Louis' School Days Part 24

"Indeed," said the gentleman, looking at Reginald, and then following the jerk of the guard's thumb at Louis; "perhaps you will share your fly with my son?" Reginald replied that they would be most happy. The gentleman thanked him, and turning to his little boy, who was hugging his youngest sister at the moment, said cheerfully, "Well, Charles, this is pleasant; here are some school-fellows already. You will have time to make friends before you reach the doctor's. Come, my boy."

Charles had burst into a torrent of fresh tears, and sobbing his "Good-byes," got into the coach very quickly.

"Come, come, you mustn't be a baby," said his father, squeezing both his hands; and he shut the coach door himself.

"Good-bye, Charlie," said the little girls.

"Good-bye, master Charles," said the servants.

"I shall be so glad when Christmas comes," sobbed the little one.

The coach rolled away, amid the adieus and blessings poured on the disconsolate boy, who watched his home eagerly as long as he could see it. There they were all--father, sisters, and servants, watching at the gate till the coach was out of sight. For some time, Louis did not attempt to console his new companion, who threw himself into the opposite corner, and burying his face in his handkerchief, sobbed pa.s.sionately, without any effort at self-control. At length, the violence of his grief abating, Louis gently spoke to him, asking if he had ever been away from home before. At first, Charles was very reserved, and only answered Louis' questions; but by degrees his sobs decreased, and from declaring that he could not see the reason of his being sent away from home, he at last talked freely to Louis of his father, sisters, and home; and asked Louis of his. Louis was ready enough to enlarge on these topics, and entered into an enthusiastic description of home and its pleasures, and before they had reached their journey's end, they had become very good friends.

Charles had informed Louis that his father was a clergyman, and that his home was the parsonage house; and enlarged very much on the pleasure of being taught by his father. There was something in his manner of expressing himself that often surprised Louis, and made him think that he must be older than he appeared. Before they reached Bristol, they had agreed to be "great friends," and to help each other as much as possible.

Charles had evidently been very carefully brought up, and Louis found that they had many things in common. They decided to be companions on Sunday, and to be together whenever they could.

Between seven and eight o'clock, the coach stopped in Bristol, where Reginald joined his brother; and after a few minutes spent in taking a hasty tea, the three boys were consigned to a suitable conveyance, and drove on to Dr. Wilkinson's.

Reginald had a mortal aversion to tears in any boy but Louis, and had consequently taken an antipathy to his new school-fellow, besides caring very little about so small a boy. He was just civil to him, and his manner bringing out all Charles's shyness, he became very silent, and scarcely any thing was said during the ride from Bristol to Ashfield House.

It would be of little use describing the interesting appearance that Ashfield House presented when the three young gentlemen arrived there.

Such descriptions are generally skipped; consequently, I leave it to my reader's imagination to picture how romantic the edifice looked, with the last faint yellow daylight glowing on its front, and the first few stars peeping out on the green park.

Our young gentlemen, be a.s.sured, noticed nothing but the very dismal impression that they were once more at school. Inquiring if the doctor were to be seen, they were informed that he was expected in a few minutes, as it was nearly prayer-time; and accordingly Reginald marshalled the way without a word to the school-room. There was no one in the hall or school-room, but a murmur from the half-open door of the adjoining cla.s.s-room drew them in that direction. The room was nearly full, for besides the first and second cla.s.ses there were many belonging to the third cla.s.s, and one or two others who had either arrived late, or taken advantage of the little additional license given the first few days to stay beyond their usual bedtime. It was too dark to distinguish faces, but the figure of Frank Digby, who had managed with great pains to climb the mantelpiece, and was delivering an oration, would have been unmistakable if even he had been silent;--who but Frank Digby could have had spirit to do it the third night after the opening of the school?

"Gentlemen and ladies," began the merry-andrew; "I beg your pardon, the Lady Louisa not having arrived, and Miss Maria Matheson being in bed, I ought to have omitted that term--but, gentlemen, I take this opportunity, gentlemen, the opportunity of the eleventh demi-anniversary of our delightful reunion.

