The Fifth Form at Saint Dominic's Part 37

But at its best the offence was a grave one, and Oliver more than once felt anxious at the sight of the head master's long face during the narrative. However, when it was all over his fears were at once dispelled by the doctor saying, "Well, Greenfield, you've done a very proper thing in telling me all this; it is a straightforward as well as a brotherly act. Your brother seems to have been very foolish, but I have no doubt he has got a lesson. You had better send him to me after morning service."

And so, much relieved, Oliver went off and reported to the grateful Stephen the success of his mission, and the two boys went off to the school chapel together a good deal more happy than they had been the previous day.

"I say," said Stephen, as they went along, "I suppose you didn't say anything about Loman, did you?"

"Of course not! he's no concern of mine," said Oliver, rather tartly.

"But look here, young 'un, I'm not going to let you f.a.g any more for him, or have anything to do with him."

"All right!" said Stephen, who had no desire to continue his acquaintance with his late "proprietor."

"But the captain will row me, won't he?"

"If he does I'll make that square. You can f.a.g for Wraysford if you like, though, he wants a fellow."

"Oh, all right!" cried Stephen, delighted, "that'll be jolly! I like old Wray."

"Very kind of you," said a voice close by.

It was Wraysford himself, who had come in for this very genuine compliment.

"Hullo! I say, look here, Wraysford," said the beaming Stephen, "I'm going to cut Loman and f.a.g for you. Isn't it jolly?"

"Depends on whether I have you. I don't want any Guinea-pigs in my study, mind."

Stephen's face fell. For even such a privilege as f.a.gging for Wraysford he could not afford to sever the sacred ties which held him to the fellows.h.i.+p of the Guinea-pigs. "I really wouldn't kick-up s.h.i.+nes," said he, imploringly.

"You'd be a queer Guinea-pig if you didn't!" was the flattering answer.

"And how many times a week would you go on strike, eh?"

"Oh!" said Stephen, "I'll never go on strike again; I don't like it."

The two friends laughed at this ingenuous admission, and then Wraysford said, "Well, I'll have you; but mind, I'm awfully particular, and knock my f.a.gs about tremendously, don't I, Noll?"

"I don't mind that," said the delighted Stephen. "Besides, you've not had a f.a.g to knock about!"

At that moment, however, the bell for morning chapel cut short all further talk for the present. Stephen obeyed its summons for once in a subdued and thankful frame of mind. Too often had those weekly services been to him occasions of mere empty form, when with his head full of school worries or school fun he had scarcely heard, much less heeded, what was said.

To-day, however, it was different. Stephen was a sobered boy. He had pa.s.sed through perils and temptations from which, if he had escaped, it had been through no merit of his own. Things might have been far different. His life had been saved, so had his peace of mind, and now even the consequences of old transgressions had been lightened for him.

What had he done to deserve all this?

This was the question which the boy humbly asked himself as he entered the chapel that morning, and the Doctor's sermon fitted well with his altered frame of mind.

It was a sermon such as he had often heard before in that chapel; the words struck him now with a new force which almost startled him.

"Forgetting those things which are behind--reaching forth unto those things which are before,"--this was the Doctor's text, and in the few simple words in which he urged his hearers to lay the past, with all its burdens, and disappointments, and shame, upon Him in whom alone forgiveness is to be found, Stephen drank in new courage and hope for the future, and in the thankfulness and penitence of his heart resolved to commit his way more honestly than ever to the best of all keeping, compared with which even a brother's love is powerless.

Before the morning was over Stephen duly went to the Doctor, who talked to him very seriously. I need not repeat the talk here. Stephen was very penitent, and had the good sense to say as little as possible; but when it was all over he thanked the Doctor gratefully, and promised he should never have to talk to him for bad conduct again.

"You must thank your brother for my not dealing a great deal more severely with the case," said Dr Senior; "and I am quite ready to believe it will not occur again. Now, good-bye."

And off Stephen went, the happiest boy alive, determined more than ever to respect the Doctor's authority, and prove himself a model boy.

Sunday afternoon at Saint Dominic's was usually spent by the boys in fine weather, in strolling about in the gardens, or rambling into the woods by the banks of the Shar.

This afternoon, however, was somewhat overcast, and a good many of the boys consequently preferred staying indoors to running the risk of spoiling their best hats in a shower. Among those who kept the house was Oliver, who, in reply to Wraysford's invitation to go out, pleaded that he was not in the humour.

This indeed was the case, for, now that Stephen's affairs were settled, the dread of the approaching Nightingale examination came back over him like a nightmare, and made him quite miserable. The nearer the hour of trial came the more convinced did Oliver become that he stood no chance whatever of winning, and with that conviction all the bright hopes of a university course, and the prospects of after-success, seemed extinguished.

Of course it was very ridiculous of him to worry himself into such a state, but then, reader, he had been working just a little too hard, and it was hardly his fault if he was ridiculous.

Wraysford, though by no means in high spirits, kept his head a good deal better, and tried to enjoy his walk and forget all about books, as if nothing at all was going to happen to-morrow. As for Loman, he was not visible from morning till night, and a good many guessed, and guessed correctly, that he was at work, even on Sunday.

The small boys, not so much though, I fear, out of reverence for the day as for partisans.h.i.+p of the Fifth, were very indignant on the subject, and held a small full-dress meeting after tea, to protest against one of the candidates taking such an unfair advantage over the others.

"He ought to be expelled!" exclaimed Paul.

"All very well," said Bramble. "Greenfield senior's cramming too, he's been in all the afternoon."

"He's not cramming, he's got a headache!" said Stephen.

"Oh, yes, I dare say, don't you, Padger? Got a headache--that's a nice excuse for copying out of cribs on a Sunday."

"He doesn't use cribs, and I tell you he's not working!" said Stephen, indignantly.

"Shut up, do you hear, or you'll get turned out, Potboy!"

This was too much for Stephen, who left the a.s.sembly in disgust, after threatening to take an early opportunity on the next day of giving his adversary "one for himself," a threat which we may as well say at once here he did not fail to carry out with his wonted energy.

The long Sunday ended at last--a Sunday spoiled to many of the boys of Saint Dominic's by distracting thoughts and cares--a day which many impatiently wished over, and which some wished would never give place to the morrow.

But that morrow came at last, and with it rose Oliver, strengthened and hopeful once more for the trial that lay before him. He was early at Wraysford's study, whom he found only just out of bed.

"Look alive, old man. What do you say to a dip in the river before breakfast? We've got plenty of time, and it will wash off the cobwebs before the exam."

"All serene," said Wraysford, not very cheerily, though. "Anything's better than doing nothing."

"Why, Wray, I thought you weren't going to let yourself get down about it?"

"I thought you weren't going to let yourself get up--why, you're quite festive this morning."

"Well, you see, a fellow can't do better than his best, and so as I have done my best I don't mean to punish myself by getting in the blues."

"Pity you didn't make that resolution yesterday. You were awfully glum, you know, then; and now I've got my turn, you see."

"Oh, never mind, a plunge in the Shar will set you all right."

"Stee," said he, addressing his younger brother, who at that moment entered proudly in his new capacity as Wraysford's f.a.g, "mind you have breakfast ready sharp by eight, do you hear? the best you can get out of Wray's cupboard. Come along, old boy."

And so they went down to the river, Oliver in unusually good spirits, and Wraysford most unusually depressed and nervous. The bathe was not a great success, for Wraysford evidently did not enjoy it.