Eric, or Little by Little Part 31

"It's a great bore in the weekly examinations," said Vernon; "every now and then Gordon will even leave the room for a few minutes, and then out come dozens of books."

"Well, Wright," said Montagu, "if that happens again next examination, I'd speak out about it."

"How?"

"Why, I'd get every fellow who disapproves of it to give me his name, and get up and read the list, and say that you at least have pledged yourselves not to do it."

"Humph! I don't know how that would answer. They'd half kill me for one thing."

"Never mind; do your duty. I wish I'd such an opportunity, if only to show how sorry I am for my own past unfairness."

And so talking, the four went in, and the two elder went to their study.

It was too true that drinking had become a common vice at Roslyn School.

Accordingly, when Eric came in with Wildney about half an hour after, Owen and Montagu heard them talk about ordering some brandy, and then arrange to have a "jollification," as they called it, that evening.

They got the brandy through "Billy." One of Brigson's most cursed legacies to the school was the introduction of this man to a nefarious intercourse with the boys. His character was so well-known that it had long been forbidden, under the strictest penalty, for any boy ever to speak to him; yet, strange to say, they seemed to take a pleasure in doing so, and just now particularly, it was thought a fine thing, a sign of "pluck" and "anti-m.u.f.fishness," to be on familiar and intimate terms with that degraded and villainous scoundrel.

Duncan had made friends again with Eric; but he did not join him in his escapades and excesses, and sat much in other studies. He had not been altogether a good boy, but yet there was a sort of rough honesty and good sense in him which preserved him from the worst and most dangerous failings, and his character had been gradually improving as he mounted higher in the school. He was getting steadier, more diligent, more thoughtful, more manly; he was pa.s.sing through that change so frequent in boys as they grow older, to which Eric was so sad an exception.

Accordingly Duncan, though sincerely fond of Eric, had latterly disapproved vehemently of his proceedings, and had therefore taken to snubbing his old friend Wildney, in whose favour Eric seemed to have an infatuation, and who was the means of involving him in every kind of impropriety and mischief. So that night Duncan, hearing of what was intended, sat in the next study, and Eric, with Ball, Wildney, Graham, and Pietrie, had the room to themselves. Several of them were lower boys still, but they came up to the studies after bed-time, according to Wildney's almost nightly custom.

A little pebble struck the study window.

"Hurrah!" said Wildney, clapping his hands, "here's the grub."

They opened the window and looked out. Billy was there, and they let down to him a long piece of cord, to which he attached a basket, and, after bidding them "Good-night, and a merry drink," retired. No sooner had they shut the window, than he grimaced as usual towards them, and shook his fist in a sort of demoniacal exultation, muttering, "Oh, I'll have you all under my thumb yet, you fine young fools!"

Meanwhile the unconscious boys had opened the basket, and spread its contents on the table. They were bread, b.u.t.ter, a large dish of sausages, a tart, beer, and, alas! a bottle of brandy.

They soon got very noisy, and at last uproarious. The s.n.a.t.c.hes of songs, peals of laughter, and rattle of plates at last grew so loud that the other study-boys were afraid lest one of the masters should come up and catch the revellers. All of them heard every word that was spoken by Eric and his party, as the walls between the rooms were very thin; and very objectionable much of the conversation was.

"This _won't_ do," said Duncan emphatically, after a louder burst of merriment than usual; "those fellows are getting drunk; I can tell it to a certainty from the confused and random way, in which some of them are talking."

"We'd better go in and speak to them," said Montagu; "at any rate, they've no right to disturb us all night. Will you come?"

"I'll join you," said Owen; "though I'm afraid my presence won't do you much good."

The three boys went to the door of Eric's study and their knock could not at first be heard for the noise. When they went in they found a scene of reckless disorder; books were scattered about, plates and gla.s.ses lay broken on the floor, beer was spilt on all sides, and there was an intolerable smell of brandy.

"If you fellows don't take care," said Duncan sharply, "Rose or somebody'll be coming up and catching you. It's ten now."

"What's that to you?" answered Graham, with an insolent look.

"It's something to me that you nice young men have been making such a row that none of the rest of us can hear our own voices, and that between you you've made this study in such a mess that I can't endure it."

