Godfrey Marten, Undergraduate Part 23

Undoubtedly that day was a very bad one, and when any one stays up all night I advise him to go to bed during the next day, just to save trouble.

We had arrived at a state of silence, for I had nothing left to say, and Fred refused to say anything, when Jack Ward strolled into the room, as if he had nothing more than usual to do, and had just come to waste his time and mine. He must have tried to make what is called a dramatic entry, for most people who were in his condition would have hurried up for all they were worth. He was wet through from head to foot, his collar hung round his neck like a dirty rag, and his whole appearance reminded me of a scarecrow which has suffered dreadfully from the weather.

"What has happened?" I asked at once, for he walked straight up to an empty bottle and shook his head mournfully.

"Nothing," he answered, "except that your sister fell into the 'Cher'

and I hauled her out, and Mrs. What's-her-name shrieked and had hysterics. They are all right now, but as soon as I got your sister to the bank, I had to throw water over the other lady; I began by sprinkling her face, but as she rather liked that I had to give her a regular good dose, and then she opened her eyes and said her dress was spoilt. I must have some hot whisky, or I shall catch cold."

We besieged Jack with questions, but we did not get much satisfaction from his replies.

"It was all my fault," he said. "I thought I could teach your sister to punt, and she fell in and I pulled her out. I have told you that before."

"Nina can swim," I said.

"There wasn't much time to think about that, besides, she had a long dress on. I am afraid we made rather a sensation when I got a cab for them down at Magdalen."

"We must go round at once," I said to Fred.

"I don't think it is much good doing that," Jack went on. "I am awfully sorry that it happened, because Mrs. Faulkner was annoyed at first, and that was bad enough, but just before I left it suddenly occurred to her that I was very plucky and ought to be thanked, which was much worse. She says they are both going to bed until it is time for them to get up and catch the train. In that way she hopes to avoid the most serious consequences. Your sister thinks it rather a good joke; I hope she won't catch a bad cold."

"You had better go and change," I said, and I asked Fred if he would come to the Rudolf, but he said that it was no use for him to go if Mrs. Faulkner and Nina were in bed, and that he would meet me at the station. Then I said something to Jack about it being awfully good of him to have jumped into the "Cher" to fish Nina out, but I was very glad when he asked me to shut up, for Fred was looking more gloomy than ever, and I am sure that he, having seen Nina swimming heaps of times, thought the whole thing was thoroughly stupid. I did not quite know what to think about it, but I wished most sincerely that Nina had never tried to punt.

Fred walked with me for a short way down the Broad, but stopped by Balliol, and said he was going in to see a man.

"This affair is a horrid nuisance," I remarked.

"Nina wouldn't drown very easily," he returned.

"But she had a long dress on," and of this remark Fred took no notice.

"I don't think I shall come down to the station," he said; "will you wish Mrs. Faulkner and Nina good-bye from me?"

"No, I won't," I replied, and we stared at each other so hard that we were nearly run over by a cab; "you must come, do come to please me."

"You do such a precious lot to make me want to please you," he retorted, and he looked most desperately down on his luck.

"Do forget all about this afternoon. I didn't mean one word I said."

"You said a precious lot. I'll come all right, but they won't want to see me," and he walked off before I could tell him that they had better want to see him, or I would have even another row.

When I got to the Rudolf I sent up a card to Nina on which I wrote something which at the moment I thought funny. But she did not seem to see the humour of it, for she sent me down an angry little note in which she told me to go away and meet her at four o'clock. I went away sorrowfully, for there was a sense of importance about that note which told me that Nina was not going to tumble into the Cher for nothing, and I knew I should hear more than enough about it before long.

But I did not think that I should be made to suffer until I got to the station. But when your luck is dead out it is wise to be prepared for anything.

I strolled aimlessly down the Corn-market, and having nothing whatever to do, I turned into the Union to read the papers, or write a letter to my brother, or do anything to pa.s.s the time. I stood in the hall for some minutes looking at, but not reading, the telegrams; I was trying to remember whether it was my turn to write to my brother or his to write to me, and two or three men who found me planted in front of the telegrams shoved me a little, so I moved away and met a man whom I knew.

"Halloa, Marten," he said, "I've just seen the pluckiest thing; that man Ward, you know him, fairly saved a girl's life. She fell out of a punt on the Cher, a pretty girl too. Ward's a lucky brute, you ought to have been there."

"I've heard all about it," I answered.

"But it only happened an hour ago."

"Ward told me, he didn't think much of it."

"Well, you should have seen him, I tell you he did it splendidly; I always thought he was a friend of yours, but you don't look very keen.

However, it's something to talk about," he said, as he strolled off to find some one who would suit him better than I did.

I drifted from the hall to one of the smoking-rooms, where I sat down next to a big, bearded man, who was wearing a most extraordinary wide pair of trousers, and who looked as if he would discourage the attempts of any one who wanted to talk. He looked at me over the top of _The Times_, and having had the courage to sit next to him, I felt that if he would only look at other men as he did at me I should get all the protection I required. I read in the aimless way which makes me turn the paper over frequently in the futile hope of finding something interesting, and I could not help knowing that my neighbour's eyes were far oftener on me than on _The Times_. But I had no intention of leaving him, for we were members of a defensive alliance, though he knew nothing about it; two or three men I knew walked through the room and left me alone; I was, I thought, in an almost impregnable position and I closed my eyes, but before I had pa.s.sed from the stage of wondering whether I should snore if I went to sleep, I felt a touch on my arm, and found Learoyd standing by me.

"Go away," I said sleepily, "I am very tired."

He leant over my chair and began to whisper; his back unfortunately was turned to my ally, or I think I could have stopped him.

"Do you know," he began, "that your sister has been nearly drowned in the Cher, and Ward jumped in after her? Everybody says he saved her life and will get a medal."

"Who's everybody?" I asked, and I heard a noise, which was more like a grunt than anything else, from the chair behind Learoyd.

"Pratt told me, and I knew it must have been your sister because I saw Ward start out of the college with her and some one else. It was your sister, wasn't it?"

"Yes," I answered, and my friend in the wide trousers got up and walked by us.

"I am awfully glad it was your sister now that I have told Pratt so,"

Learoyd said. "He told me that he didn't think it could have been, because you didn't tell him."

"I never tell an a.s.s like Pratt anything," I replied, "he would die if he hadn't got something to talk about."

"I am very glad she wasn't drowned."

"You are only glad she fell in," I could not help saying.

He looked rather bothered for a minute. "No, I didn't mean that, only Pratt isn't the man to tell anything which isn't true, he's such a gossip," he answered.

"I suppose every one is bound to know all about it. I shouldn't wonder if it isn't in the papers this evening," I said, as I got out of my chair.

"It is sure to be," Learoyd replied cheerfully. "Jack Ward will have to pretend not to like it."

"He won't like it," I said, and I gave Learoyd my paper to read and made my escape into the garden. I sat down as far away from every one as I could and asked a waiter to bring me some tea, and for quite five minutes I was not molested. It was very early for tea, and the waiter was talkative when he came back.

"Going down to the river this afternoon, sir?" he said, as I fumbled in my pockets for some money.

"No," I replied.

"Nearly a sad accident on the Cherwell this morning I heard some gentleman saying. A gentleman from St. Cuthbert's College saved a young lady from drowning; he ought to marry the young lady, I say," he concluded with a waggish shake of the head, and he began to grope in his pockets for sixpence.

"Don't bother about the change," I said, "you're a humorist."

"A what, sir?"

"A humorist," I answered so loudly that nearly every one in the garden looked round.