeming to draw a line between active dishonesty and passive slackness. +The Chief realised that it was deliberate slackness that led to +dishonesty, not dishonesty that was incidentally slack. The Chief must +be a very wise man. + +Nevertheless his admiration of the Chief did not make him do any more +work than was strictly necessary; and Gordon began to drift into a +peaceful academic groove, where he did just enough work to pass +unnoticed--neither good nor bad. He had grown tired of ragging. It was +such an effort, especially when the call of football demanded of every +ounce of energy. To drift down-stream may spell mediocrity, but it also +spells security, and, after all, there was little danger of Gordon +becoming a mediocrity in other branches of school life. He was far too +ambitious for that, but his ambitions were not academic. House politics +and athletics were sufficient burdens for one man in one lifetime. +"Other heights in other lives"; and Gordon believed in doing a few +things well. + +It was more than lucky for Gordon's future that this term he found +himself a success on the football field. If he had not, he would +probably have sought a prominent position in the eyes of the school by +more doubtful paths; but as it was there was no need for him to plunge +into wild escapades to get noticed. His football attracted quite enough +attention. People spoke of his chances of getting into the Fifteen next +year. The Milton match was his greatest triumph, mainly because the rest +of the side did badly. Lovelace played back and made one or two fine +runs when he got the ball, but as a whole the side played very +half-heartedly. Burgoyne was off colour, and Collins's excuse that he +had been overworking lately did not save him from being kicked out of +the side after the match. But Gordon, who had got his Colts' badge on +the morning of the match, and so was relieved of any anxieties about his +place, played what he always said was his best game; so much so, in +fact, that Buller after the match, said: + +"Rotten, absolutely rotten, with the exception of Caruthers, who played +magnificently." + +There was only one blot on his performance, and that, though everyone +laughed about it, caused Gordon some regretful moments afterwards. +Rightly or wrongly Gordon thought the opposite scrum half was not +putting the ball in straight. Gordon told him what he thought of him. +The scrum half called him "a bloody interfering bastard," and told him +to go to hell. The next time the scrum half got the ball Gordon flung +him with unnecessary force, when he was already in touch, right into the +ropes. And from then onwards the relations between Gordon and the scrum +half were those of a scrapping match. Gordon came off best. He got a +bruise on the left thigh, but no one could notice that, while his +opponent had a bleeding nose and a cut lip. The school was amused, but +Gordon overheard a Milton man say: "I don't think much of the way these +Fernhurst men play the game. Look at that tick of a forward there. Dirty +swine!" + +After the game Gordon apologised to the half, and exchanged the usual +compliments; but he could see that the rest of the Milton side were not +at all pleased. + +He spoke to Mansell about it. + +"My dear man, don't you worry. You played a jolly fine game this +afternoon, and if you go on like that you are a cert. for your Firsts +next year. You played a damned hard game." + +"Yes; but it is rather a bad thing for the school, isn't it, if we get a +reputation for playing rough?" + +"But you weren't playing foul, and Buller always tells us to go hard and +play as rough as we like." + +"Yes; but still----" + +He was not quite reassured, though everyone told him it was all right. +However, if "the Bull" made no comment, it looked as if nothing could be +wrong. As a matter of fact, "the Bull" had not noticed; and though +Christy, in a fit of righteous indignation, poured out a long story to +him, he only smiled. + +"Oh, well, I expect he got a bit excited. First time he had played +footer for a school side.... I was a bit fierce my first game for +England. Don't blame him. He's a keen kid, and I am sure the other side +did not mind." + +Christy mumbled indistinctly. No one ever seemed to take much notice of +what he said. That evening, however, he and Rogers, over a glass of +port, agreed that Caruthers was a thoroughly objectionable young fellow +who ought to be taken in hand, and with this Christian sentiment to +inspire him Rogers went home to put a few finishing touches to his +sermon for the next day. + + + + +CHAPTER II: CARNIVAL + + +The tradition of Pack Monday Fair at Fernhurst is almost as old as the +School House studies. The legend, whether authenticated or not only +Macdonald, the historian of Fernhurst, could say, was handed down from +generation to generation. It was believed that, when the building of the +Abbey was finished, all the masons, glass-workers and artificers packed +up their tools and paraded the town with music and song, celebrating the +glory of their accomplished work. And from time immemorial the +townspeople have celebrated the second Monday in October by assembling +outside the Abbey at midnight, and ushering in a day of marketing and +revelry by a procession through the town, beating tin cans and blowing +upon posthorns. With the exception of this ritual, the day had become +merely an ordinary fair. But there was no sleeping on that Sunday night, +and for the whole week tantalising sounds of shrieking merry-go-rounds, +of whistling tramcars and thundering switchbacks were borne across the +night to disturb those who were trying to work in hall. It used to be +the custom for the bloods to creep out at night and take part in the +revels; but when the new Chief had come, four years before, he put a +firm hand upon such abuses, and had even threatened to expel anyone he +found in the act, a threat which he had carried out promptly by +expelling the best half-back in the school a fortnight before the +Dulbridge match; so that now only a few daring spirits stole out in the +small hours of the night on the hazardous expedition. Those courageous +souls were the objects of the deepest veneration among the smaller boys, +who would whisper quietly of their doings in the upper dormitories when +darkness lent a general security to the secrets that were being +revealed. + +This term about three days before Pack Monday, Gordon, Mansell, Carter +and a few others were engaged in their favourite hobby of shipping +Rudd's study. One chair had already gone the way of all old wood, and +the table was in danger of following it, when Rudd suddenly burst out: + +"Oh, you think yourselves damned fine fellows, six of you against one!" + +A roar of laughter went up. It was the traditional complaint of all +weaklings in school stories, and was singularly of the preparatory +school type of defence. + +"Jolly brave, aren't you? I'd like to see any one of you do anything +that might get you into trouble. I don't mind betting there's not one of +you that would dare to come out with me to the fair next Monday." + +There was an awkward pause. The challenge was unconventional; and the +Public School boy is not brought up to expect surprises. The only thing +to do was to pass it off with a joke. + +Lovelace stepped into the breach. + +"Do you think any of us would go anywhere with a swine like you who does +not wash? Dirty hog!" + +"Of course you would not; you are afraid." + +At that point Gordon's hatred of taking the second place, which had +before led him into difficulties, once again asserted itself. "Damn it +all," he thought, "I am not going to be beaten by Rudd!" + +"Do you say we are all funks if we don't go?" + +"Yes!" + +"All right then, damn you, I will go with you, just to show you that you +are not the only person in this rotten school who's fool enough to risk +being bunked." + +Rudd was taken aback. He had made the challenge out of bravado. He had +regretted it instantly. In the same spirit Gordon had accepted the +challenge; he also wished he had not the moment afterwards. But both saw +that they would have to go through with it now. + +"Good man," said Rudd, not to be outdone. "I wanted someone to go with +me; rather lonely these little excursions without company." + +He spoke with the air of one who spent every other night giving +dinner-parties at the Eversham Tap. + +"Look here, now," broke in Mansell, "don't make bloody fools of +yourselves. You will only get the sack if you are caught, and you +probably will get caught; you are sure to do something silly. For God's +sake, don't go. It's not worth it. Really, not!" + +"Oh, shut up; don't panic," was Gordon's scornful answer; "we are going +to have a fine time, aren't we, Rudd?" + +"Splendid," said Rudd, who wanted to laugh; the whole situation was +fraught with such a perfectly impossible irony. + +"Oh, do have some sense, man." Lovelace was impatient with him. "What is +the use of rushing about at midnight in slouch hats with a lot of silly, +shrieking girls?" + +"You can't understand, you live in the country. I am a Londoner. You +want the true Cockney spirit that goes rolling drunk on Hampstead Heath +on Easter Monday." + +"Well, thank God, I do want it, then," said Lovelace. + +Rumour flies round a house quickly. In hall several people came up and +asked Gordon if it was true. They looked at him curiously with an +expression in which surprise and admiration were curiously blended. The +old love of notoriety swept over Gordon once more; he felt frightfully +bucked with himself. What a devil of a fellow he was, to be sure. He +went round the studies in hall, proclaiming his audacity. + +"I say, look here, old chap, you needn't tell anyone, but I am going out +to Pack Monday Fair; it will be some rag!" + +The sensation he caused was highly gratifying. By prayers all his +friends and most of his acquaintances knew of it. Of course they would +keep it secret. But Gordon knew well that by break next day it would be +round the outhouses, and he looked forward to the number of questions he +would get asked. To be the hero of an impending escapade was pleasant. + +"I say, Davenport," he said in his dormitory that evening, "I am going +out to the fair on Monday." + +Davenport said nothing, and showed no sign of surprise. Gordon was +disappointed. + +"Well, what do you think of it?" he said at last. + +"That you are a sillier ass than I thought you were," said Davenport. + +And as Gordon lay thinking over everything in the dark, he came to the +conclusion that Davenport was not so very far wrong after all. + + * * * * * + +Cold and nervous, Gordon waited for Rudd in the dark boot-hole under the +Chief's study on Pack Monday night just before twelve. In stockinged +feet he had crept downstairs, opened the creaking door without making +any appreciable noise, and then waited in the boot-room, which was +filled with the odour of blacking and damp decay. There was a small +window at the end of it, through which it was just possible to squeeze +out on to the Chief's front lawn. After that all was easy; anyone could +clamber over the wall by the V. A green. + +There was the sound of feet on the stairs. It seemed to Gordon as if +they were bound to wake the whole house. Rudd's figure was framed black +in the doorway. + +Silently they wormed their way through the window. The damp soil of a +flower bed was cold under their feet; with his hand Rudd smoothed out +the footprints. + +They stole down the silent cloisters, echoing shadows leered at them. +The wall of the V. A green rose dark and sinister. At last breathless +among the tombstones by the Abbey they slipped on their boots, turned up +coat collars and drew their caps over their eyes. + +A minute later the glaring lights of the booths in Cheap Street engulfed +them. They were jostled in the crowd. It was, after all, only Hampstead +Heath on a small scale. + +"Walk up, walk up! All the fun of the fair! Buy a teazer! Buy a teazer! +Buy a teazer! Tickle the girls! Walk up! Try your luck at the darts, +sir; now then, sir, come on!" + +The confused roar was as music to Gordon's soul. He had the Cockney love +of a fair. The children of London are still true to the coster legends +of the Old Kent Road. + +Gordon and Rudd did not stop long in Cheap Street. The real business was +in the fair fields by Rogers's house. This was only the outskirts. + +The next hour passed in a dream. Lights flared, rifles snapped at +fugitive ping-pong balls leaping on cascades of water, swing-boats rose +heavenwards, merry-go-rounds banged out rag-time choruses. Gordon let +himself go. He and Rudd tried everything. After wasting half-a-crown on +the cocoanuts, Rudd captured first go at the darts a wonderful vase +decorated with the gilt legend, "A Present from Fernhurst," and Gordon +at the rifle range won a beautiful china shepherdess which held for days +the admiration of the School House, until pining perhaps for its lover, +which by no outlay of darts could Gordon secure, it became dislodged +from the bracket and fell in pieces on the floor, to be swept away by +Arthur, the school _custos_, into the perpetual darkness of the dustbin. + +Weary at last, the pair sought the shelter of a small cafe, where they +luxuriously sipped lemonade. Faces arose out of the night, passed by and +faded out again. The sky was red with pleasure, the noise and shrieks +grew louder and more insistent. There was a dance going on. + +"I say, Rudd, do you dance?" + +"No, not much." + +"Well, look here, I can, a bit; at any rate I am going to have a bit of +fun over there. Let us go on our own for a bit. Meet me here at a +quarter to four." + +"Right," said Rudd, and continued sipping the lurid poison that called +itself American cream soda, and was in reality merely a cheap illness. + +Gordon walked in the direction of the dancing. The grass had been cut +quite short in a circle, and to the time of a broken band the town +dandies were whirling round, flushed with excitement and the close +proximity of a female form. "The Maenads and the Bassarids," murmured +Gordon to himself, and cursed his luck for not knowing any of the girls. +Disconsolately he wandered across to the Bijou Theatre, a tumble-down +hut where a huge crowd was jostling and shouting. + +He ran into something and half apologised. + +"Oh, don't mind me," a high-pitched voice shrieked excitedly. + +He turned round and saw the flushed face of a girl of about nineteen +looking up at him. She was alone. + +"I say," Gordon muttered nervously, "you look a bit lonely, come and +have some ginger beer." + +"Orl right. I don't mind. Give us your arm!" + +They rolled off to a neighbouring stall, where Gordon stood his Juliet +countless lemonades and chocolates. He felt very brave and grown-up, and +thought contemptuously of Davenport in bed dreaming some fatuous dream, +while he was engulfed in noise and colour. This was life. From the stall +the two wandered to the swing-boats, and towering high above the tawdry +glitter of the revel saw through the red mist the Abbey, austere and +still, the School House dormitories stretching silent with suspended +life, the class-rooms peopled with ghosts. + +A plank jarred under the boat. + +"Garn, surely it ain't time to stop yet," wailed Emmie. + +He had gathered enough courage to ask her her name. + +"Have another?" pleaded Gordon. + +"No; let us try the lively thing over there. These boats do make me feel +so funny-like." + +The merry-go-round was just stopping. There was a rush for the horses. +Gordon leapt on one, and leaning down caught Emmie up and sat her in +front of him; she lay back in his arms in a languor of satisfied +excitement. Her hair blew across his face, stifling him; on every side +couples were hugging and squeezing. The sensuous whirl of the machine +was acting as a narcotic, numbing thought. He caught her flushed, tired +face in his hands and kissed her wildly, beside himself with the +excitement of the moment. + +"You don't mind, do you?" he murmured in a hoarse whisper. + +"Don't be so silly; I have been waiting for that. Now we can get +comfy-like." + +Her arms were round his neck, her flushed face was hot on his, her hair +hung over his shoulders. The strains of _You Made Me Love You_ came +inarticulate with passion out of the shrieking organ. Her elbow nudged +him. Her lips were as fire beneath his. The machine slowed down and +stopped. Gordon paid for five extra rounds. Dazed with new and hitherto +unrealised sensations, Gordon forgot everything but the strange warm +thing nestling in his arms; and he abandoned himself to the passion of +the moment. + +At last their time was up. Closely, her hair on his shoulder, they moved +to the dancing circle, and plunged into the throng of the shouting, +jostling dancers. Of the next two hours Gordon could remember nothing. +He had vague recollections of streaming hair, of warm hands, and of +fierce, wild kisses. Lights flickered, shot skywards, and went out. +Forms loomed before him, a strange weariness came over him, he +remembered flinging himself beside her in the grass and burying his face +in her hair. She seemed to speak as from a very long way off. Once more +the dance caught them. Then _Auld Lang Syne_ struck up. Hands were +clasped, a circle swayed riotously. There were promises to meet next +night, promises that neither meant to keep. Rudd was waiting impatiently +at the cafe. Once more the wall by the Abbey rose spectral, once more +the cloisters echoed vaguely. The boot-hole window creaked. + +As the dawn broke tempestuously in the sky Gordon fell across his bed, +his brain tired with a thousand memories, all fugitive, all vague, all +exquisitely unsubstantial. + + * * * * * + +With heavy, tired eyes Gordon ran down to breakfast a second before +time. He felt utterly weary, exhausted, incapable of effort. People came +up and asked him in whispers if everything had turned out well. He +answered absentmindedly, incoherently. + +"I don't believe you went there at all," a voice jeered. + +Gordon did not reply. He merely put his hand in his pocket and pulled +out the china shepherdess that he was about to place on the rickety +study bracket. + +Doubt was silenced. + +The long hours of morning school passed by on leaden feet; he seemed +unable to answer any question right; even the Chief was annoyed. + +Rain fell in torrents. The Colts game was scratched. + +On a pile of cushions laid on the floor Gordon slept away the whole +afternoon. From four to six he had to write a Greek Prose in his study. +The tea bell scattered his dreams. He rose languidly, with the +unpleasant sensation of work unfinished. + +The row of faces at tea seemed to frighten him. He felt as if he had +awakened out of a nightmare, that still held on to him with cold, clammy +hands, and was trying to draw him back once more into its web. Visions +rose before him of shrieking showmen's booths, blinking with tawdry +yellow eyes. Emmie's hoarse laugh grated on his ears; he was overwrought +and wanted to shout, to shriek, to give some vent to his feelings. But +he seemed chained to the long bench, and his tongue was tied so that he +could only mouth out silly platitudes about the weather and the +Fifteen's chances. + +On his way back to the studies he felt an arm laid in his. He shivered +and turned round, half expecting to see Emmie's flushed, exciting face +peering up at him. He almost sighed with relief when he found it was +Tester. + +"Look here, just come for a stroll round the courts. The rain's stopped. +I want to talk to you." + +They wandered out under the lindens. + +"I suppose you did go out last night, didn't you?" + +"Yes." + +"What on earth did you do it for?" + +"I am sick of the whole affair," Gordon said petulantly. "Rudd called +the lot of us funks, so----" + +"I know that tale quite well," Tester broke in. "I want to know why you +went out. At least I don't mean that. I mean to tell you why you went +out, because I don't think you know yourself. You have made an awful +fool of yourself. You have run the risk of getting sacked, merely +because you wanted to be talked about." + +"I didn't. I went because I was jolly well not going to have Rudd +calling me a funk." + +"Comes to the same thing in the end, doesn't it? You did not want to +play second fiddle; you didn't want Rudd to appear to have scored. You +wanted to be the central figure. Much the same, isn't it? The love of +notoriety." + +Gordon murmured something inaudible. + +"And it is all so damned silly. You are running the risk of getting the +sack, and for nothing at all. I can understand quite well anyone being +drawn into anything dangerous by a strong emotion or feeling. It is +natural. Masters say we should curb our natures. I don't know if they +are right. That's neither here nor there. There was nothing natural in +what you did. It was merely rotten imbecility--your self-consciousness, +your fear of not seeming to have done the right thing. You can't go on +like this. I own that this term you have been more or less sane. The +last two terms I have often wondered what was going to happen to you. +You had no balance; you kept on doing silly little things so as to hold +the attention of a more stupid audience. This term you have stopped that +sort of rot. But what is the use of it going to be, if you go and do +things like this on the impulse of the moment, merely because you don't +want to look silly? You can't think how much more silly you look by +playing the ruddy ass during the small hours inside a stinking booth! +You can't afford to do that sort of thing. Your ambition is to be +captain of the House, and not a bad ambition either. But do you realise +that if you are going to be a real power in the House, if you are going +to fight the masters, as you say you will, you can't afford to fling +away points? You must appear impregnable. Don't be an ass. A master +holds all the high cards. If you play into his hand, he has you done to +the world. Suppose you were caught going out at night your last year, +what would happen? You might get the sack at once; and all your +rebellion would be wasted. And, mark you, a rebellion is wanted. There +is real need of a man who has the strength of his opinions and sticks +out. What's the use of it if you go and get sacked? Of course, they +might keep you on, and ask you to go at the end of the term to save your +face. What would your position be then? You would be bound hand and +foot, powerless to do anything. Life would slip past you. You have got +to be above suspicion. Think, however much you may want to do a thing +now, however much praise you may think an action of yours would get, +stop and consider how it will appear two years hence. A really serious +row might knock you out for the rest of your time here: a bad name +sticks. Remember that. Think of the day when you are going to be a real +power, and stand up for the independence of the individual to think as +he likes, not as Buller likes; for the independence of the House to run +itself. 'The Bull' runs our house to-day. You hear men say, 'We can't do +that, Buller would be sick!' You have to free them of Buller's tyranny, +if you are going to be a man; and if you do, you can't fight in rusty +armour. These masters may be fools, but they have the cards." + +Gordon listened to Tester's flow of words. He was furious. But when at +last lights were put out and he lay back in bed and watched the stars +steadfast in love and splendour, and the moon immutable, enigmatic, +smiling quietly, he appreciated the truth of Tester's argument. A great +battle was before him; he would have to go into it strong and prepared +at every point. There must be no chink in his coat of mail. + +Some day his hour would come; till then he had to wait in patience, and +during the long vigil he would keep his shield clean of rust. He would +have to think, to weigh his decisions, to keep before his eyes the goal +towards which his ambition was set. + + + + +CHAPTER III: BROADENING OUTLOOK + + +Like a huge reel of thread the long winter term unrolled itself. +November drifted by with its gusty winds that shrieked in the empty +cloisters. December came with its dark mornings and steadily falling +rains. The First Fifteen matches were over. Dulbridge and Tonford had +both been beaten handsomely; Mansell had got his Firsts. The Colts drew +at Limborne, and finished their season with an overwhelming victory over +Weybridge. House games began again, and the Thirds and Two Cock became +the only possible topics of conversation. During the first half of the +term Hazelton, as was inevitable, had had to spend nearly all his time +in First Fifteen puntabouts and upper ground games. The House had seen +little of him. But now, with all the big matches over, and only the old +Fernhurstians' match to come on the last Saturday of the term, he had +time to devote all his energies to the training of house sides. If he +had not talked so much he would have been one of the strong, silent +Englishmen. For to all outward appearances he was taciturn, +unimaginative, self-willed. But he had a very nasty tongue, and never +hesitated to use it at the expense of his enemies. As a house captain he +was a distinct success. He knew the game well, and was able to inspire a +keenness that was not jingoistic. He also had the rare virtue of knowing +where to stop. He never made sides play on till they were speechless +with fatigue, as some over-enthusiastic house captains had been known to +do. He was very popular with his sides. + +Every evening before hall there congregated in Gordon's study all the +old faces of his first year, with one or two new ones. Nowhere so easily +as at a Public School does one find oneself drifting apart from an old +acquaintance; not for any real reason, not for any quarrel, but merely +because circumstances seem to will it so. But when the thought of House +matches returned, the old lot came back together to fight their battles +over again, and to dream of the silver cups glittering below the statue +of Edward VI. They were all there: Hunter, who had seemed to pass almost +out of Gordon's life since he had begun to play in the Fifteen; +Mansell, who now spent much of his time with Hazelton; Betteridge, who +was more often than not with Harding. No. 1 Study was very convenient. +Roll was held just outside, and when the prefect's voice was heard +calling the first name the door would be flung open, and still reclining +in arm-chairs they shouted out the immemorial "sum." About five minutes +before the hour of roll-call juniors from the day-room and the farther +studies would begin to collect round the hot pipes in the passage, +fearful of being late. Then in No. 1 Lovelace would wind up the +gramophone, and the strains of _When the Midnight Choo-choo leaves for +Alabama_ broke out with deafening violence. The concert lasted till the +first strokes of the hour had boomed out. Roll over, they all separated +to their various studies. Lovelace took out his _Sportsman_ and began to +total up his winnings; Gordon either lay full length in the hammock, a +new and much envied acquisition which was slung across from door to +window, and read for the hundredth time the haunting melodies of +_Rococo_, or else, as was more usual, wandered round the studies with +the magnificent air of indifference that marked all members of the +Sixth. + +Then came prayers; after which Gordon and Davenport made for the +seclusion of their double dormitory. Lights were out at nine-fifteen for +the big upper dormitories, and till then they used to wander down the +passage for the ostensible reason of getting hot water, but in reality +to watch, with the superior air of Olympians, the life of lesser breeds. +They imagined themselves great bloods during these few minutes after +prayers. Sometimes when the House tutor was supposed to be out they +would join in a game of football in the passage; but as they were caught +once and each got a Georgic, this pastime lost its charm. Usually they +lolled in the doorway with a perfect superiority, and talked of the old +"rags" and discomfitures of two years back, for the benefit of admiring +listeners. + +"Do you remember when Mansell slept in that bed?" Gordon would say. + +"No; I was not here that term," Davenport would reply; "but I sha'n't +forget when the Chief found Betteridge's bed pitched on the floor, with +Betteridge underneath and Lovelace sitting on top." + +Was it possible, thought some small fry, that the great Mansell, who +played for the Fifteen, had once actually slept in the same bed as he +occupied now? Had Betteridge, who had only that night given half the +day-room a hundred lines, once had his bed shipped on that very floor! +It all seemed like a gigantic fairy story. And to think that Caruthers +had seen these things! + +But they were not long, these moments of the assumption of the godhead. +Darkness soon fell on the long passage, and only whispered talking +sounded faint and far away. Gordon and Davenport then went back to their +room, and on evenings after a hard game they had a small supper. They +had managed to discover a loose board, and the floor space caused by its +removal served as a cupboard, a cupboard so damp and unhealthy that the +most lenient sanitary inspector must infallibly have condemned it. Here, +just before afternoon school, they secreted ginger beer bottles, a loaf +of bread, butter, some tomatoes and a chunk of Gorgonzola cheese. In the +morning they carried away the bottles in their pockets. It would have +been much easier and much more comfortable to have had a meal in their +study, but then it would have lacked the savour of romance. The rule +forbidding the importation of food into the dormitories was very strict. +At the end of the term, when both were going to leave that particular +room, they nailed down the board, so that no other marauder should +imitate them. They wished to be unique. But before they did so, they put +in the mouldy cupboard a lemonade bottle and one of the blue Fernhurst +roll-books for the Michaelmas Term, 1913. They underlined their names in +it, and left it as a memento of a few happy evenings. + +"I wonder," said Caruthers, "if years hence someone will pull up that +board and find the book, and seeing our names will wonder who we were." + +"Perhaps," said Davenport. "And, you know, they may try and find out +something about us in back numbers of _The Fernhurstian_, or in the +photographs of house sides. Do you think they will be able to find out +anything about us?" + +"I hope so; but how little we know even of the bloods of 1905, and as +likely as not we sha'n't ever be bloods. It will be rather funny if some +day of all the things we have done nothing remains but the blue +roll-book." + +"Funny?" said Davenport. "Rather pathetic, I should say." + +At fifteen one is apt to be sentimental. + +Perhaps some rude fingers have already torn up that board; perhaps even +now some new generation of Fernhurstians is using it as a receptacle for +tobacco, or cheese, or any other commodity contraband to the +dormitories. But perhaps underneath a board in No. 1 double dormitory +there still repose that identical lemonade bottle and the roll-book with +its blue cover, now sadly faded and its leaves turned up with age, to +serve as Gordon's epitaph, when all his other deeds have perished in +oblivion. + + * * * * * + +There is perhaps nothing that has made so many friendships as a big row, +or the prospect