St. Winifred's Part 31

"I've as much right to speak--if this is meant for a school meeting--as Kenrick or any one else; and what I have to say is this: Kenrick has been merely throwing dust into your eyes, misleading you altogether about the true state of the case. It's all very fine, and very easy for him to talk so lightly of its being 'a joke,' and 'a bit of fun,' and so on; but I should like to ask him whether he believes that? and whether he's not just hunting for popularity, and mixing up with it a few private spites? and whether he's not thoroughly ashamed of himself at this moment? There! you may see that he is," continued Henderson, pointing at him; "see how he is blushing scarlet, and looking the very picture of degradation."

Here Kenrick started up and most irascibly informed Henderson that he wasn't going to sit there and be slanged by him, and that as he was in the chair, he would not let Henderson go on any more unless he cut short his abuse; and while Kenrick was saying this, in which he entirely carried the meeting with him, Power again whispered, "You're getting too personal, Flip; but go on, only say no more about Kenrick--though I'm afraid it's all true."

"Well, at any rate, I will say this," continued Henderson, whose flow of words was rather stopped by his having been pulled up so often--"and I ought to know, for I was in the room at the time, and I appeal to Anthony and Franklin, and all the rest of the dormitory, to say if it isn't true. It _wasn't_ a joke. It wasn't _meant_ for a joke. It was a piece of deliberate, diabolical--"

"Oh! oh! oh!" began a few of Harpour's claqueurs, and the chorus was again swelled by a score of others.

"I repeat it--of deliberate, diabolical cruelty, chosen just because there was nothing more cruel they dared to do. And," he said, speaking at the top of his voice, to make himself heard over the clamour, "the fellows who did it are a disgrace to Saint Winifred's, and they deserve to be caned by the monitors, if any fellows ever did."

He sat down amid a storm of disapprobation, but his look never quailed for an instant, as he glanced steadily round, and noticed how Kenrick, though in favour with the mult.i.tude, and so much higher in the school, did not venture to meet his eye. And he was more than compensated for the general disfavour, by feeling Power's hand rest on his shoulder, and hearing him whisper, "That's _famous_, Flip; you're a dear plucky fellow. Walter himself couldn't have done it more firmly."

Then Belial-like, rose Mackworth, perfectly at his ease, intending as much general mischief as lay in his power, and bent on saying as many unpleasant things as he could. In this, however, his benevolent views were materially frustrated by Henderson, who made his contemptuous comments in a tone sufficiently loud to be heard by many, and quite distinctly enough to disconcert Mackworth's oratory.

"As the gentleman who has just sat down has poured so many bottles of wrath--"

"Bottles of French varnish," suggested Henderson--"on our heads generally, I must be allowed to make a few remarks in reply. His speech consisted of nothing but rabid abuse; without a shred of argument."--"Rabid fact without a shred of fudge," interpolated Henderson.

"If for every trifling freak fellows were to be telling the monitors, we had better inaugurate at once the era of sneaks and cowards."

"Era of sham polish and fiddlestick ends," echoed Henderson; and Mackworth, who had every intention of making a very flourishing speech, was so disconcerted by this unwonted pruning of his periods, that he somewhat abruptly sat down, muttering anathemas on Henderson, and fl.u.s.tered quite out of his usual bland manner.

"Something has been said about cowardice and sneaking," said Whalley, getting up. "I should like to know whether you think it more cowardly to fight a fellow twice one's size, and to mark him pretty considerably too" (a remark which Whalley unceremoniously emphasised by pointing at Harpour's black eye), "or to lay a plot to frighten in the dark a mere child, very nervous and very timid, who has never harmed any one in his life."

Next, Howard Tracy, addressing the meeting, running his hand occasionally through his hair, "would put the question on a different footing altogether. As to what had been done to Eden, he stood on neutral ground, and gave no opinion. But who, he asked, were these monitors that they should thrash _any one at all_? He had never heard that they were of particularly good families, or that they had anything whatever which gave them a claim to interfere with other fellows. The question was, whether a parcel of monitors were to domineer over the school?"

