The Fifth Form at Saint Dominic's Part 42

The Doctor walked up to the desk and unfolded his paper.

Wraysford looked furtively across the room to where his old friend sat.

There was a flush in Oliver's face as he followed the Doctor with his eyes; he was breathing hard, Wraysford could see, and the corners of his mouth were working with more than ordinary nervousness.

"Alas!" thought Wraysford, "I don't envy him his thoughts!"

The Doctor began to speak.

"The following are the results of the various examinations held on Monday. English Literature--maximum number of marks 100. 1st, Bullinger, 72 marks; 2nd, West, 68; 3rd, Maybury, 51; 4th, Simon, 23.

I'm afraid, Simon, you were a little too venturesome entering for an examination like this. Your paper was a very poor performance."

Simon groaned and gulped down his astonishment.

"I say," whispered he to Oliver, who sat in front of him, "I know it's a mistake: you know I wrote five cantos about the Shar--good too. He's lost that. I say, had I better tell him?"

Oliver vouchsafing no reply, the unfortunate poet merely replied to the head master's remarks, "Yes, sir," and then subsided, more convinced than ever that Saint Dominic's was not worthy of him.

"The Mathematical Medal--maximum number of marks 80. 1st, Heath, 65; 2nd, Price, 54; 3rd, Roberts, 53. Heath's answers, I may say, were very good, and the examiners have specially commended him."

Heath being a Sixth Form man, this information was absolutely without interest to the Fifth, who wondered why the Doctor should put himself out of the way to announce it.

"The Nightingale Scholars.h.i.+p."

Ah, now! There was a quick stir, and then a deeper silence than ever as the Doctor slowly read out, "The maximum number of marks possible, 120.

First, Greenfield, Fifth Form, 112 marks. And I must say I and the examiners are astonished as well as highly gratified with this really brilliant performance. Greenfield, I congratulate you as well as your cla.s.s-fellows on your success. It does you the very greatest credit!"

A dead silence followed this eulogium. Those who watched Oliver saw his face first glow, then turn pale, as the Doctor spoke. He kept his eyes steadily fixed on the paper in the head master's hand, as if waiting for what was to follow.

The Doctor went on, "Second, Wraysford, Fifth Form, 97 marks, also a creditable performance."

One or two near Wraysford clapped him warmly on the back, and throughout the cla.s.s generally there was a show of satisfaction at this result, in strange contrast with the manner in which the announcement of Oliver's success had been received.

Still, every one was too eager to hear the third and final announcement to disturb the proceedings by any demonstration just now.

"Loman, Sixth Form--" and here the Doctor paused, and knitted his brows.

"Loman, Sixth Form, 70 marks!"

This finally brought down the house. Scarcely was the Doctor's back turned, when a general clamour rose on every hand. He, good man, set it down to applause of the winners, but every one else knew it meant triumph over the vanquished.

"Bravo, Wray! old man. Hurrah for the Fifth!" shouted Bullinger.

"Ninety-seven to seventy. Splendid, old fellow!" cried another.

"I was certain you'd win," said another.

"I have not won," said Wraysford, drily, and evidently not liking these marked congratulations; "I'm second."

"So you are, I quite forgot," said Ricketts: then turning to Oliver, he added, mockingly, "Allow me to congratulate you, Greenfield, on your really brilliant success. 112 marks out of 120! You could hardly have done better if you had seen the paper a day or two before the exam!

Your cla.s.s, I a.s.sure you, are very proud of you."

A general sneer of contempt followed this speech, in the midst of which Oliver, after darting one angry glance at the speaker, deliberately quitted the room.

This proceeding greatly irritated the Fifth, who had hoped at least to make their cla.s.s-fellow smart while they had the opportunity. They greeted his departure now with a general chorus of hissing, and revenged themselves in his absence by making the most of Wraysford.

"Surely the fellow won't be allowed to take the scholars.h.i.+p after this?"

said Ricketts. "The Doctor must see through it all."

"It's very queer if he doesn't," said Bullinger.

"The scholars.h.i.+p belongs to Wray," said Braddy, "and I mean to say it's a blackguard shame if he doesn't get it!"

"It's downright robbery, that's what it is!" said another; "the fellow ought to be kicked out of the school!"

"I vote some one tells the Doctor," said Braddy.

"Suppose you go and tell him now, yourself," said Pembury, with a sarcastic smile; "you could do it capitally. What do you say?"

Braddy coloured. Pembury was always snubbing him.

"I don't want to tell tales," he said. "What I mean is, Wraysford ought not to be cheated out of his scholars.h.i.+p."

"It's a lucky thing Wray has got you to set things right for him,"

snarled Pembury, amid a general t.i.tter.

Braddy subsided at this, and left his tormentor master of the situation.

"There's no use our saying or doing anything," said that worthy. "We shall probably only make things worse. It's sure to come out in time, and till then we must grin and bear it."

"All very well," said some one, "but Greenfield will be grinning too."

"I fancy not," said Pembury. "I'm not a particular angel myself, but I've a notion if I had cheated a schoolfellow I should be a trifle off my grinning form; I don't know."

This modest confession caused some amus.e.m.e.nt, and helped a good deal to restore the cla.s.s to a better humour.

"After all, I don't envy the fellow his feelings this minute," continued Pembury, following up his advantage.

"And I envy his prospects in the Fifth still less," said Ricketts.

"If you take my advice," said Pembury, "you'll leave him pretty much to himself. Greenfield is a sort of fellow it's not easy to score off; and some of you would only make fools of yourselves if you tried to do it."

Wraysford had stood by during this conversation, torn by conflicting emotions. He was undoubtedly bitterly disappointed to have missed the scholars.h.i.+p; but that was as nothing to the knowledge that it was his friend, his own familiar friend, who had turned against him and thus grievously wronged him. Yet with all his sense of injury he could hardly stand by and listen to all the bitter talk about Oliver in his absence without a sense of shame. Two days ago he would have flared up at the first word, and given the rash speaker something to remember.

Now it was his misery to stand by and hear his old chum abused and despised, and to feel that he deserved every word that was spoken of him!

If he could only have found one word to say on his behalf!

But he could not, and so left the room as soon as it was possible to escape, and retired disconsolately to his own study.