Digby Heathcote Part 24

Another morning, a pipe was found in his mouth actually smoking, and for some time he continued to blow his cloud. Another day, he had a large branch of holly in his hand, and a wreath of holly, with red berries, round his head. Once he appeared in a high conical cap, very like a fool's-cap, while in front hung a placard with "Won't say his lessons,"

painted on it. Indeed, there was no end of the changes the snow-giant underwent. Then he was seen to appear with a post-bag hanging from his arm; and, on its being opened, it was found to contain a variety of letters to different people present, mostly the younger ones of the party. They were from very odd correspondents. One was from the Man in the Moon; another signed himself--Your affectionate cousin, Timothy Tugmutton; the Antipodes. The King of the Cannibal Islands wrote two letters; and the Polar Bear another. They were very amusing epistles; and the writers seemed to know in a wonderful way what was going forward in the house. The arrival of the snow-giant's post-bag was looked forward to with even more interest than had been the changes which had taken place in his head-dress.

Thus the early weeks of winter pa.s.sed pleasantly by. Mr Nugent tried to induce Digby to give some time in the morning to study, to prepare himself for the new school, to which it was arranged he should go after the Christmas holidays; but he appeared always to be in too great a hurry and bustle to sit down quietly to his books, so as to imbibe any information from them.

"You will be sorry for your idleness, my dear boy," said his uncle.

"Not only are you acquiring no knowledge, but you are altogether getting out of the habit of study--out of training, I will call it. Suppose that you were to give up running for some months, do you think that you would be able to move your legs as fast as when you were constantly using them? Or if you were not to employ your arms for the same length of time, you would be very unwilling, I suspect, to climb a tree. The mind, in the same way, requires constant and regular exercise, or it very rapidly gets out of use, and it takes a great deal of trouble to bring it into working condition again."

Digby listened respectfully to what his uncle said; and though the next morning he got out his books very manfully, one of his young friends coming in, made him put them up again, and they were not looked into that day.

Thus the holidays glided by, and the day of his departure approached.

He liked having so many guests in the house, but they prevented him from enjoying Kate's society as much as formerly, and he was not sorry when all of them, with the exception of Arthur Haviland, went away.

Everybody liked Arthur. He was a great favourite with Mrs Heathcote, as well as with the Squire and Digby's eldest sisters; and Kate thought him a first-rate fellow; he was so very different to Julian Langley.

Digby was very sorry to part from Arthur. He, as it had been arranged, was to go to Mr Sanford's school, in Berks.h.i.+re, while Arthur returned to one in Hamps.h.i.+re, of which he spoke in the highest terms, and regretted that his friend was not to accompany him.

Digby pressed Arthur warmly to come back and spend the summer holidays.

This, however, he could not promise to do.

"My father may wish me to accompany him somewhere, and I, of course, shall wish to go with him," said Arthur. "But I will promise not to let a year pa.s.s, if I can help it, without our meeting."

No one ever quitted a house having more completely secured the regard of all the family than did Arthur Haviland.

Cousin Giles, who had great discernment of character, spoke very highly of him, and regretted much that Digby could not have been more with him.

To Digby's surprise, a day or two before he was to leave home, his father called him into his study; not that the Squire ever did study anything there beyond the newspaper, or a compendium of information for justices of the peace, or some similar work.

"So, my dear boy, you are going away again from us," he began. "I wish that you could stay with us always, and have John Pratt to look after you, as he did when you were a little chap; but as that can't be, you must make the best use of your time when you are away from us. What I want to talk to you about is this--your mother and I intended that you should spend a couple of years or so at Mr Sanford's, at Grangewood House, and then go to some public school; however, we shall talk about that by-and-by. I wish to see how you get on at the school to which you are going. It will be a very different sort of life to that to which you have hitherto led. You'll get some hard knocks and kicks, but you'll not mind them; and you will have to fight your way upward, but that you are well able to do; and I have little fear that you will take good care of yourself. I am not much in the habit of giving advice, as you know, my boy; but there is one thing I must charge you, never to forget that you are a Christian, and a gentleman. I have done my best to make you hate and scorn to tell a lie, and the consequence is, that I would sooner take your word than I would the oath of any man I know.

And now I charge you to fight against every bad thought which comes into your mind, and to scorn to do a mean or ungenerous action. Guard especially against selfishness; nothing so quickly grows on a person by indulgence. Fight for your undoubted rights, but gladly give up anything which may conduce to the pleasure of others, or benefit them.

I don't mean, of course, that you are to let a bully take anything he may fancy from you, that is quite a different matter; but never try to get hold of what you know another person wishes for, and of which you will thus deprive him."

Much more the Squire said to the same effect. Digby grasped his father's hand.

"Yes, papa, I will do my best, indeed I will, to act as you tell me," he answered. "I have done a good many things I have been sorry for, but yet I don't think there has been anything which would make you ashamed of calling me your son."

Such were the sentiments with which Digby went to school. His parting was not a very melancholy one. Kate and Gusty cried, but he held up very bravely; and when a postchaise came to the door, and his boxes were secured, and he had manfully stepped in, and John Pratt, who was to accompany him all the way, had taken his seat on the box, and the postilion had cracked his whip, he was able to wave his cap out of the window, and to sing out, in a cheerful voice--"Hurra for the Midsummer holidays!"