"Pooh!" said Pietrie; "we're all getting such saints, that one can't have the least bit of spree nowadays."

"Spree!" burst in Montagu indignantly; "fine spree--to make sots of yourselves with spirits; fine spree to--"

"Amen!" said Wildney, who was perched on the back of a chair; and he turned up his eyes and clasped his hands with a mock-heroic air.

"There, Williams," continued Montagu, pointing to the mischievous-looking little boy; "see that spectacle, and be ashamed of yourself, if you can. That's what you lead boys to! Are you anxious to become the teacher of drunkenness?"

In truth, there was good ground for his sorrowful apostrophe, for the scene was very painful to a high-minded witness.

They hardly understood the look on Eric's countenance; he had been taking far more than was good for him; his eyes sparkled fiercely, and though as yet he said nothing, he seemed to be resenting the intrusion in furious silence.

"How much longer is this interesting lecture to last?" asked Ball, with his usual insufferable tone; "for I want to finish my brandy."

Montagu rather looked as if he intended to give the speaker a box on the ear; but he was just deciding that he wasn't worth the trouble, when Wildney, who had been grimacing all the time, burst into a fit of satirical laughter.

"Here, Wildney," said Graham; "just hand me _The Whole Duty of Man_, or something of that sort, from the shelf, will you? That's a brick."

"Certainly. Let's see; Watts's Hymns; _I_ bag those for myself," said Wildney; "they'll just suit--"

"How doth the little--"

"Let's turn out these impudent lower-school fellows," said Montagu, speaking to Duncan. "Here! you go first," he said, seizing Wildney by the arm, and giving him a swing, which, as he was by no means steady on his legs, brought him sprawling to the ground, and sent Watts's Hymns flying open-leaved under the table.

"By Jove, I won't stand this any longer," shouted Eric, springing up ferociously. "What on earth do you mean by daring to come in like this?

Do you hear?"

Montagu took no sort of notice of his threatening gesture, for he was looking to see if Wildney was hurt, and finding he was not, proceeded to drag him out, struggling and kicking frantically.

"Drop me, you fellow, drop me, I say. I won't go for you," cried Wildney, clinging tight to a chair. "Eric, why do you let him bully me?"

"You let him go this minute," repeated Eric hoa.r.s.ely.

"I shall do no such thing. You don't know what you're about."

"Don't I? Well then, take _that_, to show whether I do or no!" And suddenly leaning forward, he struck Montagu a violent back-handed blow on the mouth.

Everybody saw it, everybody heard it; and it instantly astounded them into silence. That Montagu should have been so struck in public, and that by Eric--by a boy who had been his schoolfellow for three years now, and whose whole life seemed bound to him by so many a.s.sociations; it was strange and sad indeed.

Montagu sprang straight upright; for an instant he took one stride towards his striker with lifted hand and lightening eyes, while the blood started to his lips in consequence of the blow. But he stopped suddenly, and his hand fell to his side; by a strong effort of self-control he contrived to master himself; and sitting down quite quietly on a chair, he put his white handkerchief to his wounded mouth, and took it away stained with blood.

No one spoke; and rising with quiet dignity, he went back into his study without a word.

"Very well," said Duncan; "you may all do as you like; only I heartily hope now you will be caught. Come, Owen."

"O Williams," said Owen, "you are changed indeed, to treat your best friend so."

But Eric was excited with drink, and the slave of every evil pa.s.sion at that moment. "Serve him right," he said; "what business has he to interfere with what I choose to do?"

There was no more noise that night. Wildney and the rest slunk off ashamed and frightened, and Eric, leaving his candle flaring on the table, went down to his bedroom, where he was very sick. He had neither strength nor spirit to undress, and flung himself into bed just as he was. When they heard that he was gone, Owen and Duncan (for Montagu was silent and melancholy) went into his study, put out the candle, and only just cleared away, to the best of their power, the traces of the carouse, when Dr Rowlands came up stairs on his usual nightly rounds.

They had been lighting brown paper to take away the fumes of the brandy, and the Doctor asked them casually the cause of the smell of burning.

Neither of them answered, and seeing Owen there, in whom he placed implicit trust, the Doctor thought no more about it.