The Cock-House at Fellsgarth - BestLightNovel.com
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"Oh no. It was D'Arcy spoke to me."
"Oh, D'Arcy. And who spoke to him? Whose f.a.g is he?"
"Ridgway's."
"And what did Ridgway tell him?"
"I don't think Ridgway told him anything. The only one I heard speak to him was Wally."
"Wretched young sneak!" said Percy. "I'll let Wally know that."
"Wally, he's Yorke's f.a.g. Who else was there?"
"Only me and Ashby."
"Who does Ashby f.a.g for?"
"My brother, Fisher major."
"I thought you said just now your brother wasn't in it. You'd better be careful, youngster."
For the life of him, Fisher minor, in his bewildered state, could not make out how Ridgway, and Yorke, and Fisher major all seemed to have got mixed up in the affair.
"You mean to say," said the judge, "you don't know what the orders to the f.a.gs were?"
"No, really--I only heard of it from D'Arcy."
"Your brother never said anything to you direct!"
"Oh no."
"Has he said anything since?"
"Oh no; that is, he only said it was a pity Ranger got beaten."
"Did he say how it happened?"
"He said if the five Modern chaps hadn't turned up at the last moment, he'd have won."
"Was he angry about it?"
"He was rather in a wax."
"Did he tell you you were an a.s.s?"
"Not that time."
"Another time?"
"Yes, once or twice."
"'Cute chap, your brother," said Percy, aside.
"Shut up, Wheatfield. Now tell me this, young Fisher major," said Dangle, with an air of importance which intimidated the prisoner; "what was it your brother said about the election?"
"It wasn't to me, it was to Ranger, my senior. He said it was a regular sell, and he'd have given a lot to see you beaten, because he knew you couldn't play fair at anything, even if you tried."
Some of the court were rude enough to laugh at this very candid confession; but the judge himself failed to see any humour in it.
"Oh, that's what he said? And yet you mean to tell me, after that, that your brother had nothing to do with trying to get Ranger elected instead of me?"
"I suppose he had; but I'm sure he didn't mean to do anything fishy, any more than I did. I thought it was only a joke."
"You've a nice notion of a joke. That'll do, you can cut."
"What!" exclaimed Percy, aghast, "aren't you going to hang him?"
"No, I must go. You can finish the trial yourselves."
As soon as the judge had quitted the bench, Percy mounted it, and proceeded to sum up.
"You're a nice article, you are," said he, addressing the prisoner--"what do you mean by sneaking on my young brother, Wally, eh?
You'll get it hot for that, I can tell you. You're to be hanged, drawn, and quartered; then you're to be kicked all round our side; then you're to be ducked in the river; then you're to kneel down and lick every chap's boots; then you're to be executed; then you're to be burnt alive; then you're to write out fifty Greek verbs; then you're-- Hallo, who's there? Come in! what do you want?"
This abrupt curtailment of the prisoner's doom was occasioned by a modest tap at the door; probably some belated witness come to add his evidence to the rest, "Come in, can't you?" repeated Percy.
Whereupon the door opened with a swing, and in rushed Wally, D'Arcy, Ashby, and three or four other Cla.s.sic f.a.gs. How they had got wind of the capture of their man it would be hard to say; but now they had come to fetch him.
The only thing visible in Percy's room for several minutes was dust--out of which proceeded yells, and howls, and recriminations which would have done credit to Pandemonium. As the cloud rolled by, the Cla.s.sics might be seen in a firm phalanx, with their man in the middle, backing on to the door. Signs of carnage lay all around. Lickford was struggling, head downward, in the wash-stand. Cash was leaning up in a corner, with his hand modestly placed over his nose. Ramshaw and Cottle were engaged in deadly strife on the floor, each under the fond delusion that the other was a Cla.s.sic; while the twin brothers, armed with the better pair of boxing-gloves, were having a friendly spar in the middle.
It was a victory all along the line for the invaders, and when, a moment afterwards, they stampeded in a body, and marched with shouts of victory down the pa.s.sage, carrying the late prisoner among them, there was no mistake about the ignominious defeat of the besieged garrison.
That evening Fisher major received a polite note from his colleague, the secretary.
"Dear Fisher,--It is only right to tell you, that we have discovered that five of our fellows were prevented from voting at Elections by boys of your side, apparently acting under orders from their seniors. We don't profess to know who were at the bottom of it, but it is a fact that the election for treasurer would have gone differently but for this very shady trick. Clapperton and most of us are not disposed to claim a new election, now everything is settled, and you have already got in most of the subscriptions. But it makes us think that even the virtuous Cla.s.sics at Fellsgarth are not absolutely perfect even yet--which is a pity.
"Yours truly,--
"R. Dangle."
This pleasant letter, Fisher major, raging, carried to the captain.
Yorke pulled a long face when he read it.
"There's no truth in it, surely?" said he.
"I can't answer for any foolery the juniors have been up to; but apart from that, it's a sheer lie, and the fellows deserve to be kicked."
"Much better offer them a new election," said the captain.