Gentlemen, I am aware that some of you have not been fortunate enough to see eleven, but some among us have seen more. I, gentlemen, have seen eleven at this auspicious moment. I may say it is the proudest moment of my life to be able to stand on this mantelpiece and look down on you all, to feel myself enrolled a member of such an august corps. I may say I feel myself elevated at this present moment, but as, gentlemen, there is no saying, in the precarious situation I am now placed, how long I may be in a position to contemplate the elegance of his majesty and court, I hasten to propose that his majesty's health be eaten in plum-cake, and that if I fall somebody will catch me.

"With kind regards to all, "Believe me your attached school-fellow, "FRANK DIGBY."

A little on one side of the fireplace, which was not far from the open window, Trevannion was leaning back in a chair that he had tipped on the hind legs till the back touched the wall behind him, his own legs being stretched out on another poised in like manner on the two side legs; this elegant and easy att.i.tude being chosen partly for the convenience of speaking to Salisbury, who was nicely balanced on the window-sill, eating plum-cake. As the young gentleman concluded his delectable harangue, he made an involuntary leap from his narrow pedestal, plunging on the top of Trevannion's legs, and, tumbling over him, struck with some violence against Salisbury, who was thrown out of the window by the same concussion that brought his more fastidious compeer to the ground, chairs and all. There was a burst of merriment at this unexpected catastrophe, but nothing could exceed the mirth of the author of the mischief, who sat in unextinguishable laughter on the floor, to the imminent danger of his person when the enraged sufferers recovered their legs.

[Ill.u.s.tration: The finale to Digby's speech.]

"Really! Digby," exclaimed Trevannion, angrily, "this foolery is unbearable. You deserve that we should give you a thrashing; if it were not beneath me, I most certainly would."

"You--ha! ha!" returned Frank: "ha! ha!--you must stoop to--ha! ha!--you must stoop to conquer--for, oh! oh! I can't get up. Pardon me, my dear fellow, but--oh! ha! ha!--you did look so ridiculous."

"Get up, you grinning donkey!" said Salisbury, who, in spite of his wrath, could not help laughing.

"Trevannion's legs!" exclaimed Frank, in a choking fit of laughter.

"Get up, Digby," exclaimed Trevannion, kicking him; "or I'll shake some of this nonsense out of you."

"Do be rational, Frank," said Hamilton's voice from a corner; "you are like a great baby."

How long Frank might have sat on the floor, and what direful events might have transpired, I cannot pretend to say, for just at this juncture the further door opened, and Dr. Wilkinson entered, bearing a candle in his hand. Frank very speedily found his legs, and retired into a corner to giggle unseen. The light thus suddenly introduced brought Reginald and his brother into notice, and one or two near the door recognizing them, pressed forward to speak to them, and before the doctor had fairly attained his place, Reginald had run the gauntlet of welcomes through all his school-fellows--and Louis, half-way on the same errand, was forcibly arrested by something scarcely short of an embrace from Hamilton, who expressed himself as surprised as pleased at his appearance, and in whose glistening eyes, as well as the friendly looks of those around, Louis experienced some relief from the almost insupportable sense of dulness that had oppressed him ever since his entrance into the house. But now, the doctor having opened his book, the young gentlemen were obliged to separate and form into their places.

Hamilton kept Louis by him, and Louis beckoned the sorrowful little boy who had accompanied him towards them.

"Who is that?" asked the doctor, as the child moved shyly towards Louis.

"A new boy, sir," said one.

"What is your name?" said the doctor. "Come here. Oh! I see, it is Clifton, is it not?--how do you do?"

Charles had reached Dr. Wilkinson by this time, and, encouraged by his kind tone, and the sympathizing though slightly quizzical gaze on his very tearful face, replied to his queries in a low, quick tone.

"When did you come?" asked the doctor.

"He came with us, sir," said Reginald, stepping forward.