of one. We always feel in sympathy with people whose +aims are identical with our own, and the principals in some big row or +escapade cannot help being bound close together by common ties. A mutual +danger has brought together many ill-assorted pairs, and among others it +showed Gordon and Rudd that they had something in common with one +another. Gordon had always looked upon Rudd as a guileless ass who was +no good at games, did nothing for the House, and was only useful as the +universal provider of cribs. But after the Pack Monday Fair incident +Gordon saw that there was in Rudd a something which, if not exactly to +be admired, came very near it. It was a daring thing to challenge anyone +who was willing to come to the fair with him, and he had not shown the +slightest wish to back out of his agreement. Gordon decided to make his +better acquaintance, and in the process was brought face to face with +another fresh character, a type that was to set before him different +aims and standards. For Gordon was sharp enough to see more or less +below the surface. Rudd was a new type to him. It was clear that he had +some merits, especially pluck; and yet he was no good at games, and, +what was more extraordinary, did not seem in the least worried about his +failures. Gordon had always pitied those who could not scrape into the +Thirds. + +"Poor devils!" he used to say in the arrogance of his own +self-satisfaction. "I expect they tried just as much as we did. And it +must be pretty awful for them to realise that they are no real use at +games at all." + +He had never thought it possible that anyone with the slightest claims +to respectability could be quite indifferent to athletic success. But +Rudd was, after all, a presentable fellow, and yet he did not mind in +the least. + +It was all very strange. + +Only by trying to see the points of view of others do we get any real +idea of the trend of human thought. It is quite useless to start life +with fixed standards, and try to bring everyone to realise their +virtues. We must have some standard, it is true, or we should be as +rudderless boats; but it is of paramount importance that our standards +should be sufficiently elastic to include new movements; and not until +we have tried and weighed in the balance, and considered and sifted the +philosophies of others, should we attempt to form a philosophy for +ourselves. + +By nature Gordon was arrogant and self-satisfied; but by meeting types +different from himself and in their company gaining glimpses of goals +other than his own, his character was undoubtedly broadened, his horizon +extended, and he managed to get things into better proportion. + +For several people just at this time were influencing Gordon. But none +more so than Ferrers. Ever since the Stoics debate Gordon had become a +profound admirer of the new master, who had banged into the cloistered +Fernhurst life, bubbling over with the ideas of the rising generation, +intolerant of prejudice and tradition, clamorous for reform. It was a +great sight to see him walking about the courts. He was nearly always +dressed the same, in his blue woollen waistcoat, soft collar and serge +suit. He never walked anywhere without at least two books under his arm. +He was recognisable at once. If a stranger had glanced round the courts +in break, and had been asked afterwards if any of the masters had +attracted his attention, he might perhaps have mentioned "the Bull's" +powerful roll; with a smile he might have remarked on the prelatical +Rogers, stalking like Buckingham "half in heaven." There were six or +seven he _might_ have noticed, but there was only one person whom he +must have seen, whom he could not possibly have failed to pick out +immediately, and that was Ferrers. Personality was written on every +feature of his face, every movement was typical of youthful vigour and +action. His half-contemptuous swing suggested a complete scorn of +everything known before 1912. He was the great god of Gordon's soul, +greater even than Lovelace major had been, far greater than Meredith. + +As he sat listening to Finnemore discussing artistic questions in form, +he felt wildly impatient to hear Ferrer's opinion. Nothing seemed +settled definitely until Ferrers had spoken, and only the Army and +Matriculation classes had the tremendous advantages of doing English +with him. Most of Ferrer's time was wasted in attempts to drive home +mathematical theories into the dense brain of a lower school set. + +As to his influence in the school there could be no two opinions. The +bloods, of course, were too completely settled in their grooves of +Philistinism and self-worship to feel the force of innovation. But even +on a mild character like Foster's his effect was startling. Ferrer's +great theory was: "Let boys take their own time. The adage that it does +a boy good to do what he hates may be all right for the classics, but it +is no good to try that game with literature. Find out what a boy likes. +Encourage him, show you are in sympathy with his taste, and once in his +confidence gradually lead him step by step to the real stuff. He will +follow you, if you only make out you like what he likes. A boy hates the +superior attitude of 'Oh, quite good in its way, of course.' A master +must get to the boy's level; it is fatuous to try and drag the boy to +his at once." And there is abundant proof to show that this plan was a +success. When Ferrers first came, Foster, for example, read nothing but +Kipling and Guy Boothby. During his last term Gordon found him absorbed +in _Vanity Fair_ and _The Duchess of Malfi_. It would be difficult to +over-estimate the good Ferrers did at Fernhurst. From afar Gordon +worshipped him. He learnt from Foster what Ferrers had read to his form +and what he recommended them to read, and as soon as he could he +borrowed or bought the book. The school book-shop about this time began +to find in Gordon its most generous patron. At times Gordon would tell +Foster to ask Ferrers questions that interested him. And the answers, +usually a little vague and elastic, spurred Gordon on to fresh fields. +His taste was beginning to grow, and football "shop" was no longer his +only topic of conversation. + + + + +CHAPTER IV: THIRDS + + +There was only one thing that at all worried Gordon just now, and that +was the behaviour of the Hazlitt brethren. Mention has already been made +of this couple. During their first few terms they gave every promise of +developing into the very worst types that banality and athletic success +can produce, and these expectations had been abundantly fulfilled. The +elder brother had his points, but they were few, the chief one being +that he was fairly good at games, which, after all, is but a negative +quality. But the younger, who was as useless as he was generally +officious, was entirely devoid of any redeeming feature. His ways were +the ways of a slum child playing in the gutter, and his sense of humour +was limited to shouting rude remarks after other people, knocking off +hats, and then running away. His language was foul enough to disgust +even a Public School's taste. Gordon loathed him. One evening he and +Lovelace discussed the child. + +"Look here," said Gordon, "it's no good, this. That unutterable little +tick Hazlitt knocked off my hat as I was looking at the notice-board +to-day, and I am not going to stand it. By the time I had turned round +he was half-way across the courts." + +"The little swine! He is not fit to be in a decent school. If he can't +get rid of the habits he learnt with street cads in the holidays of his +own accord, he'll have to be kicked out of them. We will wait for him +one day, and if we see him knock a School House straw off, my God, we +will boot him to blazes!" + +"Right you are. It won't be bullying. It will be treating a dirty beast +in the only way he can understand." + +About three days later, from their study window, they saw Hazlitt minor +proceeding to the notice-board after lunch. They left their study and +walked into the cloisters. + +Hazlitt minor read the notices, discovered that, as he was posted on no +game, he must of necessity take himself to the "pick-up," and then +looked round. Davenham was conscientiously perusing a notice, although +there was no likelihood of his own name appearing on any. (It is almost +true to say that nobody looked at the board except the people about whom +there are no notices to read.) There was an announcement four days old +to the effect that C.J. Mansell had been presented with his First +Fifteen colours. Davenham seemed to find it vastly interesting. Hazlitt +stole up behind, and knocked his hat flying across the cloister. In a +second Gordon and Lovelace were on him. They did not care in the very +least what happened to Davenham. He played no part in their life. But a +School House man had been "cheeked" by a filthy little outhouse swab. +These aliens had to be taught their place. + +"What do you mean by that, you awful tick?" shouted Lovelace. "Davenham, +go and fetch a hockey stick from Tester's study." + +Hazlitt let out with his feet and caught Gordon on the ankle, but the +horrible hack he got in return quieted him. + +Davenham appeared with a hockey stick. + +Gordon managed to get Hazlitt's head between his knees, and Lovelace +began to give that worthy a beating he was never likely to forget. In a +few minutes he was blubbering for mercy. Fletcher passed by. + +"Here you are, Archie," yelled Gordon; "come and have a shot at this +swine Hazlitt; we are teaching him that he can't go about knocking off +School House hats with impunity." + +"Right you are, my lads." + +By the time Archie had finished, Hazlitt had almost collapsed. Gordon +let him go, and with a hefty boot sent him flying into the cloisters. + +"I don't think we shall have any more of him for a bit," said Lovelace, +with satisfaction. + +"No; these outhouse lads want showing their place from time to time. The +School House, after all, is _the_ place. We are like Rome, the mother +city; the other outhouses are merely provinces of ours. Jolly good of us +to let them use our buildings at all. Come and change; we have done a +good deed, my friends." + +But the matter did not end there. That evening in Buller's dormitories +Hazlitt told a story of how Caruthers had been bullying him for no +reason, and hacking him till he could hardly sit down. He left out +Lovelace's name, because Lovelace was popular with the Buller's crowd. +News of this reached Felston, the second prefect. He fumed with rage, +and sought Gregory, the Buller's house captain. + +"Have you heard the latest? That swine Caruthers has been bullying +Hazlitt. He drove him all round the cloisters, hitting him with a hockey +stick." + +"Good God, the swine! Did he really! My word, I'll lay him out in the +Three Cock. You wait, that's all. When he plays in the Three Cock, I'll +lay him out for dead in the first ten minutes." + +In due course this story found its way to the Buller's day-room, where +was great rejoicing. So Caruthers was going to be laid out, was he? How +damned funny! Hazlitt's heart leapt within him. His evil little mind +pictured Gordon being carried off the field, absolutely smashed up. He +gloated. + +Gordon laughed when he heard of it. + +"Oh, well, at any rate I shall have my shot at them first in the Thirds +and Two Cock." + +He was secretly rather pleased to see that even his enemies had not the +slightest doubt about his getting a place in the Three Cock. A House cap +was just then his great ambition. But for all that he suffered +considerable annoyance. Whenever he went up to the tuck-shop a voice +from the Buller's doorway croaked: "Wait for the Three Cock!" + +At first it was rather amusing. But soon it got distinctly tiresome. +Deep in his heart he cursed the tick Hazlitt and the whole Buller crowd. +A joke could be carried to an extreme. And it slowly dawned on him that, +if he did play in the Three Cock, he was in for a remarkably thin time. + +Almost the last words he heard as the eight-forty swept out of Fernhurst +station on the last morning, with its waving hands and shoutings, was a +shriek from the Buller's day-room: "Wait for the Three Cock!" Gordon +laughed for a second, and then looked bored. The jest had ceased to have +a shred of humour left upon it. It was naked and ought to be ashamed. + +The Easter term opened in the conventional way with rain, slush and +influenza. The fields were flooded, the country a lake; the bare +branches dripped incessantly. But for all that the first round of the +Thirds began on the first Saturday. + +Buller's drew Rogers's. There was no doubt as to the result. It would be +a walk-over for Buller's, though Burgoyne might get over the line once +or twice. + +There was a crowd in front of the pavilion. + +"Well, do something, at any rate," said Gordon. "Don't let Buller's get +above themselves. You keep them in order." + +"Oh yes, we'll sit on them!" laughed Burgoyne. "By the way, I think it +would be rather a good scheme to lay out Hazlitt minor, don't you?" + +Never did any forward in any house match at Fernhurst take the field +without the sworn intention of laying out some hated opponent. +Nevertheless during the whole time Gordon was at school only one boy was +hurt so badly that he had to leave the field. And that was an accident. +He broke his collar-bone, falling over by the goal-posts. It had become +almost a custom to state whom you were going to lay out before the +match. The idea sounds brutal, but it never led to anything. Gordon knew +this as well as anyone. + +"Good man! And look here, if you do, I'll give you a bob." + +"A bargain?" + +"Of course." + +"Right, my lad. We will have a good supper to-night in my study." + +The match followed the ordinary course. Frenzied juniors rushed up and +down the touch-line inarticulate with excitement; the bloods, strolling +arm in arm, patronised the game mildly. Buller's won very easily. +Hazlitt played quite decently and scored once. Burgoyne went +supperless. + +The second and third rounds were played; everywhere Buller's triumphed. +No house was beaten by less than forty points. Not a try was scored +against them. Christy's, who had lost by forty-four points to nil, had, +as the least unsuccessful house, the doubtful honour of joining forces +with Buller's to play the School House in the final. + +The betting was fairly even. Buller's thought they would win; the House, +as usual, was certain of victory. The school expected a level game, and +on the whole wanted to see a School House win. Buller's had had too much +success of late years; and envy was inevitably at work. + +The selection of the combined outhouse side caused a lot of +consideration. There was once an idea of playing Hazlitt minor, but much +to the annoyance of the House this plan was, from the outhouse point of +view, wisely dropped. And now Jack Whitaker--he was always known as +Jack--enters the story. + +Jack was a very decent sort of kid, much (in the School House +estimation) above the standard of Buller's day-room. He was a little +rowdy and ostentatious, but had the justification of being really good +at something. He was a promising half-back, and his cricket was so good +that there was talk of his getting a trial for the School Eleven. Gordon +and he got on rather well. But he was very young; under fifteen, in +fact, and very impetuous. + +About a week before the Thirds "the Bull" was discussing the match in +the dormitories. Jack was very full of words. + +"I say, sir, isn't it awfully lucky for Hazlitt that he is not playing?" + +"The Bull" was surprised. Only that evening he had been talking with +Hazlitt, and telling him how sorry he was that there was no place for +him in the side. + +"Why, Jack? I don't know what you mean." + +"Oh, well, you see, sir, all the School House fellows had sworn to lay +him out!" + +"You must not talk like that, Jack. It is not sporting. And it stirs up +ill feeling in the school. You can't honestly believe that any gentleman +would play a game in that spirit. You have no proof of what you say +except mere rumour, I suppose. You mustn't talk like that." + +"The Bull" was not at all pleased, and walked away to turn out the +light. Whitaker saw he had gone too far and had said more than he meant +to. But he couldn't stand the idea that "the Bull" should think he had +been repeating merely idle chatter. + +"But, sir, I know for certain that in the Christy's match the School +House men were offering money to Christy's to lay Hazlitt out." + +Buller stopped with his hand on the gas-tap. + +"That is a very serious accusation, Jack. Are you telling me that any +Fernhurst boys so lack sportsmanlike feeling as to bribe boys in other +houses to lay out their rivals, so that it will be easier for them to +win." + +"Oh, sir, I don't think that they meant that." + +"Well, you said it, at any rate." + +The gas went out suddenly. "The Bull" strode out without saying +good-night. In his study he turned over in his mind the extraordinary +story he had heard. If what Jack had told him was the truth, Fernhurst +football, which was to him, and to many others, the finest thing in the +world, had become little better than league professionalism. Bribes were +being offered for men to be laid out. He had never heard of such a +thing. There was no one to remind him that the offering of bribes means +little to a schoolboy, and the mere talk of "laying people out" still +less. It is all a question of custom, of the sense in which phrases are +used by the particular speakers who use them. + +There are certain words which to-day are vulgar and disgusting, but +which in the days of Shakespeare would have been used in any company +without a blush. And this is so merely because time has given the words +a different significance. Indeed, from the point of view of the average +person, to leave schoolmasters out of the question, the idea of offering +bribes to lay out athletes is revolting. And so it is. It is +unsportsmanlike, unworthy of English traditions. But when Gordon offered +Burgoyne a shilling to lay out Hazlitt, although he said it was a +bargain, he meant nothing at all by his offer. He knew that Burgoyne, +once he got on the field, could think of nothing but the game, and would +forget all about Hazlitt and himself. Everyone offered bribes, but no +one had been known to receive a penny of them. Still, Buller could not +be expected to know this. He saw in the affair a menace to the future of +Fernhurst sport. Jack's story might be only idle chatter, or it might +have some foundation. At any rate he had got to go to the bottom, and +sift out the truth for the good of Fernhurst. + +After evening chapel on the Sunday before the match the Chief sent for +Gordon; when Gordon arrived he found Harding, the head of the House, +there too. The Chief looked worried. There was a row in prospect. Gordon +racked his brain to think of anything that could possibly have been +found out about him. Of course there were many old troubles that might +have been raked up. He had always realised that the hand of the past +would still be near the shoulder of the present. Yet, what had he been +doing recently? + +"Isn't Hazelton coming, Harding?" The Chief was speaking. + +"Yes, sir; but I believe he is collecting chapel cards." + +Hazelton too. Complications, forsooth. There was an awkward pause. Then +Hazelton came in, quite at his ease. + +"Sir, the chapel cards; and I believe you wanted to see me, sir?" + +"Ah, yes, Hazelton; put the cards on my desk. Now, Caruthers, I want to +ask you a question before the head and captain of the House that I hope +you will answer truthfully. Did you offer a boy in Mr Christy's house +money to 'lay out,' I believe that was the phrase, a boy in Mr Buller's +house in the recent house match." + +Gordon thought for a moment. Had he? It was quite likely he had; but he +could not remember. Then the scene came back. The crowd in front of the +pavilion. Burgoyne: Hazlitt in the offing. + +"Yes, sir," he replied, after the instant's hesitation. + +"You seem rather doubtful about it." + +"Well, sir, I was trying to remember whether I had or not." + +The Chief was nettled by such apparent callousness. + +"You talk as if you were in the habit of offering such rewards. Are +you?" + +"Well, sir, it is the sort of thing any fellow might do." + +"That is neither here nor there. I doubt the truth of your statement +very much. But even if the school had become so generally demoralised as +you suggest, that would not be any excuse for you. As a matter of fact, +how much did you offer the boy?" + +"A shilling, sir." + +"Was that a genuine offer, now? If he had done what you wanted him to, +would you have paid him?" + +Gordon was now well out of his depth. Explanation seemed impossible. Had +the offer been genuine? He supposed it had. If the tick had been laid +out, Gordon would have been so delighted that he would have stood the +whole of Christy's drinks all round. + +"Yes, sir," he said quite cheerfully. + +A smile that rose to Hazelton's lips was instantly suppressed. + +"Ah! rather like hiring assassins in the cheap novelettes. What was your +idea? Did you think Hazlitt would have been a help to the School side?" + +"No, sir. I hardly think he would have been of much assistance to them." + +The idea of Hazlitt being of any use to anyone was very amusing. Gordon +always saw the funny side of everything. As a ghost, he would probably +have found something cynically amusing in his own funeral. + +"Then you did it merely out of spite, I suppose. Do you consider that +the football field is a suitable opportunity for the paying-off of old +scores?" + +Now, suppose Gordon had poured out the story of how Felston had sworn to +lay him out in the Three Cock, and how Hazlitt and others had flung the +words "Three Cock" into his face for half a term, it would have been +certainly an extenuation. But he realised that Hazelton was present. It +would not be the proper thing, it would indeed be unpardonable cheek, +for him to talk in the presence of the House captain as though his +chances of playing in the Three Cock were to be taken for granted. It +would be madness to imperil his chances on the football field, merely +because he wanted an excuse for a silly little row. + +And so he did not answer. + +"Well, Caruthers, I sha'n't want you any more. Thank you for being so +frank in the matter. As far as I can see, it is the only extenuating +circumstance. Harding, Hazelton, one minute." + +Gordon returned to the studies amused rather than disconcerted. He quite +saw that the Chief, with his high ideals, would refuse to allow two +blacks to make a white, even if that black were of the grey-black shade +of which colour boys were allowed to get their school suits made, and +which produced anything from light grey to dark brown. He understood and +respected the Chief's point of view entirely. But with "the Bull" he was +furious. No one but "the Bull" could have reported him; and, "the Bull" +after all, was an old Fernhurstian. He knew the school customs, and +unless his memory was decaying, must have remembered the wild way in +which boys boast. He must have known it; but "for the sake of +Fernhurst," Buller would say, "this leprosy has to be rooted out." +Gordon began to wonder whether it was really a love of Fernhurst that +was his standard for all actions, or simply a supreme egotism, which +embraced alternately his own interest, his house's interest, and +Fernhurst's interest, but never, under any circumstances, never the +School House interest! + +Hazelton thought much the same. At the Chief's request he made a +characteristic speech to the House after prayers. + +"Someone who imagines himself a sportsman, and who refuses to disclose +his name, but whose identity we can only guess at, has been making some +silly remarks about certain play and behaviour in the House. Of course +that is all rot. But people have strange ideas, especially those in +authority, and we have to be very careful. So for heaven's sake don't go +shouting out that you are going to lay everyone out. It only means a +row, and, after all, you can do it just as well without talking about +it." + +There was a roar of laughter; the old system survived. + +Next morning in break Gordon passed Buller on his way to the tuck-shop. +"The Bull" cut him dead. + +The day after, the Chief having made up his mind on the matter, told +Gordon that his Sixth Form privileges had been taken away. + +Before a large crowd, in full view of Chief's study window, Gordon that +afternoon burnt his straw hat with the Sixth form ribbon on it, and +stood over the smouldering ashes proclaiming in tragic tones: "The glory +has departed from Israel." His old passion for a theatrical piece of +rodomontade was not yet subdued. + + * * * * * + +For a short time Gordon was rather worried about "l'affaire Hazlitt," as +Tester called it. But he soon forgot it entirely in the excitement of +the approaching match. Everyone talked about it; there was no other +topic of conversation. The night before the match Lovelace could not sit +still for a minute. He strode up and down the study murmuring to +himself: "We can't lose; we can't; we can't!" Someone looked in to ask +if he was going to prepare the Livy. + +"Livy?" he gasped. "Who could do any work the night before a house +match?" + +The someone retired discomforted. + +"You know it's absurd," Lovelace went on, "for a master to imagine +anyone could do work when the house matches are on. The other day +Claremont had me up and asked me why my work had been so bad lately. I +told him that the house matches were so exciting that I could not +concentrate my mind on anything else. He looked at me vacantly and said: +'Well, are they really? I don't know whom they excite; they don't excite +me.'" + +"Dear old poseur; he's keen enough on his own house," Gordon answered +drowsily from the depths of the hammock, in which he had almost fallen +asleep. He felt incapable of thought. For weeks he had looked forward to +the match, and now it was so close he felt strangely languorous, tired +in brain and body. + +Rain fell steadily all night, and though it cleared off about break, the +ground was already under water. It was a cold, gusty day. + +By lunch the whole House was unbalanced. There was much loud laughter, +then sudden silences; an atmosphere of restlessness lay over everyone. +Very slowly the minutes dragged by. Gordon sat silent in a far corner of +the pavilion. At last the whistle blew, the magenta and black jerseys +trailed out on to the field. A cheer rose from the line. + +The next hour passed in a whirl of white jerseys, gradually turned black +with mud, of magenta forms dashing on to the School forwards, of wild, +inarticulate black insects bawling on the touch-line. The pervading +impression was mud. Everything was mud; he was mud, the ball was mud. +Lovelace was indistinguishable. His own voice leading the scrum seemed +strangely unreal. There was a vague feeling of disquiet when, early in +the first half, he found himself standing under the posts, while the +Buller's half placed the ball for Whitaker to convert. Nothing tangible; +then the disquiet passed, the magenta jerseys swept forward, dirty white +forms came up and went down before them. Morgan rolled over the line. A +kick failed. Half-time came, Hazelton came on, and said a lot of things +to him, which he answered unconsciously. + +A whistle blew. Once more the magenta jerseys swept everything before +them. There seemed no white jerseys at all. Numberless times he watched +Lovelace taking the place kick. He thought he heard Mansell shrieking: +"Heave it into them! Well done! Now you've got them!" Once he had a +sensation of kicking the ball past the halves; he seemed clear, the +full-back rushed up and fell in front of him, the ball stopped for a +second, then rolled on. He heard someone coming up behind him; the line +grew dimly white under his feet; he fell on the ball; there was a roar +of cheering. The whistle went in short, sharp blasts. The game was over. + +And then he realised that the House had won, that his hopes were +satisfied, that the Buller crowd had been routed, that the cup would +shimmer on the mantelpiece. A wave of wild exultation came over him. The +House poured over the touch-line, yelling and shouting. It was all "a +wonder and a wild desire." + +Then came the glorious reaction, "the bright glory of after battle +wine." The tea in the tuck-shop. They were out of training. Then the +perfect laziness of lying full-length in his hammock, talking of the +splendid victory. Then came the House tea. It was much like the Roman +triumph. The whole House sat in their places ten minutes before six. +Tablecloths were removed; everyone took down heavy books, boots, sticks. +Then when the Abbey struck six, Lovelace led the side into hall, up to +the dais, to the Sixth Form table. Everyone shouted, roared, beat the +tables. Dust arose. It was very hard to breathe. The Chief came and made +a speech. There was more shouting, more shrieking, more beating of +tables. + +At last hall came with its gift of real rest. Gordon lay in the hammock, +Lovelace reposed with his feet on the table. Everyone came in to +congratulate them. Hazelton invited them in second hall to supper in the +games study; the gramophone played rag-time choruses. Gordon sang all of +them. Everyone was gloriously, unutterably happy. + +Meredith sent a wire: "Well done, House: now for the Two Cock." + +In the dormitory Hazelton was talking over the match. + +"By Jove, when that side is the Three Cock, we shall win by fifty +points. Lord, I do envy you, Caruthers! You will see the day, and be in +at the finish. I shall only shout from the touch-line." And he added: +"My God, I shall shout, too." + +There was nothing to mar the extreme joyousness of life. The world lay +at Gordon's feet. He had only to stoop to pick it up. + + + + +CHAPTER V: DUAL PERSONALITY + + +The Two Cock was always played a fortnight after the Thirds, and during +that fortnight the outhouses had to play off among themselves three +preliminary rounds. For them it was a remarkably strenuous time. The two +best outhouses sides had, in fact, to play four house matches in twelve +days. But it was possible for the School House to take things easily for +at least half a week. And these three days out of training meant a lot +to Gordon and others, who would have to play not only in the Two Cock, +but most probably in the Three Cock as well. It prevented staleness; +and staleness was the great danger that all outhouse sides had to face. + +The week after the Thirds was regarded as a fairly slack time +before the strenuous week that culminated in the Two Cock. There +would probably be only one game--on the Saturday; and that a short +quarter-of-an-hour-each-way affair. It was usually a quite uneventful +time. This term, however, an occurrence took place that had a big effect +on the growth of Gordon's character. + +Finnemore had caught influenza; the Chief had to go for a week to +Oxford. The Sixth was at a loose end. Various masters took it in various +subjects, or at least were supposed to. Most of the week was spent in +the studies, as the master in charge forgot to turn up. + +One afternoon, Ferrers was to take them in English. But Ferrers was +engaged in writing an article on the "New Public School Boy" for _The +Cornhill Magazine_, and wanted to be quiet. He sent the form to their +studies to write an essay on a typical Ferrers subject: "Poetry is in +the first instance the outpouring of a rebel." It had to be shown up by +six o'clock. + +Gordon revelled in it. During the long afternoon he poured out his +fierce soul. His life was now a strange paradox. Half the time he +thought of poetry, worshipping any sort of rebellion against the +conventional standards of living. At other times he was like the +ordinary Philistine, blindly worshipping games, never seeing that they +led nowhere, and were as a blind alley. This afternoon Gordon forgot +everything but Swinburne, Byron, Rossetti, and the poets of revolt. He +stigmatised Wordsworth as a doddering old man, not knowing that his +return to nature was the greatest revolution in English literature. In a +text-book he saw Shelley described as a rebel. He got a copy of his +works out of the library, but found little there resembling the work of +his own favourite. However, he quoted a verse out of _O World, O Life, O +Time!