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Glyn Severn's Schooldays, a novel by George Manville Fenn |
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Chapter 13. Before The "Starchers" |
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_ CHAPTER THIRTEEN. BEFORE THE "STARCHERS" Singh ran across to the glass on the dressing-table. "Why, Glyn, we can't see him. I'm bad enough, but you are far worse. What's to be done?" "I dunno," cried Glyn. "Who in the world would have thought he was coming down here to-day!" "We are supposed to be in the infirmary, aren't we?" said Singh. "I say, couldn't we undress and go to bed?" "No," said Glyn promptly. "What difference would that make?" "Why, he'd think we were too ill to be seen." "Nonsense," cried Glyn. "Wouldn't he come up and see us all the same?" "Oh dear!" groaned Singh. "What a mess we are in! This comes of your fighting." "Well, who made me fight? Who began it?" "Well, I suppose it was I," said Singh; "but I couldn't stand still and let him knock us both about. Oh dear, what a lot of bother it all is!" "Here, I say, Wrench," cried Glyn excitedly, "were you sent up to tell us that my father was here?" "No, sir," said the man, grinning; "but I thought you'd like to know. I must go now, in case my bell rings." The footman went off hurriedly, and the two boys, after a fresh visit to the looking-glass, tried to make the best of their appearance. Glyn combed his hair down in a streak over one side of his bruised forehead, while Singh poured out some cold water and dabbed and sponged his right eye; but he could not wash away the discoloration that surrounded it, and after applying the towel he plumped himself down in a chair and sat staring at his companion. "It's no use," he said; "I daren't face guardian, and I won't." "You tell him so," said Glyn, laughing, "and see what he will say." "How am I going to tell him so when I shan't see him?" "Why, you'll be obliged to." "I tell you I won't!" cried Singh passionately. "There's a sneak! And you will let me go down alone and face it all." "Oh, I say, don't talk like that," cried Singh. "Can't we get out of it somehow, old chap? Let's run away till the Colonel's gone." "Yes, of course," cried Glyn sarcastically. "How much money have you got?" "Oh, I don't know; half-a-crown and some shillings." "Oh, I have got more than that. I have got half-a-sovereign. Shall we go to Plymouth, and sail for somewhere abroad?" "Yes, anywhere, so that we don't have to meet your father." "Ah," said Glyn, who was trying very hard to make the lock of hair he had combed over a bruise stop in its place, but it kept jumping up again and curling back to the customary position in spite of applications of cold water and pomatum. "Well, what do you mean by 'Ah'?" grumbled Singh. "Mean by 'Ah'?" replied Glyn slowly. "Why, it means what a stupid old chucklehead you are. Run away! Likely, isn't it?" "Oh, too late! too late!" cried Singh, for there was another sharp tap at the door, and Wrench entered smartly, closely followed by his cat. "Doctor's compliments, gentlemen, and you are to come down into the drawing-room directly.--And just you go back to the pantry at once," he shouted at his cat. "How many more times am I to tell you that you are not to follow me up into the young gentlemen's rooms?" "Bah!" shouted Glyn, and he threw the hairbrush he held smartly at the footman, who caught it cleverly, as if he were fielding a ball at mid-wicket, and deposited it upon the dressing-table. "Well caught, sir!" cried the man, eulogising his own activity. "There, never mind, gentlemen; go down and get it over. There ain't anything to be ashamed of. If I was you, Mr Severn, I should feel proud at having licked that great big disagreeable chap. I shall be glad to see his back. He's quite big enough to leave school." "Ah!" said Glyn with a sigh. "Come on, Singhy; Wrench is right. Let's get it over; only I want to bathe my face again. It smells of old Mother Hamton's embro--what did she call it? You may as well go on first. I won't be long." "What!" cried Singh, looking aghast at the speaker. "Go down and see him alone? I won't! He's not my father; he's yours. You may go first, and I won't come unless I'm obliged." "Won't you?" said Glyn, laughing softly, and he caught hold of his companion's wrist and drew it under his arm. "Open the door, Wrenchy, and make way for the hospital--two wounded men going down.--I say, Singhy, look as bad as you can. Here, I know: Wrenchy and I will carry you down in a chair." Singh opened his mouth quickly and shut it sharply, making his white teeth close together with a snap. Then knitting his brows and drawing a deep breath, he held on tightly to his companion, and walked with him in silence downstairs into the hall. Here the pair stopped short by the drawing-room door, where Wrench slipped before them and raised his hand to show them in; but Glyn caught him by the arm. "Wait a moment," he said, and the three stood there by the mat, forming a group, listening to the slow, heavy murmur of the Doctor's voice and the replies given in a loud, sonorous, emphatic tone. "Now," said Glyn at last. The door was thrown open, and they entered, to face the Doctor, who was seated back in an easy-chair with his hands before him and finger-tips joined; while right in the centre of the hearthrug, his back to the fireplace and legs striding as if he were across his charger, stood the tall grey Colonel, swarthy with sunburn and marked by the scar of a tulwar-cut which had divided his eyebrow and passed diagonally from brow to cheek. He was gazing at the Doctor and listening politely to something he was saying in his soft, smooth voice, but turned his head sharply as the door was opened, and his ultra-long, heavy grey moustache seemed to writhe as he fixed the boys with his keen grey eyes in turn. "Right, Doctor!" he cried, as if he were giving an order to a squadron to advance. "Disgraceful!