Peter Binney Part 9

And so Mr. Binney changed his social aspirations, and wrote long letters to Mrs. Higginbotham describing the acclamations with which he was received when he rose to speak at the Union, and painting in vivid colours the honours paid to the occupant of the President's chair, that chair which had been filled by so many ill.u.s.trious men.

He and M'Gee spoke every Tuesday in that term. M'Gee was intolerably dogmatic, metaphysical and long-winded, always heard the secretary's bell ring before he had half finished his argument, and invariably emptied the house of all but the long-suffering officials whenever he rose to his feet. Mr. Binney as surely filled it. He was a wind-bag, but a wind-bag who delighted his audience in the same way as a monkey on an organ is a source of appreciation not so much for its innate humour as for the unstudied expression of its personality. It was quite true that Mr. Binney roused the applause of the a.s.sembly. The incipient statesmen lolling on the benches or writing notes on their knees or strolling up to have a word with the President in his seat of state, cheered him on, laughed uproariously at his witticisms as well as at his studied and serious periods, and could never have enough of him. It was a long time since any speaker at the Union had amused his audience so well, and he was in the seventh heaven of delight at his popularity until the elections for the officers at the end of the term, when both he and M'Gee stood for the committee, and appeared at the bottom of the list, M'Gee with thirty votes and Mr. Binney with six.

This was a serious blow to him, and he began to realise that he had been looked upon as a buffoon.

But before this other things had happened. Although debarred from the society of those with whom he had at first tried to ally himself, Mr.

Binney had contracted many acquaintanceships with men of his own year and others who did not place the value of their friendship very high.

The boys fresh from school who had come up at the same time as himself looked upon him as a great joke, ate his breakfasts and luncheons and occasional dinners, and asked him to their own in return. As he showed himself anxious to be considered one of themselves, they obliged him, with perhaps more familiarity and slappings on the back than they usually made use of to one another. But Mr. Binney enjoyed it and felt he was getting on famously. He greatly appreciated the tales of daring which freshmen love to tell one another, about exciting runs from avenging Proctors, and smart, one-sided conversations with Deans, in which the freshman is always represented as using such witty and convincing arguments that the Dean can only sit and listen, and is glad to get rid of him at last at any price if he will only allow the management of the college to remain in its present inefficient hands a little longer. Mr. Binney had not as yet emulated any of these deeds of daring, for he still looked upon the authorities with considerable awe, and was turning his attention for the most part towards getting his work ready for the first part of the Littlego and maintaining his reputation at the Union. But he thought them very fine for all that, and it was not long before he fell.

Among his fellow-freshmen was one, Brandon, a Rugby football-player, who had once or twice played for the University. He was not a Blue yet, but he was the next best thing to it, and Mr. Binney cultivated his society in the intervals of his more serious pursuits. Brandon had a friend called Howden who was a Blue, a great, noisy, good-natured, ignorant ox, who was in constant danger of being sent down for his numerous breaches of discipline.

Howden came into Brandon's rooms one morning to fish for a dinner, his affairs being in a chronic state of financial depression. He used no unnecessary finesse in stating his ends.

"I've taken my name off hall to-night," he said, "and don't know where to feed. Got anything going, Brandy?"

"I'm going to dine with Binney," said Brandon. "You'd better come too."

"What! that stuck-up a.s.s!" said Howden. "Didn't know you knew him.

No, thanks. I don't mix with Bloods."

"Oh, I don't mean Lucy Binney," said Brandon, "I don't know him. The bantam's my pal."

"What! that little old man!" exclaimed Howden. "Whatever do you want to go and dine with him for? He'll report you to the dons if you make a row, and I don't care for dining where I can't enjoy myself."

"My dear chap," said Brandon, "you can make as much row as you like.

He'll be all the better pleased. He's a tremendous little sportsman.

He gives you the best fizz and as much as you want of it."

"The deuce he does! All right, I'll come, Brandy. I don't know him.

I suppose that don't matter."

"Not a bit," said Brandon. "I'll make that all right. 19A Jesus Lane, eight o'clock."

"Right you are," said Howden. "Don't forget. I shall turn up."

Mr. Binney was as pleased as Punch when he learnt that he was at last going to be honoured by the company of a Blue, and made an excuse to write a note to Minshull in which he casually mentioned that he was expecting Howden, "who plays back for the 'Varsity," to dinner that night.

Howden came and made himself agreeable to his host. Mr. Binney was delighted to find that such a great man was not inclined to stand on any ceremony. The rest of the party were freshmen, who were also inclined to treat the great Howden with deference, but in the course of the dinner the deference vanished, and the company got hilarious and on perfectly good terms with one another. After dinner they "ragged," and played a little game of "Soccer" with a sofa cushion, in the course of which Mr. Binney got the wind knocked out of his body, and was not sorry when his landlord came up to inform him that the chandelier in the room below had fallen down.