_ and decided to search more deeply later on. The bulk of the essay +was a glowing eulogy of _The Hymn to Proserpine_ and _Don Juan_. It was +very dogmatic, very absurd in parts, but it had the merit of enthusiasm, +and, at any rate, showed a genuine appreciation of a certain class of +literature. + +Well satisfied, he made his way across to the Sixth Form room, and found +Ferrers gazing at a pile of papers, as Hercules must have gazed at the +Augean stables. + +"Um," said Ferrers, "who are you?" + +"Caruthers, sir. I have brought you the essay you set the Sixth." + +"Right; let's have a look at it; hope it is better than the stuff I have +just been reading." + +"Yes, yes, um--ah," he murmured to himself, as he read on. There was +clearly some hankering after style, some searching for an idea. Ferrers +dearly wanted to smile at the attack on Wordsworth, and the comparison +between Swinburne and Milton (whom Gordon had never read), all in favour +of the Pre-Raphaelite. But he knew that it would be a fatal thing to do; +it would seem superior; the master must come down to the boy's level. He +read on to the end of the wild, sprawling peroration. + +"Not bad stuff, Caruthers, not bad at all. Far and away better than +anything I have so far struck. I must talk to you again about this; I am +glad you love Byron; I do myself; people run him down--fools, that is. +You stick to Byron, he is all right. And don't despise the rest too +much. Have a shot at Keats and Shelley. They are not so powerful, but +good all the same, very fine stuff.... Try _The Pot of Basil_. Must rush +off now. Are you in training? No! Not yet. Right. Come up to tea +to-morrow. Good-night." + +And thus began a friendship that was the most permanent in Gordon's +school career. + +Every Friday he used to climb up the hill past Rogers's house, and step +out down the white London road to Ferrers's cosy little home. Over a cup +of tea he read an essay. Ferrers would lie back listening, and then +discuss it with him. He sometimes blamed the actual expression of it, +but he never found fault on questions of taste. He let Gordon browse at +will in the fields of English literature; he suggested books he thought +Gordon would like; he did not try to rush him on. There was heaps of +time; he would let Gordon develop on his own lines. + +From these evenings Gordon derived a pleasure that he found it hard to +explain. He was thankful to get away from the footer talk, the +inevitable intrigues, scandals, all in fact that went to form the daily +curriculum. The world of ideas was far more attractive. Ferrers, +although himself a quarter-mile Blue, looked upon games as a recreation, +and upon school life as a mud-heap that had to be washed clean. Poetry, +drama, the modern novel, these were what Ferrers loved; and Gordon was +glad to find someone who thought like this. He felt uplifted after his +talks with Ferrers, he walked back to the House buoyant, as it were on +wings. Then as the school gates rose before him, and he heard the sound +of a football bouncing in the court, the old routine caught him once +more. He plunged into the old life with the same zest. He devised a new +scheme for avoiding work, thought out an idea for teaching forwards to +heel, laughed, discussed athletics and was well content. He tried to +analyse his feelings, but could not. He was now two separate persons. At +times he was the dreamer, the lover of art and poetry; at another the +politician, the fighter who lived every minute of his life deeply to the +full, with one fixed aim before him. Gordon wondered if this apparent +paradox in himself was in any way an answer of the enigma that an +artist's life so frequently was utterly different from the broad +outlines of his work. Browning had talked of a man having "two +soul-sides." Had he two soul-sides, one for the world, the other for +art--and Ferrers? But then Browning had spoken contemptuously of the +"one to face the world with." Surely games were as good as poetry? Or +weren't they, after all? He felt an unanswerable doubt, and at such +times of introspection he would stop trying to think and merely let +himself be carried on in whatever course fortune chose to bear him. And +so the Jekyll and Hyde business went on. + + + + +CHAPTER VI: THE GAMES COMMITTEE + + +In the mud and the rain the School House Two Cock team, coming up early +from a puntabout, joined the crowd watching the last stages of the +Buller's _v._ Claremont's house match, and cheered Claremont's to the +echo. It was a remarkably fine game. When "no side" was called, the +score was nine all. Extra time was played, and just before the close, +amid great enthusiasm, a limping Claremont's forward fell over the line +from the line out. None shouted louder than the School House contingent. +Everyone had grown tired of the Buller's domination. They had been +successful too long. For two years they had not lost a single house +match. The Thirds had been their first reverse; but even then they had +triumphed over all their outhouse opponents. This was the first +occasion, since Gordon had been at Fernhurst, that the Buller's colours +had been lowered by an outhouse side. It signified the breaking up of +their rule. Gordon shouted like the Vengeance following the tumbrils. He +roared loudly under "the Bull's" nose, stamped off the field to tea, +without a thought of the effect that his demonstration might have had +upon "the Bull" himself. + +As it happened, to "the Bull" the incident meant a lot. + +"What is the reason of it?" he said to Felston that evening. "How have I +made these School House men, and especially Caruthers, hate me? They +seem to delight in the defeat of my house. Of course, I can understand +their wanting their house to beat mine, but why should they worry so +much about Claremont's doing so? I can't understand it; and Caruthers +will be leading the school scrum in two years. We must not have bad +feeling between the houses. Honest rivalry is all right; but there seems +so much spite about it all nowadays. It was not so when I was a boy, and +it wasn't so three years ago. I don't understand." + +A climax was reached in the Two Cock, a match rendered famous in +Fernhurst history by the amazing refereeing of a new master named +Princeford, who had come as a stop-gap for one term. The match was +played in the mud and slush, and was entirely devoid of incident. The +play rolled from one end of the ground to the other. Archie performed +prodigies of valour; Gordon did some brilliant things; Collins was quite +fierce; but good football was impossible under the circumstances. Early +in the first half, amid tremendous cheering, Lovelace scored a fine try, +by the touch-line. There was no doubt about it. The school lined up +behind the posts. But Princeford would have none of it. He came up, +fussing and important: + +"No try, there. Knock on. Scrum!" + +A gasp went up from both sides. Was the man blind? + +"What is the fool talking about?" thundered Gordon. + +Princeford was round in a second: "Who said that?" + +Gordon stepped forward. + +"Ah, I shall remember you." + +The game continued; the outhouses amazed at such luck; the School House +sullen and indignant. The play developed into a series of forward rushes +resulting in nothing. It was an amazingly dull game to watch. From one +of these rushes Gordon got clear; the full-back fell on the ball, Gordon +took a huge kick at the ball. One had to kick hard on such a sticky +ground. He missed the ball, and caught the back on the side of the head. + +"Oh, damned sorry," he said. + +It was quite unintentional, as would have been obvious to anyone who +knew anything about the game. No one would be fool enough to kick the +man, when by kicking the ball he might score a try. But Princeford was +on Gordon like a shot. He began to lecture him before all the masters on +unsportsmanlike play, and threatened to send him off the field. Gordon +glowered at him. It was a combat of temperaments. The game resulted in a +draw. No try was scored. It was a dull performance, occasionally +relieved by individual brilliance. Everyone was disappointed. + +Sullen and silent, the House side trooped up to tea. They had won the +match, of that there was no doubt. And they had been done out of their +victory. + +The limit was reached when, muddy and cold, they found that the new +boot-boy had forgotten to heat the boiler, and there was only cold water +to wash in. + +The changing-room was filled with the sound of oaths and curses. + +But when the effects of Princeford's refereeing and the boot-boy's +forgetfulness had worn off slightly, the House felt more content. After +all, they had not been beaten. They had got the cup for half the year at +any rate. Things might be worse. And when in hall that night Hazelton +gave him his House cap, all Gordon's rage was overwhelmed by the feeling +that his dearest object had been achieved. The boot-boy was forgiven; +Princeford faded into the background of insignificance from which he had +temporarily emerged. + +But the matter did not end there: other fingers were itching to be in +the pie. Christy and Rogers, walking up from the field together, came to +the conclusion that that incorrigible nuisance Caruthers had disgraced +Fernhurst football. Princeford was a master from Sedbury; he had only +come for one term as a special concession, because his headmaster was a +great friend of the Chief. What sort of an impression would he carry +away of Fernhurst manners and sportsmanship, if Caruthers should be +allowed to go unpunished, not only for playing a deliberately foul game, +but also for using most foul language? And so these two, neither of whom +knew anything about football, while both were immensely aware of their +own importance, made their way to "the Bull's" study to pour out their +grievances. "The Bull" was laid up with influenza, and had been +prevented from watching the match. They found him lying on his sofa. For +over an hour they elaborated the tale of Gordon's misconduct. + +They pointed out that the object of house matches was to promote a +keenness in school football, and to provide interest for those who were +not good enough to get into the school team. The School House had for +years during the Easter term isolated itself from the rest of the +school. It had considered itself as apart, a school in itself. Such an +attitude militated against _esprit de corps_; it made the house appear +more important than the school. It led to bad feeling between houses. In +Caruthers were developed all the worst faults of this system. His +keenness for his house had so far drowned his affection for his school +that he used any tactics to reach his end. He took defeat in an +unsportsmanlike manner. This afternoon's play had made this clear. And +what was worst of all was that Caruthers had a sufficient personality to +attract others. "Moths are always attracted by the flame," said Rogers +pompously. If Caruthers were dealt with effectively at once, this +poisonous School House notion of its own importance would collapse. Was +it going to be put an end to? That was the question they put to Mr +Buller; and they took over an hour in putting it. + +"The Bull" listened to all they had to say, and as soon as they began +repeating themselves, and he realised they had given all the information +they could, told them he had now to dress for dinner, but that he would +consider the matter carefully and let them know his opinion later on. +Like two obsequious courtiers before an Eastern monarch, Rogers and +Christy bowed themselves out, inarticulate with advice and last words. + +"The Bull" smiled. He was too big a man to be taken in by such obvious +hypocrisy. These men amused him greatly, especially because they both +thought he took them seriously. But, for all that, he saw that there was +a good deal of truth in what they had said. He wished he had been at the +game himself. It was so hard to form an estimate on the strength of +partial onlookers. Princeford's refereeing might have been exasperating; +but, damn it, even if it had, a sportsman should not make a fuss about +it! It was all part of the game. But Caruthers did not treat a House +match as a game, but as the real business of life. That was what +rankled. Caruthers would laugh when he dropped a catch in a Colts match, +or missed his collar on the upper; but in a House match his face would +be set, his eyes wide and eager. Humour had for the moment ceased to +exist, as far as he was concerned. He clearly preferred his house to his +school. Was he stirring up any feeling between the outhouses and the +School House? He remembered an occasion terms back when Gordon in a +House game had shouted out: "Let the swine have it." Then, again, there +was that affair of bribing Burgoyne to lay out one of his men. And then +the incident this afternoon. Outwardly he was doing his very best to +separate the interests of his house from those of the school, to split +Fernhurst into two factions. But supposing, after all, these were merely +outward signs, supposing Gordon's excessive keenness, coupled with the +rash hotheadedness of youth, led him where his cooler judgment would +have checked him. If that were so, and if strong measures were taken, +might not his keenness change into a hatred of Fernhurst, might it not +lead him to open antagonism with the rest of the school? Punishment +might merely inflame and not crush him, while if his feelings were only +the natural effervescence of youth, they would wear down in time, and +then all would be well. Yet he realised that it is the things which show +that count in this world, a man is judged not by what he is, but by what +he appears to be. Everything pointed to the belief that Gordon was +working against the interests of Fernhurst; whether he actually meant to +do so or not was immaterial. He had to be dealt with as if it was +deliberate. It might be hard on him, but it was not the interests of the +individual, but of the community, that had to be considered. + +"The Bull" sent for Akerman, the school captain, after chapel on Sunday +morning. + +"Akerman, I want to speak to you about Caruther's behaviour in the Two +Cock yesterday afternoon. Of course, I did not see what happened, but +from what I have heard I think measures ought to be taken. It is a +serious matter. Light measures are no good. I know Caruthers; you have +got to crush him, or he will laugh at you. I think what is required is a +thrashing from the Games Committee. He is bound to be awed by the +disapproval of a body representing Fernhurst football. I suppose now +that the Games Committee wouldn't raise any objection? What about +Hazelton?" + +"Well, sir, Hazelton went to the matron last night, and they discovered +he had got mumps. I just passed him on the way to the sanatorium." + +"Um! That means there is no School House representative. There must be +one. It would not do for it to appear a school thing, got up against a +School House boy. It would only help to alienate the two parties still +more. Let's see, who is the next senior man in the School House?" + +"Pilcher, sir." + +Pilcher was one of those people who, though quite efficient at +everything--he was in the Upper Sixth--pass through the school without +leaving any mark behind them. He was outside three-quarter, and was well +worth his place in the side, but he was in no way a blood. He was never +seen. He was always in his study. His was a blameless, uneventful +career. + +"He won't raise any objection, will he?" + +"I shouldn't think so, sir." + +Akerman had difficulty in not smiling. + +"Very well, then, you had better call a meeting of the Games Committee +this afternoon and talk over the matter. If anyone makes a fuss, say I +agree with it; and I expect it will be all right." + +There was no need, however, for any recourse to the oracle. The Games +Committee consisted of the captains of each house. None of them cared +the least what happened to Caruthers; he was nothing to them. Pilcher +supposed it was all right. The grand remonstrance was passed. + +On Monday at twelve-thirty Gordon was summoned by a fag to attend in the +school library. The six members of the Games Committee sat around a +circular table on which lay two canes. It all looked very impressive. + +Akerman rose. He began to read a speech off a piece of school paper. +Gordon had wondered why he had been so very energetic in taking down +notes during the Chief's divinity lecture that morning. The speech went +on. It was full of the inevitable platitudes about _esprit de corps_ and +a sportsmanlike spirit. Now and then Akerman stumbled, and had some +difficulty in reading his own writing. If there had not hung over him +the prospect of a very severe beating, Gordon would have enjoyed himself +thoroughly. Akerman was so pricelessly absurd. The rest looked painfully +self-conscious. Why could not Akerman have learnt his speech? It was so +bad that he could not imagine anyone having any difficulty in making it +up as he went along. Akerman was afraid of expressing an opinion. He +prefaced every remark with "Mr Buller says." It gave a sense of +security. The speech ended; everyone except Gordon was relieved. + +"Bend over there." + +The beating was not so horrible an ordeal as he had expected. In the +same spirit in which the outhouse captains had raised no objection, +merely because they did not care in the least what happened to Gordon, +so now they did not take any particular trouble to hurt him. The ordeal +was rather a fiasco. + +A halting oration had led to an even tamer execution. As Gordon walked +down the library steps he was painfully aware of having been the +principal character in a scene of sustained bathos. The body that +represented Fernhurst football had scarcely risen to the dignity of its +trust. + + * * * * * + +And then a sudden wave of feeling swept over him; and he saw the +horrible unfairness of the whole thing. It did not matter that Akerman +had made himself utterly ludicrous, or that the rest of the Games +Committee had been led to carry out a programme which they knew to be +hypocritical. It was the spirit that mattered. And at the back of it all +moved "the Bull" pulling the strings. In front of the School House +porch, clearly, dispassionately, Gordon put his case. + +"I know when I play football I get a bit excited; I know my feet fly all +over the place. They did that ever since I was a baby. I know I +sometimes lose my temper. But I have been like that always. I have +played the same game in the Thirds, and in the Colts, my first term and +yesterday. But nobody said anything then. Do you remember the Milton +match? I went a bit far then: I was fearfully ashamed of myself +afterwards; I thought my play had been a disgrace to the school. But did +'the Bull' think so? Good Lord, no. He gave the side a jaw, and said +that they were a disgrace to the school, with the exception of me! I +played hard and all that, while the rest slacked and funked! I was +singled out for praise in the roughest game I have ever played. And now +what happens? The House begins to win its matches; 'the Bull' sees his +house losing cup after cup. He and Akerman and the other fools think +something must be done. So they wait for an opportunity and then give me +a Games Committee beating, to try and frighten the rest of the House. +They talked about my unsportsmanlike play. They did not mind when I +played rough against Milton. Oh dear, no! But when they find their own +dirty shins being hacked, they sit up and shriek. And they wait till +Hazelton stops out, too!" + +Everyone agreed with him. From Dan to Beersheba there was but one +opinion. Buller had not been playing the game. The authorities were +against them. The House would have to cling together to protect its +rights. They could not have Buller trampling on them, dictating terms. +He had begun the contest; they would be prepared for him next time. An +aura of antagonism overhung the grey studies. Members of Buller's house +were dealt with in the sweeping delineation of "the swine across the +road." For the rest of the term, every time Princeford passed the School +House on his way to the common room, a whistle blew from the dark +recesses of the studies, and some voice shouted: "No try; off-side!" +"The Bull" himself was looked on with a general suspicion. The +inevitable had happened. "The Bull" in his attempt to sacrifice the +individual to the community had forgotten that the community is at the +mercy of the individual. The world is composed of a number of +individuals round whom parties and nations cling. "The Bull" had made an +attack on the individual, and the community that Gordon represented took +up his attitude of defiance, strengthening his resolve not to give way, +to keep the House independent of the tyranny that drew five outhouses +together as one. The House was not to be coerced. Its members would be +free to think, to do, to speak as they thought best. From that moment +Gordon took the interests of the House and not Fernhurst as the standard +by which to judge all his thoughts and actions. + +And so it happened that just at this moment, when the House was bubbling +over with suppressed wrath, a chance was given them of showing their +independence and defiance. + + + + +CHAPTER VII: REBELLION + + +On the Wednesday after the Games Committee's activities in the library, +Ferrers banged into Betteridge's study, his arms laden with books. There +was a Stoics meeting on the next Saturday, and the card drawn up at the +beginning of the term announced that there would be a reading of _Arms +and the Man_, by Bernard Shaw. But Ferrers, who was now president, never +took any notice of the programme, which he invariably altered a day or +two before the meeting. This imposed a considerable strain on those who +had to get up fresh parts and prepare different speeches at a second's +notice. But as the alterations were nearly always an improvement no one +minded. + +"Sorry, Betteridge--had to change Stoics' thing. Just picked up +this--_Younger Generation_, by Stanley Houghton--ordered fifteen copies +from Sidgwick & Jackson--good publishers. Do you know them? I've marked +our parts--here they are--no more time. Good-night." + +He was gone in a second. And the unfortunate secretary was left with the +lot of distributing copies and drawing up fresh notices. It was just on +lock-up, so there was no time to do anything till the next day. He +settled himself down to read the play. In a very short while he was +thoroughly engrossed; by the time he had reached the end of the first +act he had no doubt that Saturday would witness the most successful +meeting of the Stoics since the historic occasion when Macdonald and +Rogers had been persuaded to speak on opposite sides on "Trade +Unionism," and Rogers had been most gloriously routed. + +Betteridge went in search of Tester and Gordon. + +"Come up to my study and read a play Ferrers has got hold of for the +Stoics. It's glorious stuff." + +"All right," said Gordon. "I will go and fetch Rudd." + +"For God's sake, don't bring that outsider." + +"Oh, hell, why not? He is quite respectable; and, after all, he is one +of the best of our regular readers." + +"All right then: fetch him along." + +Since their scandalous ramble Gordon had become more or less friends +with Rudd, and had to a large extent helped to make his life more +bearable. + +The four sat silent, reading the play. There was occasionally a +suppressed laugh: otherwise no one spoke at all. + +In under an hour they had all finished. + +"Jolly good," said Gordon. "I do like seeing this younger generation up +against the rotten conventions of the mid-Victorian era." + +"Deal gently with them," murmured Betteridge. "Their horsehair +arm-chairs have stood the test of time very well." + +"Too well: but their Puritan ideas are in the melting-pot now. Their day +is over." + +"You know I am not sure that the Stoics is the right audience for a play +like this," said Tester. + +"Good heavens, man," protested Gordon, "you don't think it would corrupt +their morals, do you?" + +"Of course not, you ass! I don't think they would understand it: that's +all. They will laugh at it, and think it funny. But they won't really +see what Houghton is driving at. They won't understand that he is trying +to cut away the shackles of mature thought that are impeding the limbs +of youth. The lads in the Remove will be frightfully amused; they will +think the father an awful old fool, and the son the devil of a rip. They +won't see that both of them are real characters, and that a hundred +families to-day are working out their own little tragedy just on these +very lines." + +"But surely there are really no fathers quite so absurd as old Kennion. +Does not Houghton exaggerate the type, as Dickens exaggerates all his +types?" + +"Oh no, he's real enough; I expect there are a good many like him living +in Fernhurst now." + +The truth of the last remark was brought home three days later. + +On the Friday before the debate Ferrers got a bad attack of influenza. +There would be no one to take the chair. Moved by an instinct of +courtesy, Ferrers wrote to Christy a little note, enclosing the book, +and asking him to preside. + +On Saturday morning Christy went up to Betteridge in break. + +"Ah, Betteridge, Mr Ferrers has asked me to take the chair at the +Stoics. Well, I myself would not be present when such a play was read. +It is aimed at the very roots of domestic morality. It might do very +well in a small circle of Senior boys. But it would have a very serious +effect on young boys who are not as mature as you or I are. None of my +house will attend; and, from a conversation I had with Mr Rogers and Mr +Claremont, I am fairly certain they will not allow their houses to go +either. It would be really much better to wait until Mr Ferrers is well +again before anything is done. It would be quite easy to postpone the +meeting, I suppose." + +"Oh yes, sir, of course." + +Betteridge was not paying much attention: he was thinking hard. The bell +for school rang. + +"That will be all right then, Betteridge." + +"Quite, thank you, sir." + +Christy, bubbling with satisfaction, rushed off to tell the head of +Buller's that the meeting had been postponed. Things were turning out +well for him. He had obtained the beating of Caruthers, and now he had +most distinctly scored off Ferrers. He did not stop to think that both +these campaigns had been carried on behind his enemy's back. + +But in his moment of triumph over Ferrers he did not pause to think +whether he had also triumphed over the School House spirit of antagonism +which he himself had stirred up. + +During the half-hour between morning school and lunch, Betteridge, +Tester and Gordon held a council of war. + +"Of course, whatever we do," said Betteridge, "is bound to be in the +nature of farce. Three houses, you see, won't turn up at all, +Abercrombie's hardly ever sends anyone, and I don't mind betting that +Christy gets round 'the Bull' somehow." + +"Yes; but, confound it all," said Gordon, "are we going to be dictated +to by these outhouse potentates? The Stoics is more a School House +society than anything else; and, what's more, it is going to remain so. +These outhouse men can come or go if they want to. It does not matter to +us. Let us read this play with a School House cast, carry the thing +through somehow, and show these fools like Christy what we think of +them. Now is our chance of proving our independence." + +"Won't there be a hell of a row, though?" said Betteridge reluctantly. + +"What if there is, man?" said Gordon. "We can't help that. Somehow or +other that play is going to be read. Let this evening be a symbol of the +House's attitude. These houses have flung down the glove. They beat our +forwards when we win matches, and they try and stop our meetings. Damn +it, we'll pick up the glove!" + +"Yes," shouted Gordon, "and fling it in their snivelling faces." + +Betteridge drew up a huge notice of the meeting after hall and posted it +on the school board. It ran as follows: + + In spite of the fact that many of the usual readers will be + prevented from attending the Second Meeting of the Stoics this + term, the Society will read, at seven-thirty, in the School + House Reading Room, + + _THE YOUNGER GENERATION_ + + BY STANLEY HOUGHTON + + Cast .... + + (_Signed_) C.P. BETTERIDGE. + +That evening was historic. Every member of the School House attended the +meeting, the members of the day-room as well as those from the studies. +The reading-room was packed. It was a record meeting. The reading was +erratic. Parts were forced at the eleventh hour on reluctant and totally +unsuitable persons. But somehow or other they got through it in the end; +and that was all that mattered. + +But still it was not without a little nervousness that the conspirators +awaited developments. Christy saw the notice and fumed. Ferrers heard of +it and laughed. Rogers rushed to the Chief palpitating with rage. + +After lunch the Chief sent for Betteridge, and asked for a copy of _The +Younger Generation_. There was an air of nervous anticipation pervading +the studies. Just before tea the Chief sent for Betteridge again. + +"A very interesting play. Very modern, of course, but extremely clever. +Thank you so much for lending it me. I wish I had been at the reading. A +record attendance, I hear. Well, ask me to come next time you get as +good a play as that." + +There was no reference to the outhouse boycott. The Chief was very +tactful, and, moreover, he had enjoyed reading the play immensely. +Besides, it would not have done any good if he had made a fuss, +especially when he was entirely in sympathy with Betteridge. + +In _The Fernhurst School Magazine_, which was edited by Betteridge, +there appeared the following paragraph:-- + + "On Saturday, 5th March, before a record and appreciative + audience, the Stoics read _The Younger Generation_, by Stanley + Houghton. There was no one who failed to realise the + extraordinary insight into the life of the day that made such a + work possible. The enthusiasm and applause were highly + significant, as showing what a keen interest the school is + taking in all questions of social and domestic life. There were + rather fewer representatives from the outhouses than usual, but + this was as well, as there would have been little room for + them." + +The victory of Christy was not so very complete after all. + +With this successful demonstration Gordon's excitement in House politics +abated. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII: THE DAWNING OF MANY DREAMS + + +The Three Cock came and went, bringing with it House caps for Lovelace, +Collins and Fletcher, but it caused little stir. Everyone had foreseen +the result, and without Hazelton (ill with mumps) the House stood little +chance of keeping the score under fifty. Hostilities were declared +closed for the time being. The four weeks of training for the sports +came on, and Gordon's Sixth Form privileges were restored. For a short +time the hold of athleticism was weakened, and as it weakened, the hold +of literature became more firm. + +"House Caps" were always allowed a fairly slack time after the Three +Cock, and Gordon made the best of his. While the last traces of winter +were disappearing, and the evenings began to draw out into long, +lingering sunsets, he voyaged on into the unknown waters of poetry. +Keats and Shelley, names which had once meant nothing to him, now became +his living prophets. He felt his own life coloured by their +interpretations. During the days of his quest for power, when the scent +of battle had led him on, he had found inspiration only in those whose +moods coincided with his own. But now that the contest was over and +strife was merged into a temporary lull, there came a check in the fiery +search for achievements. He found pleasure in the gentler but far more +beautiful melodies of Keats. Byron and Swinburne had beaten so loudly on +their drums, and blown so forcibly on the clarion that his ears had been +deafened. But in the peaceful afterglow of satisfied desire he asked for +soft and quiet music. + +During this time he saw a great deal of Ferrers. Together they discussed +all the questions that to them seemed most vital. The Public School +system came in for a great deal of abuse. + +"A lot wants altering," Ferrers said. "Boys come here fresh from +preparatory schools. If they are clever and get into higher forms, they +are put among bigger boys, and they get their outlook coloured by them. +They get wrong impressions shoved into their heads, cease to think at +all, lose all sense of honesty and morality. Then the school that has +made them like this finds out what they are, and sends them away." + +"By Jove, that's just what Jeffries said." + +"Jeffries--who is Jeffries? I don't know him." + +"He was a splendid fellow; but, like most other people, he followed the +crowd, then got caught and had to go." + +"That is it; always the same. Usually the least bad are sacked, too; +never heard of a real rake getting sent away; the rakes are far too +clever. Cleverness is what counts, counts all through life. A man is +expelled only because he is not clever enough to avoid being caught, and +then the school thinks it's saving the others by sending him away. And +it does no good. The big wrong 'un stays on, only the weak one goes. +Human nature is a thing that has got to be dealt with carefully, not in +the half-hearted way it is here." + +Ferrers wrote a great deal about Public Schools to the various London +papers. He was fast winning a name in the educational world. But he was +always being asked to modify his statements. He raved against the +weakness of the authorities. + +"They don't want to know the truth," he said, "they are afraid to hear +it. 'Tell us lies,' that's what they say. 'Lull us into a false +security. A big bust-up is coming soon, but keep it off till after we +are gone.' They know their house is built on sand, running out into the +river. They want to barricade their own tiny houses for a little. I want +to go and search for the big firm land, but they are too comfortable on +their cushions and fine linen to dare to move. Oh, prophesy smooth +things!" + +Gordon listened intently to it all. Ferrers was his ideal. Often they +would talk of books: of the modern novel; of Compton Mackenzie, in whom +idealism and realism were one; of Rupert Brooke, the coming poet, who +was to make men believe in the beauties of this earth, instead of +hankering after an immaterial hereafter; of the Elizabethan drama, of +Marlowe, Beaumont, Webster. They were very wonderful, those hours. +Gordon felt that he had at last, after wandering far, come to his +continuing city. Glancing back over his last two years, he used to laugh +and say: + +"I don't regret them; I was happy; and the only thing to regret is +unhappiness. But I have outgrown them; they did not last. They were what +Stephen Phillips would number among the 'over-beautiful, quick fading +things.' They were good days, though. But I am happier now. I can see +the future spreading out before me. Next winter Hunter will be captain, +but I shall be second in the team and lead the forwards. It will be a +year of preparation. Then will come my year of captaincy. All the things +I wanted seem falling into my hands. 'Life is sweet, brother,' life is +sweet!" + +And, looking back, it seemed as if in the wild orgy of Pack Monday Fair +he had finally burnt the old garments and put on the new. That day had +been the funeral pyre of his old life; and, like Sardanapalus, it had +died of its own free will. A glorious end; no anti-climax. But the +future was still more glorious. When he watched the morning sun flicker +white on the broad Eversham road from the station to the Abbey, the +leaves breaking on the lindens, the dim lights waking in the chapel on +Sunday, he saw how far he had outgrown his old self. Now he had begun to +perceive what life's aim should be--the search for beauty. Tester had +been right when he said that beauty was the only thing worth having, the +one ideal time could not tarnish. And yet Tester was not satisfied. The +hold of the world was too strong on him. He could see where others were +going wrong, but he himself was all astray, at times morbidly wretched, +at others hilarious with excitement. It was merely a question of +temperament. Gordon saw stretching before him the fulfilment of his +hopes. There was no niche for failure. His destiny would unroll smoothly +like a great machine; he was at peace, in sympathy with a world of +beautiful ideas and dreams. At times he would feel an unreasoning anger +with the Public School system, but his rage soon cooled down. After all, +it had left him at the last unscathed, and was in the future to bring +many gifts. Others might be broken on the wheel; but he was still +sufficiently an egoist, sufficiently self-centred to be indifferent to +them. He had come through, with luck perhaps, but still he had come +through. That was all that mattered. He had not read Matthew Arnold's +_Rugby Chapel_. If he had, he might have recognised himself in the +pilgrim who had saved only himself, while the world was full of others, +like the Chief, who were "bringing their sheep in their hand." But +probably even if he had read the poem at that time, he would have been +too happy, too self-contented, too successful to realise its poignant +truth. And it would not have been surprising. Youth is always intolerant +and self-centred. It is only when we grow old, and see so "little done +of all we so gaily set out to do," that we suddenly appreciate that, +even if we have ourselves failed, yet if we can by our experience help +someone else to succeed, our life will not be utterly vain. Altruism is +the philosophy of middle age. + +On a few, but very few, occasions Gordon was temporarily roused out of +his secure atmosphere. One of these was on the last day of term, when a +letter appeared in _The Fernhurst School Magazine_ suggesting that the +Three Cock should be changed into a Two Cock, since the School House had +for the last few years proved itself so incapable of holding out against +the strong outhouse combination of three houses against one. Much of +what the writer said was true. The House numbered only about seventy, +while each outhouse contained some forty boys, with perhaps six day boys +attached to each. The House did not take in day boys, so that the House +was always playing against a selection from double its number. A Two +Cock would be far fairer. Nevertheless the House was furious. + +"Confounded old ass," said Mansell. "I believe Claremont wrote it. Let +him wait till next year and he will see his beastly blue shirts rolled +in the mud." + +"But it is such infernal swank," said Gordon. "We smashed them in the +Thirds; to all intents and purposes we routed them in the Two Cock; the +only thing the outhouses won was the Three Cock; and they are so bucked +about that that they want to clinch a victory, get up and shout: 'Look +at us, what devils of fine fellows we are! You can't touch us. Better +take charity.' Unutterable conceit! Why, we won four times running about +seven years ago. I have a good mind to go to Claremont and give it him +straight. Betteridge, you absurd ass, why did you print this thing?" + +"Well, you see, there were a few rather risky things in the paper, and I +thought if I cut it out he might hack about the rest of the rag. And, +besides, it will be an awful score when we win next year, as we are +absolutely certain to. Can't you imagine the account: 'Last year some +rather foolhardy persons doubted the ability of the School House to deal +with a combined side of the best three outhouses, and they were rash +enough to express their doubts in print. But this year, under the able +captaincy of G.F. Hunter, with the forwards admirably led by G.R. +Caruthers, the House gained a thoroughly deserved victory by fifteen +points to three.' We shall crow then, my lads, sha'n't we?" + +"Yes, it will be all right then," said Mansell. "My lord, I wish I was +going to be here to play in it. My governor is a fool to make me leave +and go to France." + +Mansell was leaving at the end of the term. + +"Well, all the same, it's a vile insult to the House," said Gordon. +"Whether he meant it or not, it's an insult." + +But his annoyance passed quickly. He was far too certain of the future +to worry much about what anyone said. He was sure the House would win in +the end. It was only a question of time. And when the prize-giving came, +his anger gave way to pride. His place in form gave him little +satisfaction, for he was easily bottom of the Sixth; but after the books +had been given there came the turn of the House cups. Amid enormous +cheers Lovelace went up for the Thirds cup; amid still louder cheers he +and the outhouse captain stepped up together to receive the Two Cock +cup. Then at tea Hazelton walked into hall carrying the two trophies to +place on the mantelpiece, and the House burst forth in a roar of +cheering. It was all sheer joy; and beyond the present glory shone the +dawn of great triumphs to come. The House was just entering on its +career of success. The day of Buller's was at an end. There only +remained to them the remnants of their earlier glory. Where they had +stood the House was about to stand. And in that hour of triumph Gordon +himself would be the protagonist. + +The short Easter holidays passed happily. Over the fresh grass of +Hampstead Heath Gordon wandered alone on those April mornings, when the +trees were breaking into a green splendour, when the long waters of the +Welsh Harp lay out in the morning sun like a sheet of gold. Looking +across from the firs he saw the spire of Harrow church cutting the red +sky, and the long stretch of country in between rolling out into a +panorama of loveliness. On the road to Parliament Hill he passed the +spot where Shelley found a starving woman dying in the snow, and took +her to Leigh Hunt's house to give her warmth. Near John Masefield's +house was the garden where Keats had written his immortal _Ode to a +Nightingale_. Hampstead was prodigal of associations, and they stirred +the boy's imagination like a trumpet call. + +Then followed the long summer term, with its drowsy afternoons, its +white flannels, its long evening shadows creeping across the courts, its +ices, its innumerable lemonades; everything conspired to make Gordon +supremely happy. Scholastically he had at last achieved his great wish +of specialising in history; a fine-sounding programme which actually +implied that he would not need to do another stroke of work during his +Fernhurst career. Specialising in history was an elastic activity, and +might mean a few hours a week in which to read up political economy. It +might mean what Prothero made it mean--seven hours in school a week, and +the remainder pretending to read history in his study. + +The grey and lifeless Finnemore superintended the history, and, like +everything else he superintended, it was scandalously neglected. +Outhouse people occasionally did a little work; School House men never. +Gordon began by taking quite modest privileges. He knew he had heaps of +time to enlarge his advantages. He started by doing one prose and one +"con" a week, instead of two proses and two "cons" like the rest of the +form. He also gave up one Latin construe book and one Greek book. That +meant about two hours a day to idle in his study. But he found it quite +easy to turn that two into three, and he was well aware that by +Christmas his daily hours of indolence would have reached five. Prothero +at the present moment was only going into school for divinity and +French, and as often as not he told his French master that he was so +much occupied with history that he could not come to French at all. +Nominally he went into school seven hours a week, actually he very +rarely went in more than three. + +The method of teaching history at Fernhurst had been the same from time +immemorial. Gordon was told to buy _Modern Europe_, by Lodge, price +seven shillings and sixpence. He did not, however, put his father to +this expense. History specialists in the School House had for years used +the same book. It had once belonged to a fabulous Van Hepworth, who had +gained a History exhibition at Selwyn somewhere in the nineties. + +No one knew anything of this Van Hepworth. His name was on the school +boards, but he had never been seen or heard of since he had left +Fernhurst for the romantic atmosphere of Cambridge. But he had left +behind him a name that will be remembered in the School House as long as +history is taught by Finnemore. For on his last day, in a fit of +gratitude, he had left to future historians the legacy of his history +notebook. It contained all that Finnemore knew! + +Every week Finnemore set three questions to his specialists--to be done +with books. He had a stock of these questions, and Van Hepworth had +written exhaustive essays on every one of them. All that was needed was +to consult the oracle, and then copy out what he had written. Sometimes, +by way of a change, Finnemore would think of a new subject. But Gordon +would say: + +"Oh, sir, I have been reading about Mary de Medici, and am very much +interested in her. I wondered if I could do a question on her." + +"Of course. I always like you to do what you are interested in. Let me +see. I have a nice little question on her: 'Mary de Medici: was she an +unmixed evil?' An interesting subject which raises quite a lot of +points. And I have one more question for you. 'Compare Richelieu and +Mazarin,' an interesting little psychological study. I think you will +enjoy them." + +Then Gordon would have recourse to the unfailing authority, Van +Hepworth. Sometimes he felt too slack to copy out the questions at all. +On such occasions he would simply read Van Hepworth's essay straight out +of the old, battered book. + +"I hope you won't mind my reading this to you, but I was in rather a +hurry and I doubt if you could quite read my handwriting." + +Finnemore would listen with the greatest interest. + +"Very nice indeed, Caruthers, very sound attitude to adopt. An essay +well worth preserving. You will copy it out neatly, won't you?" + +"Oh yes, sir." + +Gordon wanted to institute a Van Hepworth memorial, and put up a plate +to him somewhere. But there were many obstacles to this. The Chief might +want to know more about him, and the legend had to be kept secret. In +the end he contented himself with having the book bound in full morocco, +so that it might be preserved for future generations, for already the +cardboard cover had become sadly torn. Where Van Hepworth is now, who +knows? This only is certain, that although he has most likely by now +lost all clear recollection of Fernhurst and the grey School House +studies, yet his name is remembered there to-day, with far greater +veneration and respect than was ever paid to him during the days of his +school career. + + "Let us now praise famous men, + Men of little showing, + For their work continueth, + Deep and long continueth, + Wide and far continueth, far beyond their knowing." + +And so Gordon's scholastic career came to an end. He had reached the +"far border town." There would be no need to fret himself about form +orders any more. "Strong men might go by and pass o'er him"; he had +retired from the fray. While others crammed their brains with obscure +interpretations of AEschylus, he lay back reading English poetry and +English prose, striving to get a clear hold of the forces that went to +produce each movement, and incidentally doing himself far more good than +he would have done by binding himself down to the classical regime, +which trained boys to imitate, and not to strike out on their own. +Gordon had already acquired enough of the taste and sense of form which +the classics alone can provide, and which are essential to a real +culture. But he was lucky in stopping soon enough to prevent himself +being forced into a groove, from which he could only judge new movements +by the Ciceronian standards, without grasping the fact that technique +and form are merely outward coverings of genius, and not genius in +themselves. + +To the other delights of this delightful term was added the sudden and +unexpected success of Gordon's cricket. For the first fortnight Gordon +found himself playing on House and Colts games. But as he gathered runs +there with ease, he was soon transplanted to the First Eleven nets, +which he thenceforward only left for a brief spell, after an attack of +chicken-pox. For a member of the School Eleven life has nothing better +to offer than a summer term. There were usually two matches a week. The +team would get off work at ten o'clock, and just as the school was +pouring out in break they would stroll leisurely down to the cricket +field. Everything, in fact, was carried out leisurely. A wonderful +atmosphere of repose hangs over a cricket field in the morning, when the +grass is still sparkling with dew, and there is silence and vast +emptiness where usually is the sound of shouting and hurrying feet. +There was the long luncheon interval, when the members of the Eleven +would wander round the field arm in arm, or lounge on the seats lazy and +contented. Gordon loved to sit in the pavilion balcony watching the +white forms change across between the overs, the red ball bounce along +the grass, the wicket-keeper whip off the bails, the umpire's finger go +up. The whole tableau was so unreal, so idealistic. Then the school +would come down after lunch with rugs and cushions, and would clamour +outside the tuck-shop for ices and ginger beer. Gordon could hardly +connect his present existence with the past two years of doubts, +uncertainties, wild excitements, hurry, bustle--never a second's peace. + +One of his most perfect days was the Radley match. After a long journey, +at the very end of the day they passed through Oxford, and Gordon caught +one fleeting glimpse of those wonderful "dreaming spires," rising golden +in the dying sun. As the team walked up from Abingdon to the college, +Tester, who had at last got into the side, came up and took Gordon's +arm. + +"You know, when I saw Oxford lying out there so peaceful and calm, I +thought I had at last reached the end of searching. This was my first +view of Oxford; by passing the certificate I didn't need to go up for +smalls. Thank God, I am going up there next term. I think I shall forget +all my old misgivings in so completely peaceful an atmosphere. I can't +shake off the Public School ideas yet; I am all adrift; still, I think +it will be all right there." + +Gordon wondered indeed how anyone could fail to find all their dreams +realised in so secluded, so monastic a Utopia. + +The next two days were supremely happy. Gordon, Lovelace and Foster were +put into the same house; and they spent half the night ragging in their +old light-hearted fashion. The match resembled most of the other +performances of that year's Eleven. The whole side was out for eighty. +Gordon hit two fours and was then leg before; Lovelace, with laborious +efforts and much use of his pads, made twenty-three and five leg byes. +But it was a sorry performance, and Radley put up over two hundred. +Fernhurst went in again; and that day Gordon and Lovelace were sent in +first. + +It was an amazing performance. Gordon's cricket was, in honest fact, one +of the biggest frauds that had ever been inflicted on an opposing side. +He had three shots--a cut, a slash shot past cover, and a drive that +landed the ball anywhere from mid-wicket to over short-slip. People used +to say that he tried each of these shots in rotation. That perhaps was +hardly fair; but he invariably cut straight balls and pulled good length +balls on the off stump to the on boundary. This evening, at any rate, he +was in luck. With terrific violence he smote the Radley bowling all +round the field. Some shots went along the ground, more fell just out of +reach of a fielder. It was invigorating but hardly classic cricket. +Still, whatever it was, it produced seventy-two runs, while Lovelace had +scored three. After he left Lovelace became still more cautious. A man +from Christy's was in at the other end, who had been instructed to keep +up his end for an hour. As a matter of fact, they scored exactly two +runs between them in about half-an-hour. That two was from a drive from +Lovelace past cover. + +At such daring Lovelace became much elated. + +"Come on, I say, come on. Lots of runs here. Come on." + +The Radley men were very amused. Lovelace took nothing seriously. It was +as well that "the Bull" was absent. Once, just as the bowler was rushing +up to bowl, Lovelace flung out his hand and said: "Stop! Move the screen +please; your hand is just behind a tree!" + +With great difficulty the screens were moved. + +Once he patted the ball a little way down the pitch, and shouted to the +batsman at the other end, with hand extended: "Stay!" + +There was some subdued laughter. + +Lovelace turned round to the wicket-keeper and said: "Strange as it may +seem, I am the worst member of this rotten side, and I am playing for my +place. This is the way to keep your place at Fernhurst." + +The final achievement was a successful appeal against the light. + +The next day it rained in torrents. + +"Jolly rotten luck," said Lovelace, "and I was certain for a bat for +making my fifty, too." + +"Do you think so?" said Tester. "You know, they don't play to a finish +in England. You are thinking of Australian rules." + +Commemoration came and went, with its tea-parties, parasols, calf-bound +books, sermons and cricket match. The term drew to its close. + +"This is the best term I have ever had," said Gordon. "By Jove, we have +had some good days." + +Yet, of all things, that which remained clearest in his memory was one +day early in the term, when he and Lovelace were recovering from +chicken-pox. The school had gone for a field day to Salisbury, and they +were left behind with Archie Fletcher, who had been ragging Jenks, and +had been kept back for punishment, and a quantity of small fry. No work +was done. In the morning they all had to go into the big schoolroom and +hear Claremont read _Lycidas_ and parts of _Comus_. + +Claremont read remarkably well, and Gordon, in an atmosphere of genial +tolerance and good humour, was able to get a clearer insight into the +real soul of the pedant of the Lower Fifth. For, shorn of his trappings, +Claremont was "a dear old fellow." Among books he had found the lasting +friendship and consolation that among his colleagues he had sought in +vain. And as he read _Comus_, in many ways the most truly poetical poem +in the English language, Gordon realised how sensitively Claremont's +heart was wrought upon by every breath of beauty. + +The afternoon they had to themselves. A net was put up on the field, and +for an hour or so they beat about, regardless of science and footwork. A +relaxation was a good thing now and again. Then they went back to the +studies, and in the absence of its owner laid hold of the games study. +They had the run of it now, and, with an enormous basket of strawberries +before them, played tunes on the gramophone and roared the chorus. As +the evening fell, and the lights began to wake, Gordon and Archie stole +down to the fried fish shop, strictly out of bounds, and returned with +an unsavoury, but none the less palatable, parcel of fried fish and +chips. + +It was a glorious day; they enjoyed all Fernhurst's privileges with its +restrictions removed, and when the notes of _Land of Hope and Glory_ +proclaimed that the corps was marching up Cheap Street, they considered +the return to realities to be almost an intrusion on their isolated +peace. + +In the last week of the term the Colts played Downside, and Gordon was +still young enough to play for them. "The Bull" went with them, and +could not have been kinder. He walked round the ground with Gordon in +the interval, as if there had been never any cause of quarrel between +them at all. They talked of books as well as cricket; and though "the +Bull's" gods were not Gordon's, there was real sympathy between them for +an hour. On the way back in the train, Gordon wondered whether, after +all, he had not been right at the beginning, when he promised to curb +his personality, and merge it into "the Bull's." What good was there in +going his own way, in fighting for what he thought right? Buller always +had had his own way, and things had gone on all right. Why should he try +and alter things? Having realised "the Bull's" faults, should he not +make allowance for them, seeing that his virtues so outnumbered his +failings? He was certainly intolerant of any other opinions but his own; +but then so was Ferrers, whom Gordon worshipped on the other side of +idolatry. The pity was that Ferrers was intolerant of the things he +hated, while Buller was intolerant of the things he admired. It was all +very difficult. For the moment he did not feel ready to come to any +decision. He was too happy to trouble himself. "Sufficient for the day +were the day's evil things." Let the future reveal itself. He would see +how things turned out. + +The concert came, with its _Valete_ of many memories. The school songs +were howled out; hands crossed and swung in _Auld Lang Syne_; the +_Carmen_ nearly brought the roof down. Lying back in bed, Gordon saw +little to regret in the school year that was just ending. Considering he +had been second in the batting averages, he thought they might have +given him his "Firsts"; but it did not matter very much. There was heaps +of time. Three years of fulfilment. Half his school life was over. The +threads of his youth had been unravelled at last; and in the coming year +they would be woven upon the wonderful loom of youth, with its bright +colours, its sunshine and its laughter. As the spring morn flings aside +its winter raiment, so he had put off the garb of his wandering +adolescence. He was prepared for whatever might come. But he was certain +that it was only happiness that was waiting for him. Three years of +success in which would be mingled the real poetry of existence. He would +not write his poetry on paper; he would write it, as Herod had written +it, in every action of his life. His innings was just about to begin. + + + + +BOOK IV: THE WEAVING + + "Alba Ligustra cadunt; vaccinia nigra leguntur." + + VERGIL. + + "Life like an army I could hear advance + Halting at fewer, fewer intervals." + + HAROLD MONRO. + + + + +CHAPTER I: THE TWILIGHT OF THE GODS + + +It is good to dream; but "Man proposes: God in His time disposes," and +Gordon's dream was scattered at its dawn. Hardly a week later a great +nation forgot its greatness, and Europe trembled on the brink of war. +During those days of awful suspense, when it was uncertain whether +England would enter into the contest or not, Gordon could hardly keep +still with nervous excitement. When on the Sunday before Bank Holiday +J.L. Garvin poured out his warning to the Liberal Government, it seemed +for a moment as if they were going to back out. + +On the Tuesday Gordon went to the Oval; Lovelace major was playing +against Surrey. In the Strand he ran into Ferrers. + +"Come on, sir I am just off to the Oval to see Lovelace's brother bat. +Great fellow! Captain of the House my first term." + +"Right you are. Come on. There's a bus!" + +For hours, or what seemed like hours, two painfully correct +professionals pottered about, scoring by ones and twos. Gordon longed +for them to get out. A catch was missed in the slips. + +"Surrey are the worst slip-fielding side in England," announced Gordon +fiercely. The Oval crowd, always so ferociously partisan, moved round +him uneasily. + +At last a roar went up, as Hitch knocked the leg stump flying out of the +ground. Then Lovelace came in. He looked just as he had looked on the +green Fernhurst sward, only perhaps a little broader. He was wearing the +magenta and black of the School House scarf. He was an amateur of the +R.E. Foster type--wrist shots past cover, and an honest off-drive. + +A change came over the play at once. In his first over he hit two fours. +There was a stir round the ground. His personality was as strong as +ever. + +A boy ran on the field with a telegram for him. + +"I bet that means he has got to join his regiment," said Gordon, "and it +also means we are going to fight." + +Lovelace shoved the telegram into his pocket, and went on batting just +as if nothing had happened, just as if he did not realise that this was +his last innings for a very long time. He hit all round the wicket. + +At last a brilliant piece of stumping sent him back to the pavilion amid +a roar of cheering. + +"My word, Mr Ferrers, there goes the finest man Fernhurst has turned out +since I have been there. And, my word, it will be a long time before we +turn out another like him. There will be nothing to see now he has +gone." + +They wandered out into the Kennington Road, excited, feverish. They had +lunch at Gatti's, went into _Potash and Perlmutter_, and came out after +the first act. + +"This is no time for German Jews," said Ferrers, "let's try the +Hippodrome." + +It was an expensive day. They rushed from one thing to another. The +strain was intolerable. After supper they went to the West End Cinema, +and there, just before closing-time, a film, in which everyone was +falling into a dirty duck-pond for no ostensible reason, was suddenly +stopped, and there appeared across the screen the flaming notice: + + ENGLAND HAS DECLARED WAR ON GERMANY + + GOD SAVE THE KING! + +There was dead silence for a moment. Then cheer upon cheer convulsed the +house. The band struck up the National Anthem. The sequel to the tragedy +of the duck-pond was never known. + +"Glorious! Glorious!" said Ferrers, as they staggered out into