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The Master of the Shell Part 53

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He had scarcely returned from the masters' dinner, meditating a few final touches to his packing, when Sir Digby Oakshott, Baronet, waited upon him.

The baronet was evidently agitated; and more than that, his face was one-sided, and one of his eyes glowed with all the colours of the rainbow.

"Why, Oakshott," said the master, "what is the matter? You have been fighting."

"That's not half of it," said Dig excitedly. "I say, Marky--I mean Mr Railsford; please Herapath wants to see you. He's in a bad way up- stairs. It's that cad Felgate. He's bashed us. He was in an awful wax about the dodge we played him over that sack, you know, and tried to pay us out the other day; but we kept him out. But he's been waiting his chance ever since; and when I was out of the study this evening, he came in, and gave it hot to Herapath. When I got back, Arthur was about done, and then Felgate turned on me. If I'd been bigger, I could have got a stroke or two in at his face; but I couldn't do it. I barked his s.h.i.+ns though, and gave him one on the neck with my left. So he didn't get it all his own way. But, I say, can't you come up and see old Herapath? You haven't got any raw beef-steaks about, have you? He'll want a couple to set him right."

Railsford hurried up-stairs.

Arthur was lying on his sofa, blinking up at the ceiling with his one open eye--an eloquent testimony both to his friend's veracity and to the activity of his a.s.sailant.

"You see," he began, almost before Railsford reached the patient, so anxious was he to excuse his battered appearance, "he caught me on the hop, Marky, when I never expected him, and gave me no time to square up to him. I could have made a better fight of it if he'd given me time between the rounds; but he didn't."

Railsford made no remark on the unequal conflict, but did what he could to a.s.sist the sufferer, and reduce his countenance to its normal dimensions.

Arthur was far less concerned at his wounds than at the moral injury which he had suffered in being so completely punished in the encounter.

He feared Railsford would entertain a lower opinion of him in consequence.

"If I'd have only known he was coming, I could have made it hotter for him," he said; "only he got my head in chancery early, and though I lashed out all I could, he took it out of me. Marky, do you mind feeling if my ribs are all right? I sort of fancied one of 'em had gone."

His ribs, however, were all there; and badly as he was bruised, Railsford was able to p.r.o.nounce that no bones were broken, which greatly relieved both the boys.

The master helped the wounded warrior to undress, and then a.s.sisted him up to the dormitory, where, after carefully tucking him up, and advising Dig to turn in too, he left him and returned to his room.

His impulse was immediately to summon Felgate, and mete out to him exemplary chastis.e.m.e.nt for his dastardly act. But on second thoughts he remembered that he was, or rather he would be to-morrow, no longer master of the house. Besides, much as the chastis.e.m.e.nt might have relieved his own feelings, it would leave the house and everyone in it in much the same position as heretofore.

Putting everything together, he decided that his last official act should be to report the matter to the doctor next morning, and leave him to deal with it.

Having come to which conclusion, he strapped up his portmanteau, and sent an order to Jason for his cab to-morrow.

He was meditating an early retirement to bed, when a knock sounded at the door, and the three prefects entered.

It seemed a long while since their first embarra.s.sed meeting in that same room at the beginning of last term. Much had happened since then.

The house had gone down into the depths and risen to the heights. There had come disgrace and glory, defeat and victory. The ranks of the prefects themselves had been broken, and the master himself had ended his brief career amongst his boys. But as great a change as any had been the growing respect and sympathy between Railsford and his head boys.

It was long since he had learned the secret that sympathy is the golden key to a boy's heart. As long as he tried to do without it, sitting on his high horse, and regarding his pupils as mere things to be taught and ordered and punished, he had failed. But from the moment he had seized the golden opportunity presented by the misfortune of the house to throw in his lot with it, and make his interests and ambitions those of his boys, he had gained a hold which no other influence could have given him.

His prefects had led the way in the reaction which had set in in his favour, and perfect confidence bound them all together in no common bond.

"Do you mind our disturbing you, sir?" said Ainger. "We didn't want you to go without our telling you how awfully sorry we are. We don't know what will become of the house."

"I'm not sure that I much care," said Stafford.

"How good of you to come like this!" said the master. "For I wanted to talk to you. You _must_ care, Stafford, and all of you. You surely aren't going to give up all the work of these two terms just because a little misfortune has befallen us?"