"Let's go round and rag old Tubby Vane," said Howden.

Vane was another football Blue, and lived in college. So the party moved round in a body to the New Court. Vane kept on the third floor, and was out, so his visitors were baffled for the moment.

"There's old Miniken keeps below," said Mr. Binney, who was enjoying himself to the full in this distinguished company. "Let's go and rag _him_."

Miniken was a Union light, a quiet reading man, when he was not thundering forth Radical views in the debates. Mr. Binney did not know him very well, but wished to display the brilliant Howden to his astonished gaze.

"All right," said Howden. "Never heard of him, but I daresay he keeps very good whisky. Come on."

Miniken's oak was sported.

"He's skulking," said Howden. "Let's kick his oak in."

"Hi! Miniken! Come out of that, you old beggar," yelled Mr. Binney; but all was silence.

Howden took a short run and kicked in a panel. Mr. Binney took a short run at the same panel, and got his foot wedged. When he had been extricated with unnecessary violence by his companions, a combined a.s.sault was made upon the oak, which presently gave way. The rooms were empty.

Howden turned up the lights and made a search for something to drink, which was unsuccessful, as Miniken was a teetotaller. Then they "made hay" of his rooms, and, after completely changing their aspect, left, to avoid an interview with a porter who was coming up the staircase to see what the disturbance was about. Mr. Binney never doubted but that Miniken would be quite as amused as themselves when he came back, and not a little flattered at receiving a visit from the august Howden, if he found out who was responsible for the altered appearance of his apartments.

When Miniken did return he was naturally annoyed at the discovery of what had taken place. He obtained from the porter the names of his invaders, and sat down and wrote a letter of complaint to the Senior Dean. Then he put his room to rights and went to bed.

In the meantime Mr. Binney went home, greatly pleased with his evening's entertainment. Before retiring to rest he wrote a full account of it to Mrs. Higginbotham, and expatiated on the popularity that must accrue to him from having made a friend of Howden, who, before parting from him, had a.s.sured him that he was one of the best fellows he had ever met, and that he would stick by him and come and dine with him whenever he liked.

The next day Mr. Binney was requested to call on the Junior Dean at a specified hour. He did so with some inward trepidation, and waited in the ante-room where a secretary was at work, who informed him that the Dean was engaged, but would see him in a few minutes. Presently steps were heard on the staircase, and to his surprise Lucius entered the room.

"Halloa! you hauled too?" said the little man with a sheepish grin.

"What for?"

"I don't know. Chapels, I suppose," said Lucius, who had heard of his father's escapade, and whose face was covered with a deep blush.

"I hope we shan't get gated," said Mr. Binney. "What are you going to say to the old chap?"

Before Lucius had time to reply the Dean's door opened, and Mr. Binney was summoned into the presence of the "old chap," who had been in frocks when "Binney's Food for Poultry" was first becoming known.

"Sit down, Mr. Binney," said the Dean, who appeared unaccountably nervous. "I see you have not kept the requisite number of chapels since the beginning of term. Is there any reason for that? I see by my list that you have not been once to chapel on a Sunday."

Mr. Binney breathed a sigh of relief and drew himself up.

"I prefer to attend my own place of worship on the Sabbath," he said, twisting his cap by the ta.s.sel.

"Ah! you are perhaps a Nonconformist," said the Dean.

"I am," said Mr. Binney; "and I'm not ashamed of it."

"No reason to be, Mr. Binney," said the Dean. "I needn't trouble you any more on that score then," and he made a pencil note on the paper before him. "But there is another matter," he went on, "which, I confess, it surprises me to have to bring before a man of your--er--standing. I understand that you and some others broke in the door of Mr. Miniken's rooms last night, and took most unwarrantable liberties with his furniture. I could hardly believe it, but I am a.s.sured that it is so."

"It was a mere freak, sir," said Mr. Binney boldly. "I went round with Howden--the football Blue----"

"You needn't bring in anybody else's name," said the Dean.

"Well, we went round to call on--on another football Blue, but he was out, and as old Miniken, who is a friend of mine, happened to live below him, I said, 'Let's go and rouse him up.' He was sported, so we kicked in his oak for a lark. We didn't mean any harm. Of course, I'm quite willing to pay for repairing the door."

The Dean pa.s.sed his hand over his mouth.

"That you will have to do, of course, you and the others between you,"

he said. "But I may as well tell you, Mr. Binney, that we don't recognise such larks here. If you want to behave like a troublesome boy, you had better go somewhere else. You are gated at eight for a fortnight, and don't let me hear of any such piece of folly again, or you won't get off so easily."

Mr. Binney took himself off feeling rather ashamed, but still a little pleased with himself. "Gated at eight for a fortnight," he said, as he joined his son in the ante-room, where Blathgowrie had also made his appearance.

"Serve you right, you little a.s.s," said Blathgowrie as Lucius entered the presence chamber. "Now run along and play."