the cool +night air. "A war is what we want. It will wake us up from sleeping; +stir us into life; inflame our literature. There's a real chance now of +sweeping away the old outworn traditions. In a great fire they will all +be burnt. Then we can build afresh. I wish I could go and fight. Damn my +heart! To think of all the running it stood at Oxford; and then suddenly +to give way. My doctor always tells me to be careful. If I could go, by +God, I would have my shot at the bloody Germans; but still I'll do +something at Fernhurst. Stoics, you know; Army class English. How old +are you? Sixteen! We shall have you for two years yet. This war is going +to save England and everything! Glorious!" + +The flaring lights of Leicester Square, the tawdry brilliance of +Piccadilly seemed to burst into one volcano of red splendour; a thousand +cannons spitting flame; a thousand eyes bright with love of England. The +swaying Tube swept Gordon home in a state of subconscious delirium to +the starlit calm of Hampstead. + +Throughout the long summer holidays this feeling of rejoicing sustained +Gordon's heart. He saw an age rising out of these purging fires that +would rival the Elizabethan. He saw a second Marlowe and a second +Webster. His soul was aflame with hope. He had no doubt as to the +result. Even the long retreat from Mons, with its bitter list of +casualties, failed to terrorise him. Half the holidays he spent in +Wychtown, a little Somersetshire village, and his enthusiasm at one time +took the form of buying bundles of newspapers, which he distributed at +the cottages, so as to keep everyone in touch with the state of affairs. +At one time he thought of going round discussing the war with some of +the villagers; but he soon abandoned this project. He began with an aged +man who had fought at Majuba. + +"Well, Mr Cavendish, and what do you think of the war this morning." + +"Lor' bless you, things beant what they were in my young days. At +Majuba, now, we did things a bit different-like. But these 'ere Germans, +now, they be getting on right well. Be they for us?" + +After this Gordon decided that the natural simplicity of the yokel was +proof against anything he might have to say. He pitied electioneering +agents. + +A week before the beginning of term he received two letters. The first +was from Lovelace, who had got a nomination to Sandhurst, and would not +return to school next term. The other was from Hunter, saying that he +had won a commission in the Dorsets. + +"_Well, Caruthers, old fellow_," he added, "_this means that you will be +captain of the House. I had greatly looked forward to being captain +myself, and had thought out a good many new ideas. But of course all +that has got to go now, and I don't intend to try and pass off my +theories on you; you'll probably have many more than I had, and a good +deal better ones. All I can say is that I wish the very best of luck to +you and to the House. I have no doubt you'll do jolly well. Good luck._" + +Gordon sat silent for a long while. Sorrow at losing Lovelace strove +with the joy of reaching his heart's desire so soon. Finally all other +emotions were lost in the overflowing sense of relief that his days of +waiting for achievement were over. + +In a mood of supreme self-confidence he returned to Fernhurst. + +At Waterloo everyone was talking at the top of his voice. + +"Is it true Akerman has left?" + +"Yes; got a commission in the Middlesex." + +"Good Lord! that'll mean Gregory captain." + +"Hunter has left, too, I hear." + +"Has he?" + +"Caruthers will be captain of the House, then." + +Broken sentences were wafted like strange music to Gordon's ears. He +felt that the eyes of those who once had been his equals looked at him +with a sort of Oriental admiration, in which there lurked traces of +fear. + +He found himself addressed with more respect. One or two people came up +to congratulate him. The green flag waved. The train moved majestically +westward, and his reign had begun. He did not feel the slightest tremor +of nervousness. He remembered Hunter saying at the end of last term that +it was ticklish work being captain of the House. Was it? To Gordon it +seemed no more than the inevitable entrance into a kingdom which was +his by right of conquest. + +The Eversham road swept in its broad curve up to the Abbey, black with +moving figures. Gordon slowly walked up to the House. It was the +privilege of School House prefects to enter by a small gate near the +masters' common room. Haughtily he rang the bell. A wizened old lady +opened the door, bowing with a "Hope you 'ad a good 'oliday, sir." It +was the first sensation of power. + +A crowd had collected round the notice-board in the changing-room. +Gordon murmured "Thank you," and two or three Eton collars moved aside +to give him room. What a change! All the giants of the former generation +had gone. Betteridge had, at the express request of the Chief, come back +for one term. But he alone remained. Gordon was fifth in the House; and, +good Lord, that amazing ass Rudd was a prefect, and second in the House! +He and Gordon had a double dormitory on the lower landing. The number of +boys in the House had sunk to sixty-two, rather a desolating thought for +House matches. + +The Chief was not in his study. Gordon dropped a health certificate on +his table, and gave instructions to one Morgan, a round-faced, ruddy +youth, to shove his bag into his dormitory. Then he wandered over to the +games study. And so this study was going to be his! He had often sat +there with Carter; but he had always felt himself an excrescence. Now it +was his own. He pictured the evenings after a hard game of football, +sitting in front of the fire; the long mornings when he was supposed to +be preparing history for Finnemore, spent in this atmosphere of +luxurious calm. He planned his furnishing of the room. In the broad +window he would hang two bookshelves for his smaller books. On each side +of the fireplace there was also room for bookshelves. Then, standing +against the wooden partition that jutted out into the room would be his +large oak bookcase for the heavy volumes. He would repaper the room, and +a new carpet was a necessity. He went over to the porter's lodge to give +instructions. + +He had already decided to ask Foster to share the study with him. Foster +would be captain of cricket next summer. They would get on well +together. Foster never quarrelled with anyone; and it would be a +suitable combination. He met Foster by the eight-ten train from Exeter, +and informed him of the fact. + +When prayers came, and Gordon stood under the mantelpiece behind the +arm-chair where the captain of the House sat, and looked down at the row +of new boys at the day-room table, it seemed incredible to him that he +had ever been like that. And yet it was only three years ago since he +had sat there, dazed and frightened. + +Prayers were ended. Gordon sat back, his hands resting on the arms of +his big oak chair. The Chief came round, shaking hands. + +"Caruthers, Foster and Davenport, you might come and speak to me for a +moment after you have finished your supper." + +That was not long. No one had ever been known to touch any of the +first-night soup; Gordon had often wondered what happened to it. There +was much of it, and all wasted. + +The Chief greeted them with his invariable fluttering smile. + +"I suppose you know what I want you for? Kitchener called up his +reserves, so I have had to call up mine. None of you would, I think, in +the ordinary course of events have become prefects this term. But as it +is, I am sure you will all do well; and remember that being a prefect +does not merely consist in the privilege of being late for breakfast. +Some of you, who may very likely have views of your own on certain +subjects, must try and make them conform with mine. We must all try to +work together, and I am always ready to give any of you advice if I am +able to, and of course----" + +At this moment there came the discordant sounds that proclaimed the +arrival of the last train from town. Gordon could imagine some wretched +new boy huddled underneath the stairs, ignorant and timid. + +Rudd burst in with a health certificate and outside came the babble of +voices. "I must go and see Chief ... Health certificate ... Confirmation +classes ... Going to specialise in stinks." + +It was clear that the Chief was to have a hard time for the next twenty +minutes interviewing all these candidates for a satisfactory division of +labour. + +"Well, I think that is all just now, thank you." + +He gave them a nod of dismissal. They filed out into the passage, black +with its crowd of clamouring applicants. + +It was not until the next day, however, that Gordon fully realised the +change that had come over Fernhurst. Nearly all the bloods had left. +Gregory was still there, but he had sent his papers in, and expected to +be gazetted in a week or so, and of the Fifteen of the year before he +was the only remaining colour. Two members of the Second Fifteen +remained: one because he was only seventeen, the other, Akerman's +younger brother, because he was going to be a medical student and was +not allowed to take a commission by the War Office. + +The staff also had undergone several changes. Ferrers was practically +the only master under thirty. The rest had all taken commissions, and +their places were filled by grey-beards and bald-heads, long since past +their prime. It was a case of extreme youth face to face with extreme +age. + +"There will be some fun this term," prophesied Archie Fletcher, for whom +the immediate future stretched out into a long series of colossal +"rags." + +Rogers was imperially himself. The Corps was, of course, to be allowed +considerably more time this term. There were two parades a week, one a +company drill on Friday, the other a field day on Wednesday. Besides +this, between twelve-thirty and lunch there would be section and platoon +drill every day. Rogers imagined that O.T.C. work would shortly become +more important and more popular than football; he saw himself taking the +position once held by Buller. On the strength of this alluring prospect +he bought a new uniform. + +For the first few days life was entertainingly disorganised. The +time-table worked out all wrong. Gregory got gazetted; and Akerman, on +becoming captain, forgot the numbers of the football grounds, thus +causing endless and hilarious confusion. No one quite knew what was +happening, but everyone was happily excited, and vaguely garrulous about +"how the war has changed things." + +Gordon found that his new position brought with it certain other +honours. In the Corps, for instance, where for three years he had so +tempered slackness with insolence as to make him the worst private in +the company, he found himself a lance-corporal, in charge of a section. +He was elected to the Dolts Literary Society, under the placid autocracy +of Claremont, who called them his "stolidi." But nothing showed more +clearly the change wrought by the war than the fact that Gordon was +nominated to the Games Committee, before which august body hardly six +months ago he had cut such an inglorious figure. It was a strange irony. + +In the School House every prefect was allowed four fags, so as Foster +and Gordon were both prefects, the games study had a goodly crowd of +menials. For the most part they were simple, insignificant, +Eton-collared mortals, who flitted round the room after breakfast with +dusters, and at various other times of the day came in to see after the +fire. Gordon took little notice of them. Foster had made out a list of +the days on which each fag was on duty; one, Hare, was put in charge, +and when anything went wrong, Hare was considered responsible and +beaten. After two such castigations the excellence of the fagging was +maintained at an unusually high standard. + +The first fortnight of the term was feverish. Corps work was revivified +under the stimulus of war; the field days by Babylon Hill provided +genuine excitement, in spite of the prolixity of Rogers's subsequent +summary of the day's work. There were going to be very few football +matches; but "uppers" were played with the old keenness, and there was +fierce competition for the last places in the scrum. Ferrers wrote a +long article to _The Country_ on "The Public Schools and the War," which +bubbled over with enthusiasm. + +Gordon found authority a pleasant thing. There were, of course, bound to +be little worries, but they were transient. The new boys caused him a +certain amount of trouble. They never would take the trouble to find out +if they were posted for House games. The result was that as often as not +the House found itself playing with only six forwards. Gordon made a +speech to the House on the subject. The very next day Golding, a most +wretched-looking specimen, failed to turn up on a House game. + +Gordon gave him a lecture on the insignificance of the new boy and the +importance of games. + +"This sort of thing can't go on," he said, using the formula that every +prefect has used since the day prefects were first made. "If it did, we +might find everyone cutting House games and going off to pick-ups! What +would happen then?" + +Golding was far too frightened to have any views on the subject. + +"Well, I shall have to beat you." + +Gordon led the way to the empty space by the cloisters where roll was +called. + +"Bend over there!" + +Golding showed a natural reluctance to do anything of the sort. + +"No, right down; and lift up your coat." + +Gordon gave him a fairly hard stroke. Golding squealed "Oh!" and rose, +holding his trousers, and looking round fretfully. Gordon's heart +melted. After all, this was a new kid, and a pretty poor specimen at +that. + +The next shot was very gentle. + +The sequel reached Gordon three days later. Golding had gone back down +to the day-room. Rudd was taking hall, which was, of course, an excuse +for everyone to talk. + +"How many?" asked several voices. "Did he hurt?" + +"Oh, only one and a half," announced Golding, puffed out with pride. +"First hardly hurt me at all, and the second one was quite a misfire." + +This was rather a surprise to those who remembered Gordon's driving +power. Golding was thought rather a "lad" after all. + +Gordon, however, soon dispelled this illusion. A week later he went down +to the House game in which Golding was playing and cursed him roundly +all the afternoon with perfect justice. After tea he gave him six for +slacking: and all delusions about Golding's bravery were immediately +dispelled. + +"Damned little tick," said Gordon. "He made such a fuss that I let him +off lightly, and then he goes down to the day-room and makes out I am a +wreck. Collins, I charge thee, put away compassion! It does not pay with +these degenerates." + +There is nothing more interesting to the artist than watching a thing +grow under one's hand. And Gordon, who had the ambition of the artist in +embryo, was thoroughly engrossed in the training of his House sides. A-K +Junior was a promising side; it beat Claremont's by twenty points, and +Rogers's by over fifty. + +Morgan captained the side, and was easily the best man in it, but among +the lesser lights there was a great display of energy, much of it +misplaced. The worst offender was Bray. To watch him play was to witness +a gladiatorial display of frightfulness. His fists flew about like a +flail, his legs were everywhere. On the whole he did more damage to his +own side than to his opponents. And the amount of energy he wasted every +game in hacking the bodies of any who got in his way must have been +exhausting. Gordon had to speak to him almost severely once or twice. + +In the game against Rogers's, Bray nearly got sent off the field. There +had been a tight scrum which had more or less collapsed. The whistle +blew. Jenks had been persuaded to referee. + +"Now then, form up properly there." + +When the two scrums assorted themselves, Bray was discovered about five +yards from the ball, sitting on the head of a wretched, fat, unwashed +product of Rogers's, punching him violently and ejaculating after each +punch: + +"Damn you! Damn you! Damn you!" + +Jenks looked very fierce. + +"Now then, you stupid fellows. If you go on like that, I shall have to +report you to the Headmaster, and you know what that will mean." + +Bray looked a little frightened, and for the future devoted his energies +to the football and not the footballers, to the distinct advantage of +the side. + +But Gordon began to find that the more his interest increased in House +games, the less interest he took in uppers and Fifteen puntabouts. He +was always wanting to go and see how his House was getting on. As soon +as the first keenness wore off he found the interminable "uppers," +totally unrelieved by the excitement of matches, amazingly dull. Indeed, +the whole school side was beginning to grow weary. Every Monday and +Thursday there was a puntabout. Every Tuesday and Saturday there was the +same game--First Fifteen _v._ Second Fifteen--with one or two masters, +such as Christy, who were no longer as young as they had been. The +result was invariably the same; the First Fifteen won by forty points, +and were cursed by "the Bull" for not winning by sixty. No one could +possibly enjoy such monotony. Every week the business became more +unpopular. + +"The Bull" stamped up and down with a whistle in his hand. + +"I never saw such slackness. What good do you imagine you men will be in +the trenches, if you can't last out a short game of rugger like this? I +don't know what the school is coming to!" + +The side, which had never been good, got worse daily. As a captain, the +younger Akerman was a nonentity. Buller was captain of the side in +everything but name. + +"You know, Foster," said Gordon one Saturday evening after a more than +usually dreary performance, "these uppers are getting about the ruddy +limit." + +"Have you taken all this time to find that out?" growled Foster. "I used +to like footer once. Last year we had a good time on those Colts games. +Of course the old buffalo lost his hair a good deal, but the games were +level at any rate. I can see no sort of fun in winning every time by +forty points. Why can't we have pick-up games, so as to get level +sides." + +"I suppose 'the Bull' wants to get the side working together." + +"Perhaps he does; but why, if there are going to be no matches till +half-way through November? The Downside match is four weeks off, and +till then we have to continue this silly farce twice a week. And, after +all, it does not teach us defence in the least. Our three-quarter men +have not to do any collaring. If we run up against a side that is any +use at attack, we shall be hopelessly dished." + +"I think we shall be dished anyhow. And I am damned if I care much. +Buller has knocked all the keenness out of me, and the rest of the side +say the same thing. Do you know, I actually look forward to Corps parade +day." + +"The same with me. I am fed to death with footer." + +"Still we are having a jolly good time off the field." + +"Are we?" + +"Oh, yes; we are prefects; we haven't got to do any work, and it's +interesting coaching the kids." + +Foster looked dubiously at him. He had no side to coach. He also had to +do some work for his Sandhurst exam. next term. But Gordon's crown was +as yet too fresh to feel the tarnishing damp of disappointment. + + * * * * * + +October went by with its red-gold leaves and amber sunlight. November +swept in bringing a procession of long evenings and flickering lights. +The first boom of the war fever died down. The Fifteen played +listlessly, Upper followed Upper. Puntabout followed puntabout. No one +cared who was in the side. Foster was left out--and thanked heaven! + +"I am about sick of being cursed off my feet, and told I shall be no +good in the trenches because I miss my passes. 'The Bull' has gone +war-mad." + +Gordon _had_ to keep in the side; it would not do for the House captain +to get a reputation for slackness. His play lacked its old fire and +dash, but was still good enough to earn him his place. He knew he was +going off; that he was not nearly so good as he had been the year +before; the thought worried him. But still A-K Junior was doing very +well. + +One Saturday evening there came the sound of thumping feet down the +passage, someone banged himself against the door, and a well-known voice +was shouting: + +"Hullo, Caruthers, my lad!" + +Gordon swung round to find Mansell, with out-stretched hand, looking +magnificent in the top-boots and spurs of the R.F.A. + +"Come in. Sit down. By Jove! this is like old times. I must call up +Archie! Archie!... Here's someone to see you." + +Mansell was just the same as he had been a year ago, a little older, a +little stronger, a little more the man of the world. He was full of +stories; how his men had nearly mutinied because they thought their +separation allowance insufficient; how he had chased deserters half +across England; how he had taken the pretty waitress at the cafe to the +music hall. + +"It's life, that's what it is! I never knew what life was till I went to +Bournemouth. Oh, my God, we do have a time! Damned hard work, of course, +but we do have a time in the evenings! My lord, I nearly put my foot in +it the other night. I saw the devil of a smart girl walking down the +street, and I could have sworn I knew her. I went up and said: 'Coming +for a stroll?' O Lord, you should have seen her turn round. I thought +she would fetch a policeman. And we have a jolly good footer side, too. +We fairly smashed the S.W.B. last week. Oh, it's grand. But, still, I +suppose you are not having a bad time here. It's good to see you lads +again." + +On the next day Mansell stood an enormous tea in the games study. +Everyone of any importance came. The gramophone played, songs were sung. +Never was there seen so much food before. Mansell seemed like a Greek +god who had for a moment descended to earth to reveal a glimpse of what +Olympus was like. + +Gordon went down and saw him off by the five-forty-five. + +"My word! I envy you, Mansell," he said. + +"I shouldn't. I often wish I was back again in the House. All those old +days with Claremont and Trundle, the footer; and all that. We had a +darned fine time. Make the most of it while you've got it." + +As Gordon walked back alone, he had the unpleasant feeling that the best +was over, that the days of ragging, of footer, of Claremont, of Trundle +had gone beyond recall. The friends of his first term, Hunter, Lovelace, +Mansell, they had all gone, scattered to the winds. He alone remained, +and with a sudden pain he wondered whether he had not outlived his day, +whether, like Tithonus, he was not taking more than he had been meant to +take. But then, as he walked through the small gateway, and majestically +wandered up the Chief's drive, he reflected that, even if his splendour +was a lonely one, without the laughter and comradeship he could have +wished for, yet it was none the less a splendour. He must hold on. As +Mansell had said, he must make the best of it while he had it. + +A small boy came up nervously. + +"Please, Caruthers, may I have leave off games for a week? I have had a +bad foot." + +"Did Matron say so?" + +"Oh yes." + +"All right, then." + +He walked up the stairs to his study, smiling to himself. What had he +been fretting himself about? He had his power. He had the things he had +wanted. + + "_Is it not brave to be a king?_ + _Is it not passing brave to be a king_ + _And ride in triumph through Persepolis?_" + +Marlowe had been right, Marlowe with the pagan soul that loved material +things, glitter and splendour, crowns and roses, red lips and gleaming +arms. + + "_A god is not so glorious as a king ..._ + _To ask and have, command and be obeyed._" + +And there was no doubt he was a king. He must make the best of his +kingdom while he held it. + + + + +CHAPTER II: SETTING STARS + + +The same atmosphere of monotonous depression that overhung football soon +began to affect the military side of school life as well. At first there +had been the spur of novelty. The substitution of platoon drill for the +old company routine and the frequent field days led to keenness. But +even the most energetic get weary of doing exactly the same thing three +times a week. There are only three different formations in platoon +drill, which anyone can learn in half-an-hour; and the days were long +past when Gordon's extraordinary commands would form his platoon into an +impossible rabble that could only be extricated by the ungrammatical +but effective command that School House section commanders had used from +the first day of militarism: "As you did ought." + +Those days were over. No mistakes. For thirty-five minutes every Monday, +Wednesday and Friday the School House platoon would move round the +courts in lifeless and perfect formation. And by now the School had +begun to suspect that the field days were conducted mainly to satisfy +Rogers's inordinate conceit. His house had always the advantage. The +limit of endurance was reached one day early in November, when Rogers +took his house out to defend Babylon Hill against the rest of the corps. + +The attack was really rather brilliant. Babylon Hill overlooks the +country for miles. There was a splendid field of fire. It was a boiling +hot day. Rogers's men lay happily on the hill firing spasmodically at +khaki figures crawling up the long valley. Their position seemed +impregnable. + +Early in the proceedings, however, Ferrers, who was conducting the +attack, sent Betteridge with the School House platoon on an enormous +detour to bring in a flank attack. If successful the School House +platoon would be quite sufficient to wipe out the defence, and Rogers +would never notice their loss, as they were sent off at a moment when +the attack was crossing some dead ground. + +Forlorn hopes occasionally come off, and, by a fluke, at the very moment +when the attack surged over the crest of the hill, Betteridge's +exhausted platoon, with shouts and cheers, burst into Rogers's flank. +There was not the slightest doubt that the defence had been cut to +pieces. + +For a minute or two Rogers looked perplexed at the sea of enemies. Then +with customary urbanity he told Ferrers to form up his men and seat them +on the ground, while he gave his impression of the day's work. + +"I think the attack was quite satisfactory. Of course, it stood little +chance against the well-organised defence for which I myself was in a +way responsible. I believe most of the forces would have been destroyed +coming up the hill. But I think the day had a good effect on the morale +of the troops. Now morale----" He enlarged on the qualities of morale +and discipline for about ten minutes, and concluded with the following +courteous reference to the School House flanking movement:-- + +"I could not clearly discern what those persons were doing who came up +on my left. They would have been entirely wiped out. I considered it +somewhat foolish." + +A contemptuous titter broke from the School House platoon, in which +amusement and annoyance were equally mixed. + +"What is the good of trying at all?" said Gordon at tea that night. +"There were we, sweating over ploughed fields, banging through fences, +racing up beastly paths, and then that mouthing prelate says 'rather +silly'! What's the use of trying?" + +"There is none," said Betteridge. "I am going to conduct this platoon in +future on different lines. 