"It's not a little misfortune," said Ainger, "but a very great one."

"All the more reason you should not be knocked over by it. Didn't we all set ourselves to work last term in the face of a big misfortune, and didn't we get some good out of it for the house? It will be my one consolation in leaving to feel sure you will not let the work of the house flag an inch. Remember, Railsford's is committed to the task of becoming c.o.c.k house of the school. Our eleven is quite safe. I'm certain no team in all the rest of the houses put together can beat us.

But you must see we give a good account of ourselves on prize-day too.

Some of the boys have nagged a little lately in work. We must keep them up to it--not by bullying--n.o.body will work for that--but by working on their ambition, and making the cause of each boy the cause of the whole house."

Railsford, as he uttered these words, seemed to forget how soon he would have to say "you" instead of "we." He had hardly realised yet what that meant.

"We'll try hard," said Ainger. "But what we wanted to say, besides letting you know how sorry we are, was to ask if it's really necessary for you to go. Is there no way of getting out of it?"

"None at all, that I can see," said Railsford.

"Fellows say you know who it was a.s.saulted Mr Bickers last term and won't tell. Perhaps it's to save some fellow in the house from being expelled. But--"

"My dear fellows," said Railsford, "don't let's spoil our last evening by talking about this miserable affair. I can't tell you anything at all: I can only ask you to believe I have good reasons for what I'm doing. They ought to be good reasons, if the price I have to pay is to leave Grandcourt, and all of you."

It was evidently no use trying to "draw" him further; and as the first bed bell sounded shortly afterwards, they withdrew after a cordial but dismal farewell.

"I shall see you again in the morning before I go," said he.

The prefects walked away abstracted and downcast. It was all very well for him to say, "Keep the work up when I am gone." But how were they to do it? He was the pivot on which all their work had been turning; and without him what chance was there of keeping the house together for a day?

"Come in here a minute, you fellows," said Ainger, as they reached the captain's door. "We _must_ do something to stop it."

"That's a very feeble observation to make," said Barnworth. "Is that what you want us to come in here for?"

"No, hang it, Barnworth! there's no time for chaff at present. What I want to say is, have we tried every possible means of finding out who scragged Bickers last term?"

"I think so," said Stafford. "Every one in the house has denied it. If it's one of our fellows, it's probably the biggest liar among us."

"Which means Felgate?" said Ainger.

"Or Munger," said Barnworth.

"It's not Felgate," said Ainger, "for he has burnt his fingers in trying to fix it on Railsford himself; and it he was the real culprit, you may depend on it he'd have kept very quiet."

"Munger _has_ kept quiet," said Barnworth.

"Munger! Why, he's a fool and a coward both. He could never have done such a thing."

"Let's ask him. I'll tell you why I mentioned him. I never thought of it till now. The other day I happened to be saying at dinner to somebody that that affair was going to be cleared up at last, and that the doctor had been in consultation with Bickers and Railsford about it the evening before--you know, that's what we were told--and would probably come across--this was an embellishment of my own--with a policeman, and point the fellow out. Munger was sitting opposite me, and when I began to speak he had just filled his tumbler with water, and was going to drink it. But half-way through he suddenly stopped, and put the tumbler down with such a crack on the table that he spilt half the water on to the cloth. I didn't think anything of it at the time, but it occurs to me now."

"Well," said Ainger, "it's an off-chance. Staff, do you mind bringing him?"

"The one thing to do," said Barnworth, while the messenger was gone, "is to frighten it out of him. Nothing else will do."

"Well," said Ainger, "if you think so. You must back me up, though."

After a long interval, Stafford returned to say that Munger was in bed and refused to get up.

"Good," said Barnworth; "I like that. Now, Staff, you amiable old boy, will you kindly go to him again and say that the prefects are waiting for him in the captain's study, and that if he is not here in five minutes they will have to do without him. I fancy that's true, isn't it?" he added, appealing to his colleagues. "Let's see if that doesn't draw him. If it does, depend upon it there was something in that tumbler."

Barnworth was right. In less than five minutes Munger appeared, half- dressed, and decidedly uneasy in his manner.

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The Master of the Shell Part 53 summary

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