--Well, you do look a pretty pair!" "I'll leave you together," said the Doctor, rising slowly, and then glancing at the boys. "Yes," he said softly, "dreadfully marked; but you should have seen them, Colonel, directly after their encounter." "Ha, yes; wounded on the field," said the Colonel drily. "Thank you. Yes, sir, I think I should like to have a few words with them alone." For the first time since they had known him the feeling was strong upon the boys that they would have liked their preceptor to stay. But the Doctor gave each of them a grave nod as he moved towards the door, and they both stood as if chained to the carpet till the Colonel made a stride forward, when Glyn recollected himself, ran to the door, and opened it for the Doctor to pass out. The Colonel grunted, and then as the door was closed, he marched slowly across to his son; and as the boy faced him caught him by the shoulder with his right hand, walked him back to where Singh stood alone, grabbed him with his left, and forced them both towards the wide bay window fully into the light. "Stand there!" he said, in commanding tones. Then stooping stiffly to seize the Doctor's easy-chair by the back, he made the castors squeak as he swung it round and threw himself into it with his back to the window, when he crossed one leg over the other, and sat staring at them fiercely and scanning for some moments every trace of the late encounter. Glyn drew a long, deep breath loudly enough to be heard, while Singh stood with hanging hands, opening and closing his fingers, and passing his tongue quickly over his dry lips. But the Colonel still went on staring at them and frowning heavily the while. At last Singh could bear it no longer. "Oh, say something, sir!" he cried passionately. "Scold us, bully us, punish us if you like; but I can't bear to be looked at like that." It was the Colonel's turn now to draw a deep breath, as he raised himself in the chair a little, thrust one hand behind him, fumbled for his pocket, and then drew out a large soft bandana handkerchief and blew his nose with a blast like a trumpeted order to charge. Then, as he sank back in his chair, "Ha, ha, ha! haw, haw, haw!" he literally roared. "Well, you do look a pretty pair of beauties!" he cried. "But this won't do. Here, you, Glyn, what do you mean by this, sir? Didn't I warn you against fighting, and tell you to protect and set an example to young Singh here?" "Yes, father." "Look at yourself in the glass. You look a pretty pattern, don't you?" "Yes, father." "I told you to look at yourself in the glass. Why don't you?" "Because I know every scratch and bruise thoroughly by heart, father." "But--" began the Colonel. Here Singh interposed. "It wasn't his fault, sir," cried the boy. "It was mine. He didn't want to fight, and said he wouldn't." "Ho!" said the Colonel. "Said he wouldn't fight, did he." "Yes, sir, and he actually let the big bully hit him." "Ha!" said the Colonel. "And then knocked him down for it?" "No, he didn't, sir," cried Singh, with his eyes twinkling. "He wouldn't fight even then." "Humph!" grunted the Colonel. "And what then?" "Well, it put me in such a rage, sir, that I couldn't bear it, and I went and hit the big fellow right in the face, and he hit me again." "Ah, you needn't tell me that," replied the Colonel; "that's plain enough. Well, what after?" "Well, that made Glyn take my part, and he swung me behind him; and oh, sir, he did give the big fellow such an awful thrashing!" "Ha!" said the Colonel, taking his great grey moustache by both hands and drawing it out horizontally. "A thorough thrashing, eh?" "Yes, sir." "And what were you doing?" "Oh, I was seconding him, sir." "Oh, that was right. You were not both on him at once?" "Oh no, sir; it was all fair." "Then Glyn thoroughly whipped him, eh?" "Yes, sir, thoroughly." The Colonel turned to his son, and looked him over again; and then, after another two-handed tug at his moustache, he said slowly: "I say, Glyn, old chap, you got it rather warmly. But tut, tut, tut, tut! This won't do. What did that old chap say: 'Let dogs delight to bark and bite'? Here, I have been talking to the Doctor, and the Doctor has been talking to me. Look here, you, Singh, military fighting, after proper discipline, and done by fighting men, is one thing; schoolboy fighting is quite another, not for gentlemen. It's low and blackguardly.--Do you hear, Glyn?" he cried turning on his son. "Blackguardly, sir--blackguardly. Look at your faces, sir, and see how you have got yourselves marked. But er--er--" He picked his pocket-handkerchief up from where he had spread it over his knees and blew another blast. "This er--this er--big fellow that you thrashed--big disagreeable fellow--bit of a bully, eh?" "Regular tyrant, father. We hadn't been here a month, before not a day passed without his insulting Singh or making us uncomfortable." "Ha! insulted Singh, did he?" "Yes, sir," cried that individual through his set teeth. "He was always calling me nigger, and mocking at me in some way." "Humph! Brute! And so, after putting up with a good deal, and obeying my orders till he couldn't stand it any longer, Glyn took your part and thrashed the fellow, eh?" "Yes, sir, bravely," cried Singh, with his eyes flashing. "I wish you'd been there to see." "I wish--" The Colonel stopped short. "No, no. Tut, tut! Nonsense! I did not want to see. Here, hold out your hands, Glyn. No, no, not like that. Double your fists. Hold them out straight. I want to look at your knuckles. Dreadful! Nice state for a gentleman's hands. Fighting's bad.