第 四 章 · A Minnow amongst Tritons

. A Minnow amongst Tritons

"Boys are capital fellows in their own way among their mates; but

they are unwholesome companions for grown people."--_Essays of

Elia._

For some time after they were fairly started the Doctor read his evening

paper with an air of impartial but severe criticism, and Mr. Bultitude

as he sat opposite him next to the window, found himself overwhelmed

with a new and very unpleasant timidity.

He knew that, if he would free himself, this utterly unreasonable

feeling must be wrestled with and overcome; that now, if ever, was the

time to assert himself, and prove that he was anything but the raw youth

he was conscious of appearing. He had merely to speak and act, too, in

his ordinary everyday manner; to forget as far as possible the change

that had affected his outer man, which was not so very difficult to do

after all--and yet his heart sank lower and lower as each fresh

telegraph post flitted past.

"I will let him speak first," he thought; "then I shall be able to feel

my way." But there was more fear than caution in the resolve.

At last, however, the Doctor laid down his paper, and, looking round

with the glance of proprietorship on his pupils, who had relapsed into a

decorous and gloomy silence, observed: "Well, boys, you have had an

unusually protracted vacation this time--owing to the unprecedented

severity of the weather. We must try to make up for it by the zest and

ardour with which we pursue our studies during the term. I intend to

reduce the Easter holidays by a week by way of compensation."

This announcement (which by no means relieved the general

depression--the boys receiving it with a sickly interest) was good news

to Paul, and even had the effect of making him forget his position for

the time.

"I'm uncommonly glad to hear it, Dr. Grimstone," he said heartily, "an

excellent arrangement. Boys have too many holidays as it is. There's no

reason, to my mind, why parents should be the sufferers by every

snowstorm. It's no joke, I can assure you, to have a great idle boy

hanging about the place eating his empty head off!"

A burglar enlarging upon the sanctity of the law of property, or a sheep

exposing the fallacies of vegetarianism, could hardly have produced a

greater sensation.

Every boy was roused from his languor to stare and wonder at these

traitorous sentiments, which, from the mouth of any but a known and

tried companion, would have roused bitter hostility and contempt. As it

was, their wonder became a rapturous admiration, and they waited for the

situation to develop with a fearful and secret joy.

It was some time before the Doctor quite recovered himself; then he said

with a grim smile, "This is indeed finding Saul amongst the prophets;

your sentiments, if sincere, Bultitude--I repeat, if sincere--are very

creditable. But I am obliged to look upon them with suspicion!" Then, as

if to dismiss a doubtful subject, he inquired generally, "And how have

you all been spending your holidays, eh!"

There was no attempt to answer this question, it being felt probably

that it was, like the conventional "How do you do?" one to which an

answer is neither desired nor expected, especially as he continued

almost immediately, "I took my boy Tom up to town the week before

Christmas to see the representation of the 'Agamemnon' at St. George's

Hall. The 'Agamemnon,' as most of you are doubtless aware, is a drama by

AEschylus, a Greek poet of established reputation. I was much pleased by

the intelligent appreciation Tom showed during the performance. He

distinctly recognised several words from his Greek Grammar in the course

of the dialogue."

No one seemed capable of responding except Mr. Bultitude, who dashed

into the breach with an almost pathetic effort to maintain his

accustomed stiffness.

"I may be old-fashioned," he said, "very likely I am; but

I--ah--decidedly disapprove of taking children to dramatic exhibitions

of any kind. It unsettles them, sir--unsettles them!"

Dr. Grimstone made no answer, but he put a hand on each knee, and glared

with pursed lips and a leonine bristle of the beard at his youthful

critic for some moments, after which he returned to his _Globe_ with a

short ominous cough.

"I've offended him now," thought Paul. "I must be more careful what I

say. But I'll get him into conversation again presently."

So he began at the first opportunity: "You have this evening's paper, I

see. No telegrams of importance, I suppose?"

"No, sir," said the Doctor shortly.

"I saw a report in to-day's _Times_," said poor Mr. Bultitude, with a

desperate attempt at his most conversational and instructive manner, "I

saw a report that the camphor crop was likely to be a failure this

season. Now, it's a very singular thing about camphor, that the

Japanese----" (he hoped to lead the conversation round to colonial

produce, and thus open the Doctor's eyes by the extent of his

acquaintance with the subject).

"I am already acquainted with the method of obtaining camphor, thank

you, Bultitude," said the Doctor, with dangerous politeness.

"I was about to observe, when you interrupted me," said Paul, "(and this

is really a fact that I doubt if you are aware of), that the Japanese

never----"

"Well, well," said the Doctor, with some impatience, "probably they

never do, sir, but I shall have other opportunities of finding out what

you have read about the Japanese."

But he glanced over the top of the paper at the indignant Paul, who was

not accustomed to have his information received in this manner, with

less suspicion and a growing conviction that some influence during the

holidays had changed the boy from a graceless young scapegrace into a

prig of the first water.