'Evil be thou my good,' as the lad Milton +said. We will be unorthodox, original and rebellious." + +A few days later, Gordon and Rudd saw displayed in a boot-shop window a +wondrous collection of coloured silk shoe-laces. + +"Does anyone really wear those things?" said Gordon. + +"I suppose so, or they wouldn't show them." + +"They are certainly amazing." + +They stood looking at them as one would at a heathen god. Then suddenly +Gordon clutched Rudd's sleeve. + +"A notion! My word, a notion! Let's buy some pairs and wear them at +platoon drill to-morrow." + +Gordon was about to burst in to the shop when Rudd detained him. + +"Steady, man, this is a great idea. Let's buy enough for the whole +platoon. It will be a gorgeous sight! Let's fetch Betteridge." + +Flinging prefectorial dignity to the winds, they rushed down to the +studies. + +"Betteridge, you've got to let us draw upon the House funds for a good +cause." + +They poured out the idea. Betteridge was enthusiastic. For six shillings +they bought forty pairs of coloured laces. + +At twelve-thirty next morning a huge crowd lined up under the lindens to +watch the School House parade. Rumour had flown round. + +It was a noble spectacle. Each section wore a different coloured +shoe-lace. Gordon's wore pale blue, Rudd's pink, Foster's green, and +Collin's orange. Everyone was shaking with laughter. Betteridge formed +the platoon up in line facing the School House dormitories; sooner or +later Rogers would pass by on his way from the common room. At last he +was sighted turning the corner of the Chief's drive. Half the school had +assembled by the gates. + +"Private Morgan," shouted Betteridge, "fall out and do up your +shoe-lace. + +"Remainder--present ARMS!" + +Rogers was far too self-satisfied and certain of his own importance to +see that the demonstration was meant for him. But the school saw it, and +so did certain members of the staff, who made everything quite clear to +Rogers that afternoon. Finally, the Chief learnt of the affair. +Betteridge got a lecture on military discipline and on prefectorial +dignity. But a good many of the younger masters thoroughly enjoyed the +rag, and the story of the coloured shoe-laces is still recounted in +common room, when Rogers has made himself unusually tedious about his +own virtues and his cleverness in scoring off his enemies. + + + + +CHAPTER III: ROMANCE + + +The Tonford match was a sad travesty of Fernhurst football. The school +lost by over forty points. Gordon got his "Seconds," in company with +nearly the entire Fifteen. He was not very elated. These things had lost +their value. Still, it was as well to have them. + +The school authorities then came to the conclusion that the expense of +travelling was too great during war-time, and the Dulbridge match was +scratched. + +The Fifteen continued to play uppers. There was nothing to train for. +There was no chance of there being any matches, but the same routine +went on. + +It was in this period of depression that Gordon began to take an +interest in Morcombe. + +Morcombe was considerably Gordon's junior; not so much in years--there +was, as a matter of fact, only a few months between them--as in +position. Morcombe had come late; had made little mark at either footer +or cricket; and had drifted into the Army class, where, owing to private +tuition and extra hours, he found himself somewhat "out of it" in the +House. In hall he used to sit at the top of the day-room table. + +Gordon very rarely took hall. He generally managed to find someone to +assume the duty for him; but one day everyone seemed engaged on some +pursuit or other, so with every anticipation of a dull evening he went +down to hall. He began to read Shelley but the surroundings were +unpropitious. All about him sat huddled fragments of humanity scratching +half-baked ideas with crossed nibs into dog-eared notebooks. There was a +general air of unrest. Gordon tried _Sinister Street_; some of the +episodes in Lepard Street were more in harmony with his feelings, but +there was in Compton Mackenzie's prose a Keats-like perfection of phrase +which seemed almost as much out of place as _Adonais_. As a last resort +he began to talk to the two boys nearest him, Bray and Morcombe. Bray +always amused him; his whole outlook on life was so exactly like his +footer. But for once Gordon found him dull. Morcombe was so much more +interesting. + +In second hall that evening Gordon discovered from a House list that +Morcombe was in the Army class. He consulted Foster on the subject. + +"Know anything about a lad called Morcombe?" + +"Yes; he is in the Army class. Rather a fool. Why?" + +"Oh, nothing. I was talking to him in hall to-night. He didn't seem so +bad." + +"Perhaps he isn't. I haven't taken much interest in him." + +"I see." + +Gordon returned to his book. Five minutes later he began again. + +"Is Morcombe fairly high in form?" + +"Not very. Why this sudden interest?" + +"Nothing." + +Foster looked at him for a second, then burst out laughing. + +"What the hell's the matter with you?" said Gordon. + +"Oh, nothing." + +Gordon looked fierce, and returned once more to the history of Michael +Fane. + +Two nights later Gordon came into his study to find Morcombe sitting +with Foster, preparing some con. + +"Hope you don't mind me bringing this lad in," said Foster, "I am in +great difficulties with some con." + +Gordon grunted, and proceeded to bury himself in _The Pot of Basil_. + +"I say, Caruthers," broke in Foster. "You might help us with this +Vergil? It's got us licked. Here you are: look, 'Fortunate Senex----'" + +Gordon went through the familiar passage with comparative ease. + +"There now, you see," said Foster, "there's some use in these Sixth Form +slackers after all. By the way, what did you think of Claremont's sermon +last night?" + +Conversation flowed easily. Morcombe was quick, and, at times, amusing. +Gordon unaccountably found himself trying to appear at his best. + +"You know," he was saying, "I do get so sick of these masters who go +about with the theory of 'God's in his heaven, all's right with the +world,' and in war-time, too! With all these men falling, and no advance +being made from day to day." + +"Yes," said Morcombe; "I agree with the 'much good, but much less good +than ill' philosophy." + +Gordon was surprised out of himself. + +"I shouldn't have thought you had read the _Shropshire Lad_." + +"We are not all Philistines, you know." + +Thus began a friendship entirely different from any Gordon had known +before. He did not know what his real sentiments were; he did not even +attempt to analyse them. He only knew that when he was with Morcombe he +was indescribably happy. There was something in him so natural, so +unaffected, so sensitive to beauty. After this Morcombe came up to +Gordon's study nearly every evening, and usually Foster left them alone +together, and went off in search of Collins. + +Indeed this friendship, coupled with his admiration for Ferrers, was all +that kept Gordon from wild excesses during the dark December days and +the drear opening weeks of the Easter term. During the long morning +hours, when Gordon was supposed to be reading history, more than once +there came over him a wish to plunge himself into the feverish waters of +pleasure, and forget for a while the doubts and disappointments that +overhung everything in his life. At times he would sit in the big +window-seat, when the school was changing class-rooms, and as he saw the +sea of faces of those, some big, some small, who had drifted with the +stream, and had soon forgotten early resolutions and principles in the +conveniently broadminded atmosphere of a certain side of Public School +life, he realised how easily he could slip into that life and be +engulfed. No one would mind; his position would be the same; no one +would think worse of him. Unless, of course, he was caught. Then +probably everyone would turn round upon him; that was the one +unforgivable sin--to be found out. But it was rarely that anyone was +caught; and the descent was so easy. In his excitement he might perhaps +forget a little. + +And then, perhaps, Ferrers would come rushing up to his study, aglow +with health and clean, fresh existence. And he would talk of books and +poetry, and life and systems, and Gordon would realise the ugliness of +his own misgivings when set beside the noble idealism of art. Ferrers +was not a preacher; he never lectured anyone. He believed in setting +boys high ideals. "We needs must love the highest when we see it." And +during these months his influence on Gordon was tremendous. + +Then, when the long evenings came, with Morcombe sitting in the games +study, his face flushed with the glow of the leaping fire, talking of +Keats and Shelley, himself a poem, Gordon used to wonder how he could +ever have wished to dabble in ugly things, out of his cowardice to face +the truth. Those evenings were, in fact, the brightest of his Fernhurst +days; their happiness was unsubstantial, inexplicable, incomprehensible, +but none the less a real happiness. + +They vanished, however; and the day would begin again, with the lonely +hours of morning school, when Gordon realised once more the emptiness +of his position, and how hopelessly he had failed to do any of the +things he had set out to do. + + * * * * * + +The state of affairs was summed up by Archie Fletcher in the last week +of the Christmas term. + +"This place is simply ghastly, all the best fellows have gone," he said. +"Next term we shall have Rudd head of the House. All the young masters +have gone, and we are left with fossils, fretting because they are too +old to fight, and making our lives unbearable because we are too young. +As soon as I am old enough I mean to go and fight; but I can't stick the +way these masters croak away about the trenches all day long. If you +play badly at rugger you are asked what use you will be in a regiment. +If your French prose is full of howlers, you are told that slackers +aren't wanted in the trenches. Damn it all, we know that all these +O.F.'s who are now fighting in France slacked at work and cribbed; and +they weren't all in the Fifteen. And splendid men they are, too. +Fernhurst isn't what it was. Last term we had a top-hole set of chaps, +and I loved Fernhurst, but I am not going to stick here now. I am going +back home till I am eighteen. Then I'll go and fight. This is no place +for me." + +It was the requiem of all "the old dreams"; and Gordon knew it for his +own as well. + +During the Christmas holidays Gordon tried to forget as far as possible +Fernhurst, and all that Fernhurst stood for. More and more he found +himself turning for consolation to the poets; but now it was to +different poets that he turned. The battle-cry of Byron, the rebel flag +of Swinburne lost their hold over him. He himself was so entangled in +strife that he wanted soothing companions. In the poetry of Ernest +Dowson he read something of his own failure to realise the things he had +hoped for. _Endymion_, rolling like a stream through valleys and wooden +plains, carried him outside the hoarse babble of voices; _Comus_ lulled +him into a temporary security with its abundance of perfect imagery. He +discovered The Poetry Bookshop in Devonshire Street and went there for +the evening readings. There was a perfect serenity in the small room at +the top of the wooden stairs, with the dark blue curtains, the intent +faces, the dim, shaded lights, the low voice reading. He wished that +thus, in some monastic retreat, he might spend his whole life in a world +of dreams and illusions. But he realised that the hold of life was too +strong on him. At the same time he loved and hated the blare of +trumpets, the stretching plain, the spears glimmering in the sun. He had +sought for power and position; yet when they were won he despised them. +The future was impenetrable. But he returned for the Easter term +determined to do his duty by the House, however much he might disappoint +himself. + +On the very first day of the term "the Bull" called him up. + +"You remember," he began, "there was some talk last year about altering +the conditions of the Three Cock. I think it would be much better in +every way if we could come to some arrangement by which you should play +against two houses instead of three. Conditions are so very changed. +When the match was started you had ninety boys and each outhouse had +thirty. Now you have under seventy and each outhouse over thirty-five. +It is ten years now since you won, and it is a pity it is not more of a +game. Your men can't enjoy it, and I know mine don't. What do you +think?" + +"I think we would all rather go on as we are at present, sir." + +"But don't you see how hard it is for you ever to win?" + +"Yes, sir; and it is also rather hard for us to accept charity." + +"Of course, I can't force anything on you. It is a matter for you to +decide. But it does seem a pity to make a match like the Three Cock a +permanent farce, merely because you are too proud to see that you can't +take on the whole school. We'll discuss the matter at the end of the +term again." + +When the House learnt of this interview it raged furiously. + +"Confounded insolence calling it a farce," said Foster. "And, after all, +we stand a chance of winning. Heavens! we will boot them to blazes." + +Everyone in the School House considered the idea of a change +preposterous. Gordon alone realised that the present was an impossible +state of affairs. Sixty-four against a hundred and twenty! They couldn't +hope to win more than once in six years. He pointed this out to Morcombe +in second hall that evening. + +"As a matter of fact, if we win this year, I believe I shall go to 'the +Bull' and offer to change it." + +"But why?" said Morcombe. "There are times when I can't understand you, +and this is one of them. Surely, if we win, it is a proof that we are +good enough to go on playing! Why stop then?" + +"Because, if we did win, it would be only once in a way. And I can't +bear to think of our giving in after a beating by seventy points. It is +an anti-climax. I would much rather lay down our privilege willingly. +That's why I admire Sulla so much. At the very height of his power he +laid it down, and went into a glorious retirement. His is the most +dramatic exit in history. I should like the House to do that. We have +taken on too big a thing. We have got to give in sooner or later." + +"Perhaps so," said Morcombe; "and I suppose 'the Bull' thinks you are +thoroughly conceited and proud." + +"I believe so," said Gordon. "But let us talk about something else." + + * * * * * + +As a whole the Easter term began far more satisfactorily than the +Christmas term had ended. + +There were no "uppers." House captains ran everything. Morgan had been +promoted into the Lower Sixth, and Gordon found him a most entertaining +person. Naturally clever and naturally indolent, Morgan's work presented +a strange contrast. He and Gordon would settle down to prepare +_OEdipus Tyrannus_ for Finnemore. They would begin lethargically. +After ten lines Morgan would ask whether they had done enough; Gordon +would fling a book at his head; somehow or other they would slop through +thirty lines. Then Morgan would shut his book, and refuse to do any +more. + +"Thirty lines is enough for Finnemore, and, besides, I feel rather slack +to-night." + +Gordon did not take the trouble to point out that the same feeling of +slackness overcame him every night. + +They would both pull up their chairs in front of the fire, and waste the +rest of hall talking. The next morning, however, Gordon would discover +that the lines they had prepared the night before conveyed no meaning to +him at all. He would curse Morgan, and then go up to the library, rout +out Jebbs' translation, and prepare the Greek. Then he would move across +to school with the contented feeling of work well done. + +Morgan would be put on to con. Gordon would wait, laughing to himself. +He was sure Morgan would make an awful mess of things. But somehow or +other Morgan always managed to translate it correctly, if not stylishly. + +"Morgan, you did that again when I wasn't there," Gordon would say +afterwards. + +"Oh no; we prepared it pretty well last night for a change." + +After a while Gordon got used to this apparent miracle; but he himself +had invariably to consult the English authority. He did not tell Morgan +that. The climax was reached when Finnemore, who liked Gordon and +thought him rather clever, wrote in Morgan's report: "He relies rather +too much on Caruther's help for his Sophocles translation." It was an +interpretation that had occurred to neither. + + + + +CHAPTER IV: THE DAWN OF NOTHING + + +Slowly the Easter term moved on. As the days went by the sense of +failure, which had overhung everything Gordon had done the term before, +returned with an increased poignancy. The Thirds ended in a defeat which +was rendered no more pleasant by the fact that it was inevitable. No one +expected the House to win. The defeat was no reflection on Gordon's +leadership. The Chief, in fact, said to him: "We were much too small a +side, Caruthers, but I think we put up a plucky fight. You haven't +anything to grumble at. We did much better than I expected." + +But Gordon was always too prone to judge by results. He contrasted the +game with last year's triumphs, and with the glorious defeat of the +year before, which had brought more honour than many victories. It was +very different from what he had hoped for. There would not be much to +remember his captaincy by. + +One morning towards the middle of February he was glancing down the +casualty list, when he saw Jeffries's name among those killed. He put +the paper down, and walked very quietly across to his study. Jeffries +was well out of it, perhaps; but still Gordon wished he could have seen +him once more. That last terrible scene in Study 16 rose before his +eyes. He could almost hear the bang of the Chief's door. And now +Jeffries was dead; and no one would care. A master, perhaps, might +notice his name and say: "Just as well; he would have made a mess of his +life." They had never known Jeffries. + +"You look rather upset this morning," murmured Morgan from a corner of +the room. Gordon had not noticed him. + +"I am rather; a chap who had a study with me ... Jeffries ... he is in +the casualty list this morning." + +"A.R. Jeffries?" + +"Yes. But you didn't know him, did you?" + +"Oh no; but I saw his photo in a winning Thirds group." + +"Yes, that would be him. He was a fine forward." + +Gordon was glad to think that that was what his friend was remembered +for. Only the good remained. It was as Jeffries would have wished.... + +The Two Cock drew near. There had been a good chance of winning once, +but influenza had played havoc with the side. Gordon told them they were +going to win, encouraged them, presented a smiling face, but his heart +was heavy. He saw another cup going to join the silver regiment on the +Buller's sideboard. He had never found life quite so hard before; only +Morgan's unshatterable optimism, Ferrer's volcanic energy, and his own +friendship for Morcombe made things bearable at all. And yet he had all +the things he had once wanted. Now Betteridge had left, he was +indisputably the big man in the House. Rudd was a broken reed. At last +he began to see that the mere trappings of power might deceive the +world, but not their wearer. + +A week before the Two Cock Tester paid an unexpected week-end visit. He +was full of vitality and exuberance. He was just the same, debonair, +light-hearted, thoroughly happy. Everyone was pleased to see him; he was +pleased to see everyone. He was almost hilarious. But as Gordon watched +him carefully, his mirth seemed like that of Byron in _Don Juan_, +laughter through his tears. The others did not notice, because they had +never known Tester. + +Just after prayers he met Tester on his way back from supper with the +Chief. + +"Hullo! I have been looking for you," he said; "come for a stroll round +the courts." + +"Well," said Tester, as soon as they were out of earshot, "what do you +make of it?" + +"Pretty awful." + +"Yes, I suppose you have seen a good many ideals go tumbling down. All +our generation has been sacrificed; of course it is inevitable. But it +is rather hard. The older men have seen some of their hopes realised; we +shall see none. I don't know when this war will end; not just yet, I +think. But whenever it does, just as far as we are concerned the days of +roses will be over. For the time being art and literature are dead. Look +at the rotten stuff that's being written to-day. At the beginning we +were deceived by the tinsel of war; Romance dies hard. But we know now. +We've done with fairy tales. There is nothing glorious in war, no good +can come of it. It's bloody, utterly bloody. I know it's inevitable, but +that's no excuse. So are rape, theft, murder. It's a bloody business. +Oh, Caruthers, my boy, the world will be jolly Philistine the next few +years. Commercialism will be made a god." + +"Do you mean there is going to be nothing for us after the war?" said +Gordon. + +"Not for you or me; for the masses, perhaps. No one can go through this +without having his senses dulled, his individuality knocked out of him. +It will take at least twenty years to recover what we have lost, and +there won't be much fire left in you and me by then. Oh, I can tell you +I am frightened of what's coming after. I can't face it. Of course there +may be a great revival some day. Do you remember what Rupert Brooke +said in _Second Best_ about there waiting for the 'great unborn some +white tremendous daybreak'? That's what may happen. But our generation +will have been sacrificed for it. I suppose we should not grumble. But +we only live once. Do you remember that day of the Radley match, and +what I said about Oxford? I longed for Oxford. I wanted to begin life +over again, to sweep out the past. I was beginning to realise what +beauty meant. And then down comes the war. And I don't suppose I shall +ever have a chance now. I don't know whether there is an after life or +not, but if there is, I shall cut a pretty sorry figure, if there is +going to be a judgment. Well, it is my own fault. I put things off too +late. But I should have been a different chap, I think, if----" + +Foster's voice rang out across the night: + +"Come on, you two. What are you doing out there? The coffee's boiling +over. Buck up." + +"Right you are." + +In a second Tester had resumed his old pose of indifference. He played +his part through thoroughly; no one, as he danced with Collins up and +down the narrow study, would have associated him with the despairing +philosopher of a few moments ago. Gordon looked at him in amazement. +What a consummate actor he was! How successfully he kept his true +character to himself. + +Early on the Sunday morning he went back to his regiment. Gordon walked +down to the station with him. + +"I am going to the front in about a week, you know," said Tester, as +they were standing on the platform. + +"Good Lord! man, why didn't you tell us before?" + +"Oh, I don't know. I didn't want them all unburdening themselves to +me.... Here's the train. Well, good-bye, Caruthers. Good luck." + +"Thanks awfully; and mind you come back all right." + +Tester smiled at him rather sadly. + +"I am not coming back," he said. + + * * * * * + +The Two Cock came and went. The score was not very high against the +House. But it was a poor game. The school deserved to win, because they +played less badly than the House. But there was very little life in the +game. This may have been due to a heavy field day two days before; but +whatever it was, the result was pitiable. Gordon had almost ceased to +expect anything. Day followed day. Everyone was discontented; even +Ferrers began to doubt whether the war was having such a good effect on +the Public Schools after all. He said as much in an article in _The +Country_. He was always saying things in _The Country_. It was his +clearing ground. + +The Three Cock drew near. And each day Gordon began to think the House +less likely to win. He had watched the outhouses play, and knew how good +they were. One afternoon the Buller's captain challenged the House to a +friendly game. A very hard game resulted in a draw. There was nothing to +choose between the sides. And in the Three Cock Buller's would have +Claremont's and Rogers's to help them. + +There were discussions in the House as to whether the score would be +kept under twenty. Someone suggested it would have been a much better +game if they had accepted "the Bull's" offer of playing two houses +instead of three. When the day came the outhouse bloods were confidently +laying three to one on their chances of running up a score of over +thirty. + +As Gordon sat in his study after lunch, before going down to change, he +found it hard to believe that this was actually the day that he and his +friends had looked forward to for so long. It was to have marked the +start of a new era of School House greatness. It was to have been the +beginning of the new epoch. With a slightly cynical smile he compared it +with the way in which the Germans had toasted "Der Tag!" Both results +would be much the same. Lethargically he got up, put a coal or two on +the fire, and went down to change. + +The game followed much the same course that other Three Cocks had +followed during the last four years. For the first half the House did +fairly well, and kept the score down to thirteen to nil. Collins played +magnificently; Morgan was in form; Gordon himself was not conspicuous. +Then came the second half, when the light School House pack grew tired, +and was pushed about all over the field. The cheering of tries grew +desultory, and unenthusiastic. The final score was forty-seven to nil. + +"You know, Caruthers," said Collins on the way up from the field, "we +should have done better to have only taken on two houses." + +"Yes," said Gordon shortly. + +As soon as he had changed, he went over to "the Bull's" study. He had +already decided that it would be better to alter the condition of the +match once and for all. It meant to him the complete failure of all his +plans. He had set out to lead the House to victory. In the end not only +had he retired, he had actually surrendered. + +"The Bull" received him kindly. + +"Ah, come round about the match, Caruthers?" + +"Yes, sir. I think we had better play a Two Cock in future. Three houses +are a good deal more than we can take on." + +"Well, of course, I had seen that all along," said "the Bull." "It _is_ +too much. The conditions are so changed. Of course, we can't do this +without the consent of the Games Committee. I think we had better have a +meeting to-morrow afternoon. You might tell the others, will you?" + +On the next day after lunch the Games Committee met in "the Bull's" +study. "The Bull" stood with his back to the fireplace. + +"As you know, I have called you here this afternoon about the Three +Cock. Of course conditions have so changed that it would be no +reflection on the School House----" + +"The Bull" went on. Gordon sat forward on the sofa listening +subconsciously. Scenes rose before his mind. Of Mansell two years back, +after Richard's Thirds, saying: "Wait till 1915." Of Hazelton in the +dormitory saying: "Our day's coming, and you'll see it, Caruthers." +Everyone had expected this year to a triumph. And here he was signing +the death warrant of School House football. + +"The Bull" had finished speaking.... A resolution was passed.... + +"It is a lovely day," said "the Bull," "and I don't want to keep you in. +I expect you all want to be out doing something." + +Gordon got out of the study somehow or other. + +One of the Games Committee came up to him. + +"Jolly good idea of 'the Bull's,' I think. It was much too big a job for +you. Much better arrangement." + +"Oh, much." + +Gordon went back to the old games study, the very walls of which seemed +eloquent with voices of the dead. The rest of the House had gone for a +run. He was all alone. His head fell forward on his hands. The captaincy +he had tried so hard to gain had ended in pitiable failure. It was the +desolation, the utter desolation!... + +Of all that he had worked for during those four years nothing remained, +nothing. + +And as Gordon's mind dwelt on this the love of the monastic life which +had so overwhelmed him the holidays before swept over him again with +renewed vigour. In the Roman Church at any rate was there not something +permanent? _Quod semper, quod ubique, quod ab omnibus...._ That boast +was surely not in vain. He longed to surrender himself completely, to +fling away his own aims and inclinations, and abandon himself to a life +of quiet devotion safe from the world. It was the natural reaction. He +had been tossed on the waters of trouble and had grown weary of strife. +In Plato's _Republic_ Ulysses asked for the life of a private individual +free from care. "After battle sleep is best. After noise, tranquillity." +Dowson's exquisite lines on the _Nuns of the Perpetual Adoration_ came +back to him: + + "_They saw the glory of the world displayed,_ + _They saw the bitter of it and the sweet._ + _They knew the roses of the world would fade_ + _And be trod under by the hurrying feet._ + _Therefore they rather put away desire...._" + +That was what he wanted, to merge himself into the great silent poetry +of the Catholic life. The Protestant creed could never give him what he +wanted. There was too much tolerance, too much sheltering of the +individuality; he wanted a complete, an utter surrender. He passed the +entire holidays in the world of ideas; he read nothing but poetry, or +what dealt with poetry. He tried to recapture the wonderful +full-blooded enjoyment of that last summer term. But for all that he +found material thoughts stealing in on his most sacred moments. A chance +phrase, a word even, and there would suddenly rise before him the +spectre of his own failure. And he was forced to realise that as yet he +was unfit to lay down the imperious burden of his own personality. The +hold of life was too strong. He still wanted the praise of the populace, +"the triumph and the roses and the wine." + +Well, there was one more term; let him make the most of the roses while +he could. In this state of indecision he returned for what was to be his +last term. + + * * * * * + +A big programme of First Eleven matches had been arranged; and the first +game was at Downside on the second Saturday of the term. Fernhurst won +with ease, and Gordon knocked up forty-two. The match was over before +tea; and, as the side had not to go back till six o'clock, they spent +the interval in walking round the grounds. + +Few schools are situated in more perfect surroundings than Downside. +There are wide gardens and flowery walks. Rhododendrons were flaming red +and white, a hedge of gorse shone gold. It was a Roman Catholic school, +and now and then a noble Calvary rose out of the flowers. The Abbey +watched over the place. Monks in long black robes moved about slowly, +magisterially. Gordon went up to one of them and spoke to him shyly. + +"A wonderful place this, sir." + +"Yes; it is the right sort of place to train a boy in. Surround him with +beautiful things, make a real perception of beauty the beacon light of +his life, when he is young, and he will be safe. For there are so many +things that are beautiful and poisonous like iridescent fungi, and it is +so hard to differentiate between the true and the false. But everything +here is so pure and unworldly that I think we manage to show our boys +what is the highest. We fail at times, but on the whole we succeed." + +He looked so kind, so sympathetic, this old man, that Gordon felt bound +to pour out his feelings to him. + +"You know, sir," he said, "I have awfully wanted to talk to a Roman +Catholic whom I thought would understand me, and especially one like +yourself, who has willingly abandoned all his own ambitions. There is +something very fine in the complete surrender of your Church. In ours +there is so much room for difference of opinion, so much toleration of +various doctrines. There seems so little certainty. In Rome there seems +no doubt at all." + +"Yes, the Catholic Faith is a very beautiful creed," said the old man; +"we are misjudged; we are called narrow-minded and bigoted. They say we +want to make everyone conform to one type, and that we bind them with +chains. But, my son, it is not with chains that the Holy Church binds +her children. It is with loving arms thrown round them. The Church loves +her children far too much to wish them to leave her even for a minute. +She wants them entirely, hers and hers alone. Perhaps you will say that +is selfish; but I do not think so. It is the great far-seeing love that +sees what is best for its own. Love is nearly always right. But if you +wish to keep your own views, to worship God in your own way, well, there +are other creeds. Protestantism, it seems to me, lets out its followers, +as it were, on strings and lets them wander about a little, laugh and +pluck flowers, in the certainty that at the last she can draw her own to +her. Well, that is one way of serving God, and in the Kingdom of God +there is no right or wrong way, provided the service be sincere. There +are many roads to heaven. Our road is one of an infinite love that draws +everything to itself. There are other ways; but that is ours." + +"But supposing there was a person," said Gordon, "who really wanted to +surrender himself to that perfect love, but who found the call of the +world too strong. You know, sir, I should give anything to be as you, +safe and secure. But I know I should break away; the world would call me +again. I should return, but when I give myself, I want to give myself +wholly, unconditionally. I want there to be no doubt; and I want to come +to-day." + +"I will tell you a story," said the monk. "I was a boy here years ago, +and there was one boy, brilliant at games and work, whom I admired very +much, and by the time I had myself reached a high position he came back +to us as a monk. I used to live in a little village, just behind that +hill, and I used to ask him down to supper sometimes. And I remember one +day my father said to him: 'You know, I envy you a lot.' + +"'Why?' he asked. + +"'Well,' said my father, 'as far as this world is concerned you are well +provided for. You live in beautiful surroundings, comfortable and happy. +And for the next world, as far as we know, no one could be more certain +of happiness than you.' + +"The young monk looked at my father rather curiously, and said: + +"'Perhaps so; but when I look round at your happy little family and your +home interests, I think we have given up a good deal.' + +"And only a year later that young man ran away with a girl in the +village, and he was excommunicated from the Church. And yet I expect +that the whole time he really loved our life best; only the call of +worldly things was too strong; and he was too weak." + +"Then what will be the end of me?" asked Gordon. + +"Wait, my son. I waited a long time before I knew for certain that God's +way was best, and that the things men worshipped were vain. Those are +the most fortunate, perhaps, who can see the truth at once, and go out +into the world spreading the truth by the influence of a blameless life. +But we are not all so strong as that. It takes a long time for us to be +quite certain; and even then we have to come and shut ourselves away +from the world. We are too weak. But we have our place. And in the end +you, too, I expect, will so probe the happiness and grief of the world +and find them of little value, and when you have, you will find the Holy +Church waiting for you. It does not matter when or how you come; only +you must bring yourself wholly. It is not so very much we ask of you. +And we give with so infinite a prodigality." + +"Yes," said Gordon, "I suppose there will be rest at last." + +That evening as he sat discussing the cricket match with Morgan the +captain of the school came in and gave him his "Firsts." Morgan was +profuse with congratulations. Everyone seemed pleased. It was the hour +he had long pictured in his imagination--the hour when he should get +his coveted "Firsts." He himself had wanted them so badly; but somehow +or other they did not mean very much just now. + + + + +CHAPTER V: THE THINGS THAT SEEM + + +But the heart of youth is essentially fickle; and Gordon's lambent +spirit, which had for some time almost ceased to strive for anything, +suddenly swept round to the other extreme, and was filled with the +desire to reassert itself at all costs. Suddenly, almost without +realising it, Gordon was fired with the wish to finish his school career +strongly, not to give way before adversity, but to end as he had begun. +He would be the Ulysses of Tennyson, not of Plato. "Though much is +taken, much abides ... 