CHAPTER ELEVEN.

DIGBY'S NEW SCHOOL--HOW HE WAS RECEIVED THERE--HE LEARNS THE INCONVENIENCE OF WANT OF DISCIPLINE--HIS COMPANIONS AND THEIR CHARACTERS--ADVANTAGE OF A BOLD FRONT IN A GOOD CAUSE.

"Is this Grangewood House, John?" asked Digby, as he looked out of the window of the fly which had brought them from the railway station, and which was now stopping at a large white gate, which John Pratt had got off the box to open.

"Yes, sir; this be Mr Sanford's academy for young gentlemen. There's a great many on 'em comes backwards and forwards by me at times," answered the driver, instead of John, who did not hear the question.

It was a substantial, large, red-brick house, completely in the country, with a circular drive up to it, and a meadowish piece of lawn, with some fine elms, in front. The place was not picturesque, but well suited for the requirements of a school. There were wide-spreading wings on either side, with a walled enclosure on the right, from which proceeded the sound of many young voices, shouting, bawling, and laughing, showing Digby that it was the playground. He altogether liked the look of things outside.

The fly stopped in front of the house; a flight of stone steps led up to the chief door. John descended, and rang the bell, and, while it was being answered, busied himself in taking his young master's things out of the fly.

"Is this Mr Sanford's school, young woman?" he asked of the maid-servant, who opened the door.

"It is, young man, and my name is Susan," was the quick reply; some people might have called it pert.

"Then, Susan, do you just tell your master that young Master Digby Heathcote, the eldest son of Squire Heathcote, of Bloxholme, has come,"

answered John, letting down the steps, and handing Digby out with an air of the greatest respect. He unintentionally spoke, too, in a tone which sounded not a little pompous.

Several boys, who had been pa.s.sing through the hall at the time, and, of course, followed Susan to the door, to have a look at the new comer, overheard the announcement. A loud shout of laughter from many voices followed, in a variety of tones, as they retreated down a pa.s.sage.

Digby heard them repeating one to the other "Young Master Digby Heathcote, the eldest son of Squire Heathcote, of Bloxholme, has come.

Ho, ho! young Master Digby, what an important person you are--ha! ha!

ha!--we don't think." Great emphasis was laid on the words young master, and eldest son. Digby knew quite enough of boys to wish heartily that poor John had held his tongue.

"You'll go round to the back door; or are you going away in the fly?"

said the maid-servant, addressing John, with rather a scornful glance.

"Neither one nor t'other, Mistress Susan," answered John. "I'm going to stay with Master Digby for the present."

"You can't do that; Master Digby has to go at once to Mr Sanford,"

replied Susan.

"That's where I'm going to, young woman, let me tell you," exclaimed John, bristling up. "He has been spirited away once, and we had a hard job to get him back; and I'm not going to lose sight of him till I see him safe in Mr Sanford's hands, who must be answerable for him whenever he is sent for. A pretty thing to leave him with such as you, indeed, who might go and declare that you never got him. No, Master Digby, dear--that's what I'm going to do, I know my duty, and I'm going to do it."

The last remark was made to Digby, who was expostulating, by signs, with John, fearing that he would offend Susan. The damsel, however, seemed not to care a bit for what John said; and would have shut the hall-door in his face, but he would not let go of Digby's hand.

"Well, I don't know what master will say to you," exclaimed Susan, as John entered the hall, evidently resolved not to lose sight of Digby, or his boxes, till he had delivered them into what he considered proper custody. Susan, meantime, disappeared at a door on one side of the hall. She soon returned.

"You are to go in there," she said, addressing Digby. "Not you," she said, looking at John.

"There are just two opinions about that," answered John, coolly opening the door, and walking with Digby into a handsome library.

A tall, delicate-looking man, was reclining in his dressing-gown on a sofa, with a book in his hand. He looked up with an expression of surprise on his countenance on seeing John; and then glanced at Digby, but did not rise.

"Bee's you Mr Sanford, sir?" asked John, pulling the lock of his hair he usually employed for that purpose.

"Yes, I am, and the head of this school; and who are you?" said the gentleman, but not at all in an angry tone.

"I'm Squire Heathcote's man, of Bloxholme, and this is his son, Master Digby Heathcote; and I'm to deliver him safe and sound into your hands, to keep him carefully till he is sent for home, or till you send him back," answered John, firmly. "I suppose it's all right, sir?"

"I will give you an acknowledgment in writing that I have him all safe,"

said Mr Sanford, much amused at John's mode of proceeding. "Go into the kitchen, and get something to eat and drink after your journey."

"No, thank you, sir; I'd rather have the writing. I'm not hungry. We had something, Master Digby and I, as we came along; and I have to go back to the station with the fly."

"Very well; push that table with the desk on it near me. I will give you what you require."

John did as he was desired; and Mr Sanford wrote a short note, which he gave him.

John forthwith handed it to Digby. "I suppose it's all right, Master Digby, dear," he whispered. "I bean't no great scholard, sir, and so I just wanted the young master to see that the lines was all right and proper. No offence to you, sir, you know," he added, turning to Mr Sanford.