First in the Field Part 2

"But, sir--" began Nic.

"How dare you speak, sir, after I have ordered you to be silent! Your half-holiday is cancelled. Back all of you to the Friary; I will see you on my return. Now, my dears, we will resume our walk."

The doctor turned upon his heels, and went off with his ladies talking in a loud voice about botany, the words _Ranunculaceae_ and _Caryophyllaceae_ being plainly heard as he stopped and picked a yellow blossom and a tuft of weed, the young ladies glancing back twice at the boys who had been guilty of so disgraceful a breach of scholastic etiquette as to have their fight take place upon an open common and let it be seen.

Nic stood arranging his jacket and torn-off collar, looking down rather dismally at Green, and wishing that he had not hit him quite so hard; for his adversary was seated upon the gra.s.s where there was no furze, embracing his knees and resting his brow upon them, softly swaying his head from side to side.

Tomlins was the first to speak, for the others were looking after the doctor, and were--especially the two seconds--wondering what the doctor would say when he came back, and how severe their punishment would be.

The fight had done the little dark-eyed fellow good. It was like so much liniment rubbed into his bruise to see the brutal tyrant of the school well thrashed; and feeling that with such a protector as Nic he had no more to fear from Green, he was not above giving expression to his thoughts.

"Never you mind, Nic Braydon," he said. "I shall speak out when the doctor has us up. It wasn't your fault, but bully Gooseberry Green's.

He began it, knocking me about, kicking me--a brute. I shall tell the doctor everything just as it happened."

At this Green raised his face to dart a vindictive, threatening look at the little fellow, but he had not paused to think about the state of his face, which was comic in the extreme, and instead of alarming Tomlins made him forget his lameness more and more, and sent him into a fit of laughter.

"Here, boys, look at Gooseberry's phiz. He seems as if he'd been washing it and left it too long to soak! My! what a swelled head!"

The others joined in the roar of laughter, and Green's face was hidden again directly.

But Nic had not laughed. He was hurt bodily and mentally. There was a feeling of regret, too, uppermost, which made him resent this unseemly mirth as cowardly to a fellow enemy.

"You be quiet, Tomlins!" he cried.

"What for?" retorted the boy. "You haven't been kicked as I have. I shall laugh at Gooseberry if I like. He began it all, and he has got his dose, and serve him right. Here, let's get back. Old Dictionary turned his head just now. I say, Greeny, like to have another kick.

I'm such a little one, I shan't hit you again."

"Wait a bit," muttered Green.

"Oh, certainly; I'm in no hurry. Only you may as well do it when Nic Braydon's here, because he can give you my compliments afterwards, and leave my card in each of your eyes. Poor old chap! I'm so glad you've been licked."

"Will you be quiet, young un!" cried Nic angrily. "It's mean and cowardly."

"Well, that's the stuff he deals in," said Tomlins. "He likes that better than anything else."

"That's no reason why you should," cried Nic. "Let him be, I tell you."

"Oh, all right, I've done; but I suppose I may say I'm very sorry for him."

"No, you _mayn't_," cried Nic. "Here, come on back, Greeny; we've had it out, but we needn't be bad friends. I'm sorry we fought; you'll shake hands, won't you?"

Green made no movement, and Nic drew closer and held out his hand again.

"Come on," he said; "I'm sorry now; shake hands."

But Green did not move. He sat there crouched together, till Tomlins went behind him.

"He's asleep," cried the little fellow. "I'll give him a job like he gave me, and wake him up."

Green spun round upon the bottom of his spine and faced his little tormentor, who started back with a cry of mock alarm.

"Here, hi, Nic!" he shouted. "Hold him back. He's going to bite."

Nic made a rush, not to protect Tomlins, but to seize him and drag him away.

"If you tease him again, I'll kick you too," he whispered. "Let him be; he's beaten. You don't want to hit him now he's down."

"Yes, I do," said the boy, struggling to free himself. "I owe him a lot, and it isn't safe to hit him when he's not down. Oh, I say, don't; you're hurting me."

"Serve you right. Come away."

"Here, boys, help!" cried Tomlins, making a grimace. "Convict's setting up for--Ah!"

He did not have time to finish his sentence, for Nic caught him sharply by the shoulders and gave him an angry shake.

"If you say that again, I'll serve you worse than Green did. No, I won't;" he said in repentance. "There, go on back."

The boy was silenced, and in a startled way joined his schoolfellows, while Nic once more went close up to Green.

"Let me help you up," he said. "Here, shake hands, Green. It was only a fight, and you might have won."

There was no answer, and Nic took his adversary by the arm, half forcing him to rise; but Green did not turn his head, nor raise his face to gaze in that before him, though he unresistingly allowed himself to be helped along the side of the hedge, so as to reach the lane that led to the high road and the village, at one end of which the park-like grounds of the doctor's establishment stood.

"He'll come round soon," thought Nic. "He's sure to feel sore after such a licking."

"I say, isn't old Convict a rum one," whispered one of the boys who had been seconds.

"Well, he always was," said the other. "What do you mean?"

"Why giving Green a licking, and then going to help him like that."

The other boy looked at the battered pair, and let them pa.s.s on in front, following afterwards with the others.

"It's the proper thing to do, isn't it?"

"Yes, with some fellows," said Tomlins, who was listening. "I should do it to either of you chaps if I'd licked you."

The pair looked at each other and laughed.

"Hark at Mouse Tomlins," said one of them.

"Ah, you wait. I shall get bigger some day, and then I shall do just as Convict Braydon does; but I shouldn't to old Green. You see if he don't hit foul before long, and serve poor old Convict out."

"Don't you be so fond of calling him Convict; he doesn't like it," said Braydon's second.

"Well, he shouldn't be a convict then," retorted the boy.

"And you shouldn't be a c.o.c.ky, conceited little donkey," said the elder boy.