'tis not too late to seek a newer world." ... +Like a tiger he looked round, growling for his prey, and his opportunity +was not slow in coming. + +Ferrers was sitting in his study one afternoon, talking very +despondently about the general atmosphere at Fernhurst. + +"It is not what I had hoped for," he said; "in fact, it is quite the +reverse. The young masters are gone, the bloods are gone. The new +leaders are not sure of their feet, and these old pedants have taken +their chance of getting back their old power. And the whole school is +discontented, fed up; no keenness anywhere. The masters tell them: 'If +you aren't good at games you'll be useless in the trenches.' Wretched +boys begin to believe them. They think they are wrong, when really they +are just beginning to see the light. They are beginning to look at games +as they are. There's no glory attached to them now--no true +victories--glamour is all removed. They see games as they are, see the +things they have been worshipping all these years. But the masters tell +them games are right, they are wrong; it is their duty to do as others +did before them. Oh, I wish we could smash those cracked red spectacles +through which every Public School boy is forced to look at life." + +"But can't we, sir?" + +"It would be no good; they wouldn't believe you. I am getting sick. For +years I have been shouting out, and trying to prove to them what's +wrong. They won't believe. They are blind, and it is the masters' fault, +curse them. There they sit, talking and doing nothing. I begin to +worship that man, I forget his name, who said: 'Those who can, do--those +who can't, teach.' It sums up our modern education. It is all hypocrisy +and show." + +"But, sir," said Gordon, "we can't do much, but let's do what we can. +Now, when the glamour has fallen off athleticism, let's show the school +what wretched things they have been serving so long. If we can in any +way put a check on this nonsense now, if in Fernhurst only, we shall be +doing something. After the war we shall have a fine Fifteen winning +matches, and the school will feel its feet. We must stop it now--now, +when there is no glamour, when the school is tired of endless 'uppers,' +and sick of the whole business. Now's the time." + +"Yes; but how? This sort of thing doesn't happen in a night." + +"I know; but we can sow the seeds now. The Stoics is the thing. We can +have a debate on the 'Value of Athletics,' and, heavens! I bet the whole +House will vote against them. The House is sick of it all. We'll carry +the motion. We'll get the best men to speak. We'll give sound arguments. +Then we'll have formed a precedent. It will appear in the school +magazine that the Stoics, the representative society of Fernhurst +thought, has decided that the blind worship of games is harmful. It will +make the school think. It's a start, sir, it's a start." + +"You are right, Caruthers, you are right. We'll flutter the Philistine +dovecots." + +Gordon had not the slightest doubt about the success of the scheme. He +himself was at the very summit of his power. He had been making scores +for the Eleven out of all proportion to his skill; he was almost certain +for the batting cup. His influence was not to be discounted. He could +get the House to vote as he wanted; he was sure of it. He told +Davenport of the scheme, and he also was enthusiastic. + +"By Jove! that's excellent. It's about time the school realised that +caps and pots are not the alpha and omega of our existence." + +The air was full of the din of onset. + +Nearly the whole House attended the meeting, and the outhouses rolled up +in good numbers, more out of curiosity than anything else. They thought +the whole thing rather silly. There had been a debate more than two +years back on "whether games should be compulsory." Only six had voted +against compulsion. "The Bull" remembered this, and came to the debate, +strong in his faith in the past. He wanted to see this upstart Ferrers +squashed. + +Ferrers himself opened the discussion with typical exuberance. + +"How much longer," he finished, "are we going to waste our time, our +energy, our force on kicking a football? We have no strength for +anything else. And all the time, while Germany has been plotting against +us, piling up armaments, we have been cheering on Chelsea and West Ham +United. Look at the result. We were not prepared, we are only just +getting ready now. And why? Because we had wasted our time on trivial +things, instead of things that mattered; and unless we turn away from +all this truck, trash and cant about athleticism, England is not going +to stand for anything worth having." + +He sat down amid tempestuous applause. The audience were really excited. +They had gradually grown sick of games during the last two terms, and +now apparently they had the best authority for doing so. Everyone likes +being congratulated. + +The opposition suffered in having Burgess to support them. We have heard +of him before. Years had not altered him much. He was the same +conceited, self-righteous puppet as of old. People got tired of +listening to him. There was a sound of shuffling, a window began to bang +with unnecessary noise. He sat down to an apathetic recognition. + +Davenport then made a very biting speech against games. + +"The Bull" was surprised to see him speaking on Ferrer's side. He was +in the Second Fifteen, and a very useful outside. + +"Whatever we may have done before the war," he cried, "and we did many +foolish things, it is quite obvious that now this worship of sport must +cease. Let us hope it is not revived. We are sent here to be +educated--that is, to have our minds trained; instead of that, we have +our bodies developed, our minds starved. We play footer in the +afternoon, we have gym. at all hours of the day, and other experiments +in voluntary compulsion, such as puntabouts after breakfast. The result +is we work at our play, and play at our work...." He elaborated the +scheme in an amusing way. There was a lot of laughter. "The Bull" looked +fierce. Rudd, who had for a "rag" insisted on speaking for the +opposition, discoursed on the value of "_mens sana in corpore sano_." +Everyone shrieked with laughter. + +He finished up thus: + +"Well, look at me. I am the hardest-working fellow in the school." A +roar of laughter went up. Rudd had nearly been deprived of his position +of school prefect for doing so little work. "I am also a fine athlete. +To-day I clean bowled two people on the pick-up, and hit a splendid four +over short-slip's head. I am what I am because of our excellent system +of work and play. Look at me, I say, and vote for athleticism." + +Buffoonery is often more powerful than the truest oratory. + +The motion was put before the House. + +A lot of people spoke. All in favour of the motion. It was great fun +watching "the Bull's" face grow gradually darker. Morgan said that only +fools and Philistines cared for games. They were amusing to pass an +afternoon with, and because one had to have exercise, but that was all. + +Gordon waited till near the end, then he got up. + +"I must first congratulate everyone on the broadminded view they have +taken of this important question; and I think it is an infallible proof +that the days of athletic domination are ended. For, after all, is it +any wonder that clear-thinking men like A.C. Benson pull our system to +pieces, when we have to own that for the last twenty years at least the +only thing Public School boys have cared about is games? And with such +a belief they go out into life, to find the important posts seized by +men who have really worked. No one works at a Public School. People who +do are despised. If they happen to be good at games as well, they are +tolerated. It is a condemnation of the whole system. And, after all, +what are games? Merely a form of exercise; we have got to keep our +bodies healthy, because, as Mr Rudd so wisely put it, a healthy mind +means a healthy body. Games were invented because people wanted to enjoy +their exercise. We all enjoy games. I love cricket; but that does not +make me worship it. I like eating; but I don't make a god of a chocolate +eclair. We can like a thing without bowing down to it, and that's how we +have got to treat games. Some fool said 'the battle of Waterloo was won +on the playing fields of Eton'; and a fool he was, too. Games don't win +battles, but brains do, and brains aren't trained on the footer field. +It is time we realised that; and I think from the way the speaking has +gone to-night, the school is beginning to understand. Now is the chance +to show that you think so. There are no good athletes in the school +to-day, the Eleven's rotten and the Fifteen is worse. Men like Lovelace +major _were_ almost worth worshipping, because they were men; they made +athletics appear grand, because they were such glorious creatures +themselves; but there are none of that sort here now. We can see games +as they really are without any false mist of sentiment, and we can see +that for years we have been worshipping something utterly wrong." + +Gordon's speech really made an impression. After all, he was a blood, +one of the best all-round athletes in the school, and if he thought like +that, there must be something in what so many people were saying. + +The question was put to the vote, and was carried by an enormous +majority. + +"The Bull" looked for a moment at the crowd of faces that had spurned +the things he admired, looked as one who saw nothing, turned on his heel +and strode out of the room. + +"Well, we won! Glorious!" said Ferrers. + +"Yes," said Gordon, "'we have lit this day a candle that, by the grace +of God, shall never be put out'!" + +He went down to hall, flushed with triumph. After all, there were some +compensations for everything; but he could not remove the feeling that +out of all the change and turmoil of his Fernhurst career he had +retained nothing tangible. He had written his name upon water; he had as +yet found nothing that would accompany him to the end of his journey. He +knew that his friendship for Morcombe would lead to nothing: very few +school friendships last more than a year or so after one or other has +left. He thought of Byron's line: "And friendships were formed too +romantic to last." It was too true, he had yet to find his real ideal. +He was about to begin the serious battle of life. He was standing on the +threshold. The night was black before him; he had no beacon fire to lead +him. He dimly perceived that beauty was the goal to which he was +striving. But he had only a vague comprehension of its meaning. He had +no philosophy. Doubtless in the end the Roman Church, the mother of +wanderers, would take him to her breast. But that was a long way off +yet, and he wished to bring himself to the final surrender, strong and +clean-hearted, not a vessel broken on the back-wash of existence. And +yet he had no true guide for the years that stretched before him. This +last episode of the debate seemed to bring it home to him more clearly. +His life had so far been composed of isolated triumphs and isolated +defeats, which had not yet so combined one with another as to form a +bedrock of experience which would serve as a standard for future +judgments. He had made merry, careless of what the next day would bring. +He had fought with "the Bull"; and in the struggle he had achieved some +things, and failed to achieve more. He had at one time prayed for the +long contention to cease; at another he had laughed in the face of his +enemy, flushed with the joy of battle. Gazing back on his past, he +seemed to stand as a spectator, watching a person who was himself and +yet not himself, going through a life of many varied experiences, now +plunging in the mud, now soaring to the heights. But the incidents only +affected him in a dull, subconscious manner. He had learnt nothing from +them. His school days would soon be over, and yet he felt as though he +were beginning life all over again. He had found nothing that could +stand the wear of time and chance. + +But still there remained a few more weeks of Fernhurst; whatever +happened, he swore that he would finish as befitted a king. "Samson +would quit himself like Samson." There would be time enough for doubts +and introspection when it was all over, when for the last time the +familiar eight-forty swept him out of Fernhurst's life for ever. At +present it was his to leave behind him a name that would survive a +little while, "nor all glut the devouring grave." It should be +remembered of him that during his day of power he had never once given +way, had stood his ground, had never known the poignancy of the +"second-best." + +Until now Gordon had never really quarrelled with anyone in his own +house. All his encounters had been with outhouse men or "the Bull": he +might have helped to make the House feel independent of the school, but +he had always aimed at the unity of the House's aim. It was a pity that +his last contest should have been with the head of his own house. + +Rudd was a bad head; there could be no doubt about that. His dormitory +made him apple-pie beds, and soaked his candle in water, so that it +would not light. The day-room ragged him mercilessly. Gordon had never +minded. In comparison with Rudd's weakness his own strength shone the +more. It made him so essentially the big power in the House. But things +reached a limit shortly after half term, when Rudd tried to drag him in +to help him in his troubles, and shelter behind the rest of the +prefects. + +It all arose from a most "footling" source. Rudd was taking hall, and +the usual music hall performance was in full swing. Bray had asked to +borrow some ink, and having once gained a pretext for walking about, was +dancing up and down the floor singing _What would the Seaside be without +the Ladies?_ Everyone was, of course, talking. Now a certain Stockbrew, +imagining himself a poet, immortalised the occasion with the following +stirring lyric:-- + + "_Ruddy-doodle went to town_ + _In his little suit of brown,_ + _As he could not find his purse_ + _He cried aloud, 'Oh, where's my nurse?_'" + +Like the famous quatrain _The Purple Cow_, this poem immediately +achieved a success totally out of proportion to its merits. It was +passed slowly down the table. Finally it reached Bray. + +"Ah, Rudd," he said, "I believe this is meant for you." + +Rudd read it, and flushed a dusky red. + +"Who wrote this?" + +Proudly the author claimed his work. + +"Well--er--let me see," said Rudd: "it is er--gross impertinence. Come +and see me after breakfast to-morrow." + +The poet sat down, and his friends showered condolences on him; Bray +recommenced his wanderings. + +That night in second hall Rudd called a prefects' meeting to discuss the +affair. He pointed out that it was gross insolence to a prefect, and +that a prefects' beating was the recognised punishment for such an +offence. Gordon protested vehemently. + +"But, damn it all, Rudd, if you are such a weak-kneed ass as to be +ragged by a fool like Stockbrew, you jolly well oughtn't to be head of +the House. And, by the way, we haven't heard this masterpiece of satire +read out yet." + +"I don't think there's any need," said Rudd. + +"Well, I think there is," said Gordon. "I am not going to see a kid +beaten for an unknown piece of cheek. Read the thing out!" + +With many blushes Rudd read it out. + +"Ah, jolly suitable, too," said Foster. "What you want is a nurse. Good +lord, man, can't you look after yourself in hall. Jolly ignominious, +isn't it, having to call up a lot of prefects to back you up? Fine +example to the rest of the House, isn't it?" + +"Well," stammered Rudd, "I don't pretend to be a strong prefect." + +"You certainly aren't," said Foster. + +"That's beside the point," said Rudd. "I have been cheeked by Stockbrew, +and I am a prefect. The punishment for that is a prefects' beating. +There'll be a pre.'s meeting here to-morrow at eight, and if you have +anything to grouse about, go to the Chief." + +He flounced out of the room like a heroine of melodrama. + +"I don't think we'll go to Chief," said Gordon, "he would be utterly +fed up. But I am jolly well not going to be made an ass of by Rudd. +Think what fools we shall look trotting about on Rudd's apron strings +like policemen after a cook." + +"Well, what can we do?" said Davenport. + +"Do? Why, make Rudd look a bigger ass than we. We have got to give this +lad a pre.'s beating. There's no way out of it. We have got to. But if +we let the House know about this, a crowd will collect; Rudd will go +first and make two fairly effective shots. We shall then proceed in +rotation. We will just tap him; the crowd will roar with laughter; it +will be damned amusing, and Rudd will look a most sanguinary ass." + +"I see," said Foster. "Hat's off to the man with the brain." + +"But is it quite the game?" suggested Davenport, a stickler for +etiquette. + +"Is it the game for Rudd to drag us in to back him up? In this world, +unfortunately, two blacks invariably make a white." + +"I suppose it's all right," said Davenport. + +No one else made any objection. Foster and Gordon usually got their own +way. The prefects dispersed. Gordon went to tell Morgan the glad +tidings. The news was all round the House in a few minutes. Rudd was +generally regarded as a priceless fool; it was sure to be good sport. + +Then next morning Stockbrew presented himself at Rudd's study. He was +terribly overcome at the sight of so formidable a gathering. He wished +he had padded. No one had told him of what was to happen. It would have +spoilt the situation. + +The prefects sat in chairs round the room; Rudd, terribly nervous, was +perched on the table. He delivered as short a lecture as possible on the +sacredness of the prefectorial dignity and the insignificance of the +day-room frequenter. + +In a procession they moved to the V. A green. Stockbrew led, Rudd +followed, cane in hand. It was all very impressive. Round the V. A green +runs a stone path; a good many people were clustered there; there were +faces in the V. B class-room just opposite; in the library on the right; +even in the Sixth Form class-room on the left. + +"Quite an audience for this degrading business," sighed Foster. + +"'Butchered to make a Roman holiday,'" said Davenport, who loved a stale +quotation. Stockbrew bent over the chain that ran round two sides of the +green. Rudd delivered two fairly accurate shots. Stockbrew stirred +uncomfortably. He had dim recollections of Claremont reading a poem by +Mrs Browning on "the great God Pan" and how cruel it was to "make a poet +out of a man!" He saw her meaning now. Then the farce began. + +Gordon went up, carefully arranged the victim's coat, stepped back as if +preparing a brutal assault, and then flicked him twice. A roar of +laughter broke from all sides. Rudd shifted uneasily on his feet. + +Foster went up and did the same, then Davenport, then the rest of the +prefects. The very walls seemed shrieking with laughter. + +Flushing dark red, Rudd strode across to his study. Such dignity as he +had ever had, had been taken from him. Everyone had seen his ignominy. + +The next time he took hall a pandemonium broke out such as never had +been heard before. A game of cricket was played with a tennis ball and a +Liddell and Scott; Gordon crossing the courts heard it, and he decided +to clinch his victory. He went down to the day-room and walked straight +in. There was instant silence. Gordon took no notice of Rudd whatever. + +"Look here, you men, you are making a filthy row down here. I heard it +right across the courts. The Chief might hear it easily. You have got to +shut up. If I hear any more noise I shall give every man two hundred +lines; so shut up." + +There was comparative peace after this. Rudd had ceased to count in +House politics. To all intents and purposes Gordon was head of the +House, and the House regarded him as such. Rudd was generally known as +the "nominal head." Gordon had got his power, and for the next six weeks +he decided to enjoy it to the full. On the cricket field, although not +quite keeping to the promise or the luck of May, he did well enough to +make the batting cup quite certain. There was now no fear of any defeat +clouding his last days. He had ceased to worry himself with analysing +his emotions. He let himself enjoy the hour of happiness while he still +had it, and did not trouble to question himself how long it would last. +He had passed through the time of blind depression during the Easter +term when he had seen hope after hope go down: he had come through +somehow. It did not matter with what inward searchings of heart. +Outwardly he had been a success. Now his outward triumph was even more +pronounced. As a few weeks before he had been too prone to look at the +inward to the total exclusion of the outward aspect of things, now he +began to consider only the things that seem. It was the swing of the +pendulum. It remained for him to find the _media via_. + + * * * * * + +The last days of June and the early weeks of July passed calmly. In the +mornings he lounged in his study, reading novels, or talking to Morgan. +The afternoons went by like a cavalcade, with the white figures on the +cricket ground, the drowsy atmosphere of the pavilion, the shadows +lengthening across the ground. Then the evenings came, with Morcombe +sitting in his study getting helped in his work, or talking about books +and people and ideas. The House matches began. A-K senior had an average +side, but no one expected them to do very much, and it was a surprise +when, by beating Christy's and Claremont's, they qualified to meet an +exceptionally strong Buller's side in the final. Foster and Gordon +looked forward to their last match at Fernhurst with the cheerful +knowledge that they had no chance of winning, and that therefore they +had nothing to fear of disappointment. It would be a jolly friendly game +to finish up with. The days raced past so quickly that it came as a +shock to Gordon to discover that his last week, with its examinations +and threatening form lists, had really come. + +"I shall be sorry to leave, you know," he said to Foster. "I am not at +all looking forward to the army." + +"Last Christmas I would have given anything to get out of this place," +Foster answered. "But now, my Lord; I wish I was coming back. We've had +a good time this term." + +The first three days of that last week it rained incessantly. The +Senior final was postponed till the Thursday. Examinations took their +desultory course. Gordon had often in the past slacked in exams, but +never had he treated them in quite the same indifferent way as he did +this term. He had no intention of spoiling his last days by working. +Every morning the Sixth went in for a three hours' paper, at +nine-thirty. Before eleven Gordon had always shown up his papers, and +strolled out of the room to read _Paradise Lost_ in his study. In the +afternoon he usually managed to toss off the two hours' exam. in three +quarters of an hour. + +He was "finishing in style." On Thursday the rain stopped at last, and +the Senior final began. + +"Foster," said Gordon, as the two walked down to the field, "I believe +ours is one of the very worst sides that ever got into the final. There +are two Firsts, you and I. Collins was tried for the Colts two years +ago. There are eight others." + +"Oh, you forget Bray, a fine, free bat with an unorthodox style. But ... +I believe he made fourteen on a House game the other day." + +"Yes, that is a recommendation, of course, but somehow I don't think we +shall win." + +"Win!" echoed Foster. "We shall be lucky if we avoid an innings defeat." + +And this supposition proved still more likely when half-an-hour later +the House, having won the toss, had lost three wickets for as many runs. +Jack Whitaker, now captain of Buller's, had gone on to bowl first from +the end nearest the National Schools. In his first over he clean bowled +Gordon, and in the next he got Foster leg before, and Bradford caught in +the slips. + +"I foresee," said Collins, "that we shall spend most of this game +fielding. A poor way of occupying our last few days." + +"That's where I score," said Gordon; "the wicket-keeper has no running +to do, and, besides, I rather enjoy a game in which there is nothing to +lose, no anxiety or anything. It is a peaceful end to a turgid +career.... Oh, well hit!" + +Bray had just lifted a length ball off the middle stump over short-leg's +head. + +"That's the sort of cricket I like," said Gordon; "a splendid contempt +for all laws and regulations. Heavens! there he goes again!" + +A lucky snick flew over the slips to the boundary. + +"This is something like," said Foster, and prepared to enjoy himself. + +And certainly Bray's cricket was entertaining. He treated every ball the +same; he stepped straight down the pitch with his left foot, raised his +bat in the direction of point and then, as the ball was bowled, he +pivoted himself violently on his left foot and, going through a complete +half-circle, finished, facing the wicket-keeper, with both feet outside +the crease, but his bat well over the line. The chief attraction of this +gymnastic feat was the unexpectedness of it all. No one knew where the +ball would go if it was hit. Once when he timed his shot a little late +he caught the ball just as it was passing him and drove it flying past +the wicket-keeper's head to where long-stop would have been. The +fielding side was always glad to see Bray's back, and it usually did not +have to wait long. But to-day he bore a charmed life. He was missed at +point once, twice he gave a chance of being stumped, the ball shaved his +wickets times innumerable. But nearly every other ball he managed to hit +somewhere. In the pavilion the School House rocked with laughter. + +At the other end Davenham poked about scoring singles here and there. +The score crept up. Amid cheers in which laughter was blended, the fifty +went up. Then Bray, in a particularly gallant effort to steer a ball +well outside the off stump round to short-leg, hit, all three wickets +flying out of the ground. It was a suitable end to an unusual innings. + +He received a royal welcome in the pavilion. + +"Bray, my son," said Gordon, "you are a sportsman. Come to the tuck-shop +and have a drink. Nellie, mix this gentleman an ice and a lemonade, and +put it down to my account. Thank you. Ah, there's Collins. Good luck, +Collins; keep your head." + +Two minutes later Collins returned to the pavilion with a downcast face. + +"The damned thing broke," he said, as if he considered breaks illegal in +House matches. + +The rest of the side played in the usual light-hearted School House +spirit. There were some fine hits made, and some scandalous ones, too. +It was like a cinematograph show. Everyone slammed about; the Buller's +men missed catches galore. Davenport was missed four times in making +fourteen. Somehow the score reached respectable heights. Byes helped +considerably. The final score was one hundred and twenty. + +"And now," said Collins, "we have got to field for two hours to-day. +To-morrow is not a half, so we shall have to field all the time; we +sha'n't get a knock till after roll on Saturday. Five hours' fielding. +Damn!" + +"And it will do you a lot of good, too," said Foster. "Are you all +ready, House? Come on then." + +A-K Senior filed out into the field. A loud cheer rose from the crowd. +The House was amazingly partisan. Whether a House side is losing by an +innings or winning by two hundred runs, it is always sure of the same +reception when it goes on to the field from its own men. The light had +grown rather bad and Foster began bowling with the trees at his back, so +as to hide his delivery. At the other end Bradford was to bowl. + +The start was sensational. + +Buller's sent in Crampin and Mitchell first, two hefty footballers, with +strong wrists and no science, who had run up some big scores in the +preliminary rounds. + +Foster ran up to bowl. Crampin had a terrific swipe. The ball turned +from the bat. The bat only just touched it. + +"How's that?" roared Gordon. + +The finger went up. A ripple of clapping ran along the side of the +ground. + +"You stick to that," said Collins, "and we shall get them out by +to-morrow night." + +"Dry up," said Gordon ironically. "Can't you see we are going to win?... +Man in!" + +Jack Whitaker came in. He was far and away the most stylish bat in the +school, and had scored a lot of runs during the season. He faced the +bowling confidently; he had played Foster a hundred times at the nets, +and knew his tricks well. He played through the over with ease. The last +ball he placed in front of short-leg for a single. + +Bradford went on to bowl. He was a House match class of bowler. No idea +of length, or direction, only an indefatigable energy and considerable +pace. His first ball was a long hop wide on the off. Whitaker banged it +past point for four. + +The next ball was a full pitch to leg. Collins had to run about a +hundred yards to rescue it from the road. Bradford looked fierce. He +took a longer run than usual, rushed up to the wicket, and plunged the +ball in with all his force. A howl of untuneful applause rose from under +the trees. The ball not only happened to be straight, but was also a +yorker. Whitaker's middle stump fell flat. + +There are times when a panic seizes the very best side, and for the next +hour and a half the House had the pleasant experience of watching an +unusually strong Buller side rabbit out before a very moderate attack. +Buller's side contained four First and two Second Eleven colours, to say +nothing of three Colts caps. And yet by six o'clock the whole team was +dismissed for eighty-three. There was nothing to account for the rot. +Foster and Bradford bowled unchanged. Bradford took six of the wickets, +four clean