"He's most uncivil"--Mr. Bultitude told himself--"almost insulting, but

I'll go on. I'm rousing his curiosity. I'm making way with him; he sees

a difference already." And so he applied himself once more.

"You're a smoker, of course, Dr. Grimstone?" he began. "We don't stop

anywhere, I think, on the way, and I must confess myself, after dinner,

a whiff or two--I think I can give you a cigar you'll appreciate."

And he felt for his cigar-case, really forgetting that it was gone, like

all other incidents of his old self; while Jolland giggled with

unrestrained delight at such charming effrontery.

"If I did not know, sir," said the Doctor, now effectually roused, "that

this was ill-timed buffoonery, and not an intentional insult, I should

be seriously angry. As it is, I can overlook any exuberance of mirth

which is, perhaps, pardonable when the mind is elated by the return to

the cheerful bustle and activity of school-life. But be very careful."

"He needn't be so angry," thought Paul, "how could I know he doesn't

smoke? But I'm afraid he doesn't quite know me, even now."

So he began again: "Did I hear you mention the name of Kiffin amongst

those of your pupils here, Doctor? I thought so. Not the son of Jordan

Kiffin, of College Hill, surely? Yes? Why, bless my soul, your father

and I, my little fellow, were old friends in days before you were born

or thought of--born or thought of. He was in a very small way then, a

very small---- Eh, Dr. Grimstone, don't you feel well?"

"I see what you're aiming at, sir. You wish to prove to me that I'm

making a mistake in my treatment of you."

"That was my idea, certainly," said Paul, much pleased. "I'm very glad

you take me, Doctor."

"I shall take you in a way you won't appreciate soon, if this goes on,"

said the Doctor under his breath.

"When the time comes I shall know how to deal with you. Till then

you'll have the goodness to hold your tongue," he said aloud.

"It's not a very polite way of putting it," Paul said to himself, "but,

at any rate, he sees how the case stands now, and after all, perhaps, he

only speaks like that to put the boys off the scent. If so, it's

uncommonly considerate and thoughtful of him, by Gad. I won't say any

more."

But by-and-by, the open window made him break his resolution. "I'm sorry

to inconvenience you, Dr. Grimstone," he said, with the air of one used

to having his way in these matters, "but I positively must ask you

either to allow me to have this window up or to change places with you.

The night air, sir, at this time of the year is fatal, my doctor tells

me, simply fatal to a man of my constitution."

The Doctor pulled up the window with a frown, and yet a somewhat puzzled

expression. "I warn you, Bultitude," he said, "you are acting very

imprudently."

"So I am," thought Paul, "so I am. Good of him to remind me. I must keep

it up before all these boys. This unpleasant business mustn't get about.

I'll hold my tongue till we get in. Then, I daresay, Grimstone will see

me off by the next train up, if there is one, and lend me enough for a

bed at an hotel for the night. I couldn't get to St. Pancras till very

late, of course. Or he might offer to put me up at the school. If he

does, I think I shall very possibly accept. It might be better."

And he leant back in his seat in a much easier frame of mind; it was

annoying, of course, to have been turned out of his warm dining-room,

and sent all the way down to Market Rodwell on a fool's errand like

this; but still, if nothing worse came of it, he could put up with the

temporary inconvenience, and it was a great relief to be spared the

necessity of an explanation.

The other boys watched him furtively with growing admiration, which

expressed itself in subdued whispers, varied by little gurgles and

"squirks" of laughter; they tried to catch his eye and stimulate him to

further feats of audacity, but Mr. Bultitude, of course, repulsed all

such overtures with a coldness and severity which at once baffled and

piqued them.

At last his eccentricity took a shape which considerably lessened their

enthusiasm. Kiffin, the new boy, occupied the seat next to Paul; he was

a nervous-looking little fellow, with a pale face and big pathetic brown

eyes like a seal's, and his dress bore plain evidence of a mother's

careful supervision, having all the uncreased trimness and specklessness

rarely to be observed except in the toilettes of the waxen prodigies in

a shop-window.

It happened that, as he lay back in the padded seat between the

sheltering partitions, watching the sickly yellow dregs of oil surging

dismally to and fro with the motion in the lamp overhead, or the black

indistinct forms flitting past through the misty blue outside, the

pathos of his situation became all at once too much for him.

He was a home-bred boy, without any of that taste for the companionship

and pursuits of his fellows, or capacity for adapting himself to their

prejudices and requirements, which give some home-bred boys a ready

passport into the roughest communities.

His heart throbbed with no excited curiosity, no conscious pride, at

this his first important step in life; he was a forlorn little stranger,

in an unsympathetic strange land, and was only too well aware of his

position.

So that it is not surprising that as he thought of the home he had left

an hour or two ago which now seemed so shadowy, so inaccessible and

remote, his eyes began to smart and sting, and his chest to heave

ominously, until he felt it necessary to do something to give a partial

vent to his emotions and prevent a public and