"Mortimer here!" said the doctor. "How do you do? and Louis, too, I presume--where is he? I am very glad to see you again," he added, as Louis came forward with a blushing but not miserable countenance.

He then spoke to the other new-comers, and then, commanding silence, read prayers.

The young gentlemen were just retiring, when Dr. Wilkinson desired them to stay a moment--"I have one request to make, young gentlemen," he said, gravely; "that is, I particularly wish when Mr. Ferrers returns that no allusion be made to any thing gone by, and that you treat him as one worthy to be among you."

The doctor paused as he spoke, and glanced along the row of faces, many of which looked sullen and cloudy: most of them avoided their master's eye, and looked intently on the ground. Dr. Wilkinson sought Hamilton's eye, but Hamilton, though perfectly conscious of the fact, was very busily engaged in a deep meditation on the texture of Louis'

jacket.

"Hamilton."

"Sir," replied Hamilton, reluctantly raising his eyes.

"I look to you, as the head of the school, to set the example. I am grieved to see so little Christian spirit among you. Why should you feel more aggrieved than the injured party, who has, I am sure, heartily forgiven all, and will wish no further notice to be taken of what has pa.s.sed?"

Louis looked up acquiescently, and slipped his hand into Hamilton's.

A slight pressure was returned, and Hamilton, bowing to the doctor, led the way out of the room.

On the way up stairs many rebellious comments were made on the doctor's speech, and some invoked tremendous penalties on themselves if they had any thing to do with him or any like him. Hamilton was quite silent, neither checking nor exciting the malcontents. He put his hand into Louis' arm, and, walking up stairs with him, wished him a warm good-night, and marched off to his own apartment.

This evening, as there were one or two new-comers, an usher was present in the dormitory to insure the orderly appropriation of the several couches; and, to Louis' great satisfaction, he was able to get quietly into bed--where, feeling very dull and sad, he covered his head over and unconsciously performed a crying duet with his new friend.

Hardly had the usher departed than Frank Digby popped his head out of bed:

"I don't know," said he, "whether any one expects a feast to-night, from a few unlucky remarks which fell from me this morning; if so, gentlemen, I wish immediately to dispel the pleasing delusion, a.s.suring you of the melancholy fact, that my golden pippins have fallen victims to Gruffy's rapacity."

"Oh, what a shame!" exclaimed one.

"What's that, Frank?" said Reginald.

"How did Gruffy get hold of them?" asked Meredith: "I thought you were more than her match."

"Why, the fact is, her olfactory nerves becoming strongly excited, she insisted upon having a search, and after snuffing about, she came near my hiding-place, and found the little black portmanteau:

"'Upon my word, Mr. Digby,' said she, 'I am surprised at your dirtiness--putting apples under your pillow!' and insisted on having the key or the apples. I disclaimed all ideas of apples, but quite failed in persuading her that I had Russian leather-covered books inside, that were placed there to enable me to pursue my studies at the first dawn of day. You should have heard her: 'Did I suppose she was an idiot, and couldn't smell apples!' and oh--n.o.body knows how much more. But I should have carried my point if ill-luck hadn't brought Fudge in the way, and the harpy carried off my treasures."

Frank paused, and then added, in a tone that set every one laughing, "It's a pity she can't be transported into heathen mythology; she'd have made an excellent dragon. Hercules would never have been so successful if she'd been that of Hesperia. I'll be even with her yet; but there's something very forlorn in one's troubles beginning directly."

The next morning brought with it the stern reality of school. Louis was dreaming that he was in Dashwood with Charles Clifton, when the bell-man came into the breakfast-room, crying out that the golden pippins belonging to his attached school-fellow, Frank Digby, were lost, stolen, or strayed; and that he would be even with any who should find them, and bring them to the Hesperides; and he was in the act of proving, more to his own satisfaction than to that of the bell-man, that the books in the library were what he wanted, when Reginald discovered them,--i.e., the golden apples,--peeping from under his pillow, and shook him violently for his deceit.