--Do you hear, Singh? Very bad. But I must confess that I didn't get through school without a turn-up or two myself. Glyn took your part, then, and thrashed the fellow. Well, he won't bully either of you again. Yes, I got into my scrapes when I was a boy; but you know times were different then. Everything was rougher. This sort of thing won't do. You must be more of gentlemen now--more polished. Fighting's bad." "But you let the sergeant, father, teach us how to use the gloves after you had got them over from England." "Eh? What, sir--what sir?" cried the Colonel sharply. "Well, yes, I did. It was a bit of a lapse, though, and every man makes mistakes. But that, you see, was part of my old education, and through being in India so many years and away from modern civilisation, and er--Of course, I remember; it was after your poor father had been talking to me, Singh, and telling me that he looked to me to make you a thorough English gentleman, one fit to occupy his throne some day, and rule well over his people--firmly, justly, and strongly, as an Englishman would. And, of course, I thought it would be right for you both to know how to use your fists if you were unarmed and attacked by ruffians. And--er, well, well, you see I was not quite wrong. Mind, you know, I detest fighting, and only this morning I have been quite agreeing with the Doctor--fine old gentlemanly fellow, by the way, and a great scholar-- agreeing with him, I say, that this fighting is rather a disgrace. At the same time, my boys, as I was about to say, I was not quite wrong about those gloves. You see, it enabled Glyn here to bring skill to bear against a bigger and a stronger man, and er--um--you see, there are other kinds of fighting that a man will have to go through in life; and then when such things do happen, mind this--I mean it metaphorically, you know--when you do have to fight with your fists, or with your tongue, thrash your adversary if you can; but if he from superior skill or strength thrashes you, why then, take it like a man, shake hands, and bear no malice against the one who wins." The Colonel blew his nose again. "That's not quite what I wanted to say, my boys; but I shall think this affair over a bit, and perhaps I shall have a few more words to say by-and-by." "Oh, I say, dad--" cried Glyn. "What do you mean by that, sir?" said the Colonel sharply. "Finish it all now, and don't bring it up again." "Glyn!" cried the Colonel sternly. "Yes, father." "Don't you dictate to me, sir. I promised the Doctor that I would talk to you both severely about this--this--well, piece of blackguardism, ungentlemanly conduct, and I must keep my word. But I will reserve the rest till after dinner." "After dinner, father?" cried Glyn eagerly. "Yes. I have come down to stay at Plymborough for a few days at the hotel, and I have told them there that I should have two gentlemen to dine with me to-night, of course, if the Doctor gives his consent." "Oh, but look at us, sir!" cried Singh. "We are in the infirmary, and not fit to come." "Infirmary!" said the Colonel scornfully. "Ha, ha! You look infirm both of you!" "Oh, we don't feel much the matter, father," said Glyn; "but look at us." "Look at you, sir? How can I help looking at you? Yes, you do look nice objects." "But we can't help it now, sir," said Singh, "and we should like to come." "Humph! Yes, of course you'd like to come, my boy, and I want to have you both to finish my lecture after I have thought it out a little more. Well, look here, my lads; you are both bruised and--er--a bit discoloured; but the world isn't obliged to know that it was done with fists. You might have been thrown off your horses or been upset in a carriage accident. Oh yes, it's no business of anybody else's. I shall ask the Doctor to let you come." "Oh, thank you, father!" cried Glyn eagerly. "But I say, dad, you didn't shake hands with Singh when we came in." "Well, no, boy; but--there, there, that's all right now. You see I had to listen to what the Doctor said. Why, he tells me that you fellows showed them all down here how to deal with a rowdy elephant." "Singh did, father." "Well done, boy! You see, that's one great advantage in learning. Nearly everything comes useful some time or other, and--There, let me see," he continued, referring to his watch. "I must be off. Visit too long as it is. Ring the bell, one of you. I want to see the Doctor again before I go." "And you will get us leave, sir?" cried Singh, as he returned from pulling at the bell. "Oh yes, I'll manage that. Seven o'clock, boys, military time; and now you both be off; but mind this, I am going to finish my lecture after dinner, for I am not satisfied with what I said. There, right about face! March!" As the boys reached the door the handle was turned and the Doctor entered the room. _ |
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