bowled. It was incomprehensible. + +"I can't understand it," said Gordon at tea. "Bradford was bowling the +most utter drivel half the time, I would have given anything to have +been batting. And you were not bowling at your best, you know, Foster." + +"I am well aware of that; but, heavens! it was sheer joy. Look at old +Collins, down there, beaming at the thought of not having to field +to-morrow." + +"It's all right," mumbled Collins from a huge cup of tea. + +"By Jove! wouldn't it be gorgeous if we could win this match, and finish +up by beating the Buller crowd at their own game?" said Gordon. "Damn it +all, I don't see why we shouldn't. What we have done once we can do +again. They are a better side, I know, but we'll have a damned good shot +at winning." + +Of course Buller's laughed at the whole thing. + +"It's really rather funny," they said. "But, of course, we are in +absolutely no danger of losing. We couldn't wreck like that again; and, +what's more, we shouldn't let an ass like Bray make so many runs again. +We are quite safe!" + +The School House kept quiet. They were not going to shout their hopes +all over the school. It would look so bad if they got thoroughly beaten +in the end. But in the studies and dormitories that night there was only +one thought in all those minds--that victory was possible. + +The next day it rained the whole time. The courts were flooded with +water, the branches dripped with a tired languor. Gordon polished off +two exams with masterly speed, and returned to his study. + +Saturday morning broke grey and wet. It rained spasmodically till +mid-day, and then cleared up. With a sigh of relief Gordon walked up the +big schoolroom to show up the last piece of work that he would do at +Fernhurst. For a last composition it was hardly creditable. A long paper +on the _OEdipus Tyrannus_ was finished in under an hour. But Gordon +had ceased to care for academic distinctions. As he closed the door of +the big school, and went out into the cloisters, he realised that a +certain stage of his journey was over and done with for ever. + +By lunch-time all signs of rain had cleared off, and the sun shone down +on an absolutely sodden ground. Runs would be very hard to get. A lead +of thirty-seven meant a lot on such a wicket. An atmosphere of nervous +expectation overhung the House. Everyone was glad when the meal was +over. + +The match began directly after lunch. There would be very likely some +difficulty in finishing the game that day. Collins and Foster went in +first. Gordon had asked to be kept back till later. The start was dull. +Foster was taking no risks, and Collins seemed unable to time the ball +at all, which was luckily always off the wicket. Ten went up after +quarter of an hour's play. + +And then Foster, reaching out to play forward, slipped on the wet grass +and was stumped. Three balls later Bradford was caught and bowled. It +was Gordon's turn to go in. Nearly everything depended on him. If he +failed, the whole side would probably collapse. The tail had done +miracles in the first innings; but it could not be expected to do the +same again. + +Gordon took guard nervously. He resolved to play himself in carefully, +but he never could resist the temptation to have a "go." The first ball +was well up, just outside the off stump. Gordon stepped across and let +fly. He had forgotten how slow the pitch was. The ball hung; he was much +too soon; the ball sailed straight up into the air! Point and +cover-point both ran for it. "Crampin!" yelled out Whitaker. Neither +heard; they crashed into one another; the ball fell with a dull thud. +The House gave a gasp of relief. + +It was a costly mistake. For when once he got his eye in, Gordon was +very hard to get out. And, moreover, he was one of the few people who +could get runs quickly on a really wet wicket, for the simple reason +that nearly all his shots went into the air; and so he did not find the +sodden ground making off drives which should have resulted in fours only +realise singles. + +That afternoon Gordon found the bowling perfectly simple. At the other +end wickets fell slowly, but he himself was scoring fast. A hard shot +over cover-point sent up his individual fifty, and two overs later he +drove a length ball on the off stump past mid on to the boundary, and +the hundred went up amid cheers. + +"It is a mystery to me," said Foster, "how that man Caruthers ever gets +a run at all; he has no defence, and hits straight across everything." + +"Don't let's worry about that," said Collins; "sufficient be it that he +is hitting these Buller's swine all over the place. Oh, good shot!" + +A half-volley had landed first bounce among the masters sitting under +the wall. The umpire signalled six. + +One hundred and fifty went up. + +And then Gordon mistimed a slow yorker, and was clean bowled for +eighty-five. + +He was received with a storm of clapping; the House lined up cheering as +he ran in between the ropes. + +"Gratters! Well done!" shouted Foster. "That's a damned fine knock to +finish your Fernhurst cricket days with! Well done!" + +Everyone came up and congratulated him. It was a proud moment, in some +ways the proudest of his whole career. + +A few minutes later another burst of clapping signalled the end of the +innings. The side had made one hundred and eighty-six. Buller's were +left with two hundred and twenty-three to win. Anything might happen. +Just before five Foster led the House on to the field. + +The next hour and a half was fraught with delirious happiness and +excitement. Foster bowled magnificently, Bradford managed to keep a +length; the whole side fielded splendidly. Wicket after wicket fell. +Victory became a certainty. Gloom descended over the Buller's side. +Round the pavilion infants with magenta hat ribbons yelled themselves +hoarse. It was one of those occasions in which eternity seems compressed +into an hour. Half-past six came. No one went up to tea, everyone was +waiting for the end. At last it came. Whitaker, who alone had been able +to withstand the School House attack, over-reached himself, Gordon +gathered the ball quickly, the bails flew off. The umpire's hand rose. A +wild shriek rose from the crowd. Gordon's last game at Fernhurst was +over; his last triumph had come; at last "Samson had quit himself like +Samson." Through the lines of shrieking juniors the team passed into the +pavilion. Gordon began to collect his things, to pack up his bag. He +gave it to a fag to carry up. + +Collins and Foster and Gordon walked up from the field arm in arm. + +"Well, if we stopped on here for a hundred years," said Foster, "we +shouldn't find a better hour to leave." + +"Yes, the end has made up for any disappointments on the way. It will be +a long time before we have as wonderful a time again," Gordon said, as +he passed in the sunset, for the last time, through the gate of the +cricket-field which had been, for him, the place of so many happy +hours. + + + + +CHAPTER VI: THE TAPESTRY COMPLETED + + +To Gordon this match seemed the ideal rounding off of his career. There +had been no anti-climax, with him the best had come at the end. He would +not have to look back and compare his last term unfavourably with the +glories of yester year. He had done what he set out to do, he would step +rose-garlanded out of the lighted room, in the flush of his success. It +was exactly as he had wished. Perfectly satisfied, he lay back in his +chair, with his feet on the table, too tired to do anything, merely +thinking. + +There was a knock at the door. + +"Come in." + +Rudd came in nervously with a House list in his hand. + +"The Chief wants a list of the trains people are going home by." + +"Eight-forty to Waterloo." + +"Thanks." + +Rudd walked towards the door, but as he put his hand on the knob he +turned round. + +"Well," he began falteringly, "I suppose you are jolly proud of yourself +now, aren't you?" + +"What the hell do you mean?" + +"You know quite well. You have done damned well according to your own +point of view. You have aimed at getting the supreme power, and you have +got it all right." Rudd had lost his nervousness now, he was shifting +his feet a little, but the sentences flowed easily. "I am a weak head, I +know, and you have managed to smash me quite easily. It wasn't very +hard, although you pretend you are the devil of a fellow." + +"What on earth are you driving at?" + +"Oh, not much; only I want to show you how much you have done for the +House. You are big, and you're strong, and all that; you've broken up +any authority I ever had, and you've taken it yourself. And, of course, +as long as you are here, it's all very well. But what about when you +have left? You are too self-centred to see anybody else's point of view. +_Apres moi le deluge_; that's your philosophy. As long as you yourself +prosper, you don't care a damn what happens to anyone else, and you have +prospered right enough. You'll have left a name behind you, all right." + +"I don't want to have to kick you out, Rudd," said Gordon. + +"I don't care what you say; I'm going to finish what I have got to say. +You'll probably not understand, you are too short-sighted. But what sort +of future have you left the House? Order was kept all right when you +were here; you are strong. But when you have left, who is going to take +your place? Foster could have, but he's leaving. Davenport's leaving +too, so's Collins. The new prefects will be weak. At the best they would +have had a hard time. But probably the prefectorial dignity would have +been sufficient, if you hadn't smashed it up. You say 'personality' must +rule, but there is not so much personality flying about. We weak men +have got to shelter ourselves behind the strength of a system, and you +have smashed that. No one is going to obey me next term. They know I am +incapable; but they wouldn't have found it out but for you. That's what +you've done this term. You yourself have succeeded, but your success has +meant the ruin of the House for at least a year, that's what you have +done. And I expect you are jolly proud of yourself, too. You only care +for yourself." + +Rudd finished exhausted, and stood there gasping. Gordon looked straight +at him for a second or so, then picked up a book and began to read; Rudd +shifted from foot to foot for a minute and then moved out quickly. + +What an ass the man was, thought Gordon. The beaten man always tries to +make the victor's defeat seem less. It is all he has to do. Damn it all, +a man has to look after himself in this world; everyone was struggling +to get to the top, and the weak had to be knocked out of the way. + +Then Foster came in aglow with excitement, and the two went up to the +tuck-shop and ate numerous ices, and made a great row, and knocked over +many chairs, and threw sugar about. Rudd was clean forgotten, as they +rolled back triumphantly, just as the roll bell was ringing. Work was +over. Gordon wandered round the studies, talking to everyone; in second +hall they had a celebration supper for the whole side. They had two +huge pies, a ham, countless eclairs; they sang songs, laughed and told +anecdotes. They finished with the school _Carmen_, and drank to the +House's future success. Laughing and singing, they at last made for the +dormitories. + +But when the lights went out, and silence descended on the dormitory, +Gordon began to think of his conversation with Rudd; and, as he thought, +there came over him again the fierce longing to get to the heart of +things and to see life as it was, shorn of its coverings. Looking at his +career from the spectator's point of view, even Christy would have to +own that it had been eminently successful. He had been captain of the +House; no one had blamed him that the House had failed to win their +matches; no one can make bricks without straw; what did matter was that +he had always stood up for the House's rights, he had never given way to +"the Bull," he had been strong. This last term he had been head of the +House in all but name; he had won the batting cup; and he had finished +by playing a big part in the biggest triumph that the House had achieved +for several years. In all outward aspects he had been a great success. + +But Gordon had had enough of outward aspects. He wanted to get to the +root of things, to get on terms of equality with life; he was tired of +seeing everything through flickering glass. What had he actually done? + +And when he began to sum up his achievements, he was forced to own that +most of them were athletic triumphs, and athletics meant little to him. +He had long ceased to worship them. Because a man could make a big score +in a House match, it did not mean that he was in any way fit for the +battle of life; and what else had he done? He had carried on guerrilla +warfare with "the Bull." It had never come to a real head; so little +does. Most things are left unaccomplished in the end; and what had he +gained by this contest, and what had been the use of it? "The Bull" was +one of the few really fine masters in the school. He was a man, and +towered above the puny pettiness of Rogers; he was the "noblest Roman of +them all," yet Gordon had spent a whole year fighting against a man whom +he at heart admired. It was, of course, the inevitable clash of two +egotisms; but that did not alter the facts. He had been wasting himself +fighting against a fine man, when there were so many rotten traditions +and useless customs that ought to be attacked; but he had let them +alone. The only abuse he had attacked was the worship of sport, and he +began to wonder whether it had been worth it. Might it not have been +better to have let the school go on believing in its gods a little +longer? He had broken down a false god, but had he given the School +anything to worship in its stead? Better a false god than no god at all. + +Rudd had been right. He had smashed through a garden of dandelions. He +had rooted up flowers and weeds indiscriminately. He had done nothing +wonderful; and he had left desolation behind him. Nothing would grow for +some time in the plot he had ruined. And yet he was "a great success," +the world said. + +"Only the superficial do not judge by appearances," Wilde had said, +mocking at society; and he had been right. Life was a sham, a mass of +muddled evolutions; the world was too slack to find out the truth, or +perhaps it was afraid to discover it. For the truth was not pleasant. +Gordon did not know what it was; all he saw was that life was built of +shams, that no one worshipped anything but the god of things that seem. +He lay supine, cursing at the darkness. + +The next morning he woke with the same feeling of depression; he looked +round his dormitory. There were seven of them, all perfectly happy and +contented. And why? Merely because they looked at the surface, because +they did not take the trouble to find out what was true and what was +false. They were happy in their ignorance, and he, too, could be happy +if he just took things as they were. His last few weeks had been so full +of joy, because he had not taken the trouble to think. Thought was the +cause of unhappiness. And yet he had to think. He hated half measures. +For a certain space he had to live on earth, and he wanted to discover +what life really was. What lay beyond the grave he did not know, +"sufficient for the day were the day's evil things." But he felt that he +must try and plumb the depth or shallowness of the day's interests. He +could not bear the idea of a contentment purchased by cowardice. + +Yet he had learn from Tester that the soul is man's most sacred +possession, and must not be shown to the crowd; that he must always mask +his true emotions, except in the company of those who could understand +them. + +So he went down to breakfast telling Collins the latest joke from _The +London Mail_. On his way back to the studies he ran into a fag. + +"Caruthers, Chief wants to see you in his study." + +Gordon found the Chief waiting for him. + +"You are not busy, I hope, are you, Caruthers?" + +"Oh no, sir." + +"Well, at any rate, I shall keep you only for a minute. I just wanted to +speak to you for a second before you left. Everything is such a rush on +the last day. I suppose you have found that authority brings a good many +difficulties with it, and I have heard that you have had a row or two. +But I think you have done very well on the whole. I did not say very +much about it at the time, but about two years ago I had very grave +doubts about how you were going to turn out; I must say that I was very +nervous about making you a prefect. But, still, I think your last year +has really developed your character, and you certainly have had the +wisdom and luck, shall we say, like the host at the wedding, to keep +your best till last." + +The Chief smiled the smile that was peculiarly his own, and peculiarly +winning. "I must not keep you any longer. But I did want to take this +opportunity of telling you that I have been pleased with you this term, +though perhaps my praise sounds weak beside the applause you got after +your innings. At any rate, I wish you the very best of luck." + +With mixed feelings Gordon left the study. He valued the Chief's opinion +amazingly, but he could not help knowing that he did not deserve it. He +felt as though he had deceived the Chief. If only the Chief knew how he +had plunged along in his own way, an egotist, an iconoclast! And then +suddenly there came over him the shock of discovery, that everything in +life was so distorted and hidden by superficial coverings, that even the +wisest failed to discern between the true and the false. + +He was able to see himself as he was, to realise the littleness of his +own performances. Yet the Chief who, if anyone "saw life steadily, and +saw it whole," who was always more ready to judge an action by the +intention than by the result--the Chief himself had not really seen how +far his achievements were below his possibilities. And if the Chief was +at times deceived by the superficial, how was he, a self-willed, +blundering boy, ever likely to be able to come to a true understanding? + +He shrugged. There still remained a few hours in which to enjoy the +fruits of a success which, if it meant little to him, conveyed a good +deal to the world outside. And power is very sweet. + +He tried to fling himself into the light-hearted atmosphere of rejoicing +in which the whole House was revelling, but he found it impossible. His +laughter was forced; yet his friends noticed no change in him; he was to +them just as he had always been. + +Even Morcombe, who was to him more than other friends, had failed to +understand. + +"It must be rather decent to be leaving in the way you are," he said, as +they were sitting in the games study before evening chapel. "I doubt if +you stopped on if you would ever quite equal the appropriateness of that +last innings." + +"Yes," said Gordon, with a conscious irony, "it's certainly dramatic." + +What use was it to try and show him what he was thinking? He had learnt +that it is better to leave illusions untouched. + +Often in the past he had tried to imagine what a last chapel service +must be like. The subject has been done to death by the novelist. In +every school story he had read, the hero had always felt the same +emotions: contentment with work well done, sorrow at leaving a +well-loved place. He had wondered whether he would want to cry; and if +so, whether he would be able to stop it. He had looked inquiringly in +the faces of those who were leaving and had never read anything very +new. Some were enigmas; some looked glad in a way that they were going +to begin a life so full of possibilities. Some vaguely realised that +they had reached the height of their success at nineteen. + +But now that his time had come, his thoughts were very different from +what he had imagined. He felt the sorrow that is inevitable to anyone +who is putting a stage of his life clean out of sight behind him; but +for all that he had come to the conclusion that he was not really sad at +leaving. Fernhurst was for him too full of ghosts; so many dreams were +buried there. His feelings were mixed. He felt himself that he had +failed, but he knew that he was hailed a success. He half wished that in +the light of experience he could go through his four years again; but if +he did, he saw that in outward show, at any rate, he could never eclipse +the glory that was his for the moment. He remembered that sermon over +three years back in which the Chief had asked each boy to imagine +himself passing his last hours at school. "_How will it feel,_" the +Chief had said, "_if you have to look back and think only of shattered +hopes and bright unfulfilled promises?... To the pathos of human sorrow +there is no need to add the pathos of failure._" What was he to +think?--he whose career had so curiously mingled failure and success. + +The service slowly drew to its end. The final hymn was shouted by small +boys, happy at the thought of seven weeks' holiday. The organ boomed out +_God Save the King_; there was a moment's silence. Then the school +poured out into the cloisters. Gordon hardly realised his last service +was over. He had been so long a spectator of these partings that he +could not grasp the fact that he was himself a participator in them. + +He felt very tired, and was glad when bed-time came. He experienced the +same sensations that he had known as a new boy--a physical and mental +weariness that longed for the ending of the day. + +For a few hours silence hung round the ghostly Abbey; then, tremendous +in the east, Gordon's last whole day at Fernhurst dawned. + +As far as the Sixth were concerned, work was over. The rest of the +school had to go in for two hours for the rep. exam. The drowsy +atmosphere of a hot summer morning overhung everything. The studies were +very quiet. Gordon took a deck-chair on to the Sixth Form green and +settled down to read _Endymion_. + +But he found it impossible to concentrate his thoughts on anything but +the riotous wave of introspection that was flooding his brain. He soon +gave up the attempt; and putting down the book, he lay back, his hands +behind his head, gazing at the great grey Abbey opposite him, while +through his brain ran Gilbert Cannan's words: "Life is round the +corner." He had failed. He knew he had failed. But where and why? Then, +as he began to question himself, suddenly he saw it all clearly. He had +failed because he had set out to gain only the things that the world +valued. He had sought power, and he had gained it; he had asked for +praise, and he had won it; he had fought, and he had conquered. But at +the moment of his triumph he had realised the vanity of all such +success; when he had come to probe it to the root, he had found it +shallow. For all the things that the world valued were shallow and +without depth, because the world never looked below the surface. He had +found no continuing city; his house was built upon sand. + +The truth flashed in on him; he knew now that as long as he was content +to take the world's view of anything, he was bound to meet with +disillusionment. He would have to sift everything in the sieve of his +own experience. The judgment of others would be of no avail. He would be +an iconoclast. The fact that the world said a thing was beautiful or +ugly, and had to be treated as such, must mean nothing to him. He would +search for himself, he would plumb the depths, if needs be, in search of +the true ideal which was lurking somewhere in the dark. Tester had been +right. It was useless to look back to the past for guidance. He had a +few hours back asked for some fixed standard by which to judge the false +from the true. There were no standards except a man's own experience. +Here at Fernhurst he had failed to find anything, because he had sought +for the wrong things; he had at once accepted the crowd's statement for +the truth. Now it would be different. In his haste he had said that +Fernhurst had taught him nothing. He had been wrong. It had taught him +what many took years to learn, and sometimes never learnt at all. It had +taught him to rely upon himself. In the future he would take his courage +in his hands, and work out his own salvation on the hard hill-road of +experience. + +The school was just pouring out from the rep. exam. He heard Foster +shouting across the courts. + +"Caruthers, you slacker, come up to the tuck-shop." + +"Right-o!" he yelled back; and racing across the green jumped the +railings, and went laughing up to the tuck-shop. + +"I say, Foster, let's have a big tea this afternoon. We had a supper for +the A-K side on Saturday. Let's have the rest up to-day." + +Gordon flushed with excitement at what lay before him. He wanted +everyone else to laugh with him too. An enormous tea was ordered. Men +from the outhouses came down, the tables were drawn up on the V. A +green, and the afternoon went by in a whirl of happiness. They rolled +out arm in arm for the prize-giving. For the last time Gordon saw the +whole staff sitting on "their dais serene." He looked at the row of +faces. There was Rogers puffed out with pride; Christy, pharisee and +humbug, superbly satisfied with himself. Finnemore sat in the +background, a pale grey shadow, that had been too weak to get to grips +with life at all. Trundle nursed his chin, twittering in a haze of +indecision. Ferrers was fidgeting about, impatient of delay. He, at any +rate, was not being misled by outside things; if he was misled by +anything, it was by the impulse of his own feverish temperament. He was +the splendid rebel leader of forlorn hopes, the survival of those + + "_Lonely antagonists of destiny_ + _That went down scornful before many spears._" + +There, again, was Macdonald, with the same benign smile that time could +not change. As he looked at him, Gordon thought that he at least could +not have been deceived, but had too kind, too wide a heart to +disillusion the young. And, above all, sat Buller, a second Garibaldi, +with a heart of gold, an indomitable energy, a splendid sincerity, the +most loyal of Fernhurst's sons. And as Gordon looked his last at his old +foe, he felt that "the Bull" was so essentially big, so strong, so noble +of heart, that it hardly mattered what he worshipped. There hung round +him no false trapping of the trickster; sincerity was the keynote of his +life. Gordon would search in vain, perhaps, for a brighter lodestar. As +two vessels that have journeyed a little way together down a river, on +taking their different courses at the ocean mouth, signal one another +"good luck," so Gordon from the depth of his heart wished "the Bull" +farewell and Godspeed. + +At last the form lists were read out. A titter rewarded Gordon's +position of _facile ultimus_. The cups were distributed. Gordon went up +for the batting cups, his own individual one, and the challenge one that +went to the House. Foster went up for the Senior cricket; it was a +veritable School House triumph. The Chief made his usual good-bye +speech, kindly, hopeful, encouraging. The head of the school shouted +"Three cheers for the masters!"--the gates swept open, the cloisters +were filled with hurrying feet. + +The last hours passed all too swiftly. In a far corner of the gallery +Gordon sat with Morgan, listening to his last school concert. Opposite +the choir in their white shirts, and brushed-back hair, sang the school +songs inseparable from the end of the school year. There was the summer +song, the "Godspeed to those that go," the poignant _Valete_: + + "_We shall watch you here in our peaceful cloister_, + _Faring onward, some to renown, to fortune_, + _Some to failure--none if your hearts are loyal--_ + _None to dishonour._" + +To Gordon every word brought back with it a flood of memories. He could +see himself, the small boy, reading those verses for the first time +before he went to Fernhurst, ignorant of what lay before him. How soon +he had changed his fresh innocency! How soon his bright gold had grown +dim! Then he saw himself this time last year, listening to those words +with an unbounded confidence, certain that he at least would never +achieve failure. Visions in the twilight! And what was the dawn to +bring? + +The Latin _Carmen_ began. The school stood on their seats and howled it +out. Then came _Auld Lang Syne_. They clasped hands, swaying in chorus. +The echoes of _God Save the King_ shook the timbered ceiling, someone +was shouting "Three cheers for the visitors!"; the school surged towards +the door; Gordon found his feet on the small stone stairway. He looked +back once at the warm lights; the honour-boards that would never bear +his name; the choir still in their places; the visitors putting on their +coats and wraps. Then the stream moved on; the picture faded out; and +from the courts came the noise of motors crunching on the gravel. + +As Gordon walked into the cool air he ran into Ferrers. + +"Good-bye, sir." + +"You are off, are you? Well, good luck. Write to me in the hols; I'll +look you up if I'm in town. If not, cheer-o!" + +He was gone in a second. + + "_'So some time token the last of all our evenings_ + _Crowneth memorially the last of all our days ...'_" + +Gordon murmured to himself as he walked slowly down to the dining +hall.... + +The next morning there was the inevitable bustle, the tipping of the +servants, the good-byes, the promises to write at least twice during the +holidays, the promises which were never kept. + +"Here, Bamford, I say," shouted Gordon, "take my bag down to the +station." + +Bamford looked almost surly at being told to do anything on that last +day. "Authority forgets a dying king," thought Gordon. His power could +not have been so great if it began to wane almost before he had gone. + +The eight-forty came into the station, snorting and puffing. + +Gordon secured a corner seat, and leant out of the window, shaking hands +with everyone he could see. + +"You'll be down next term, won't you?" yelled Morgan, bursting as ever +with good will. + +"I expect so," said Gordon. + +But in his heart of hearts he knew that he would never come back. He +would be afraid lest he should find the glamour with which he had +surrounded the grey studies and green walks of Fernhurst merely a mist +of sentiment that would fade away. So many things that he had believed +in he had found untrue. But he wanted to keep fresh in his mind the +memory of Fernhurst as he had last seen it, beautiful and golden in the +morning sun. + +The train slowly steamed out. Hands were waved, handkerchiefs fluttered. +Slowly the Abbey turned from ochre-brown to blue, till it was hidden out +of sight. + +Gordon sank back into his seat. He was on the threshold of life; and he +stepped out into the sunlight with a smile, which, though it might be a +little cynical, as if he had been disillusioned, held none the less the +quiet confidence of a wayfarer who knew what lay before him, and felt +himself well equipped and fortified "for the long littleness of life." + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Loom of Youth, by Alec Waugh + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LOOM OF YOUTH *** + +***** This file should be named 18863.txt or 18863.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/1/8/8/6/18863/ + +Produced by Kathryn Lybarger, Josephine Paolucci and the +Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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