"The question was nothing of the kind!" said Franklin very bluntly; "it was, whether big bullies, like Harpour, were to be at perfect liberty to frighten fellows into idiots or beat them into mummies, at their own will and pleasure? That was the only question. Harpour or Somers-- bullies or monitors--which will you have, boys?"

And after this arose a perfect hubbub of voices. Some got up and ridiculed the monitors; others extolled Harpour, and tried to make out that he was misused for being called to account for a mere frolic; others taunted Evson and Henderson with a conspiracy against their private enemies. On the whole, they were nearly unanimous in agreeing that the school should prevent the monitors from any exercise of their authority.

And then, in the midst of the hubbub, Power rose, "in act more graceful," and there was an immediate and general call for silence. To the great majority of the boys, Power was hardly known except by name and by sight; but his school successes, his rare ability, his stainless character, and many personal advantages, commanded for him the highest admiration. His numerous slight acquaintances in the school all liked his pleasant and playful courtesy, and were proud to know him; his few friends entertained for him an almost extravagant affection. His ancient name, his good family, and the respect due to his high position in the school, would alone have been sufficient to gain him a favourable hearing; but, besides this, he had hitherto come forward so little, that there was a strong curiosity to see what line he would take, and how he would be able to speak. There were indeed a few who were most anxious to silence him as quickly as possible, knowing what effect his words would be likely to produce; and when he began, they raised several noisy interruptions; but Kenrick, for very shame, was obliged at first to demand for him the attention which, after the first sentence or two, his quiet, conciliatory, and persuasive manner effectually secured.

Reviewing the whole tumultuary discussion, he began by answering Kenrick. After alluding to the long course of bullying which had been ended in this manner, he appealed to the common sense of the meeting whether the thing could be regarded as a mere joke, when they remembered Eden's tender age and highly susceptible nature? Was it not certain, and must it not have been obvious to the bullies, that serious, if not desperately dangerous results _must_ follow? What those results had been was well-known, and in describing what he had seen of them in the sickroom only half an hour before, Power made a warm appeal to their feelings of pity and indignation--an appeal which every one felt to be manly, and which could not fail of being deeply touching, because it was both simple and natural.

"Then," said Power, "the next speaker talked about sneaking and cowardice. Well, those charges had been sufficiently answered by Whalley, and, indeed, on behalf of his friends Evson and Henderson, he perhaps need hardly condescend to answer them at all. His friend Henderson had been long enough among them to need no defence, and if he _did_, it would be sufficiently supplied by the high courage, of which they had just seen a specimen. As for Evson, any boy who had given as many proofs of honour and manliness as _he_ had done during his two terms at Saint Winifred's, certainly required no one's shield to be thrown over _him_. Would any of them show their courage by walking across the Razor on some dark foggy winter's night? and would they find in the school any other fellow of Evson's age who would not shrink from standing up in a regular fair fight with another of twice his own strength and size? Those charges he thought he might throw to the winds; he was sure that no one believed them; but there was, he admitted, one cowardice of which his two friends had often been guilty, and it was a cowardice for which they need not blush; he meant the cowardice, the arrant, the n.o.ble cowardice of being afraid _not_ to do what they thought right, and of being afraid to do what they _knew_ to be base and wrong."

In these remarks Power quite carried his audience away with him; the strain was of a higher mood than boys had often heard from boys, and it was delivered with an eloquence and earnestness that raised a continuous applause. This, however, Power checked by going on speaking until he was obliged to stop and take breath; but _then_ it burst out in the most unmistakable and enthusiastic manner, and entirely drowned the few and timid counter-demonstrations of the Jones and Mackworth school.

"Now I have detained you too long," said Power, "and I apologise for it (Go on! go on! shouted the boys); but as so _many_ have spoken on the other side, and so few on this, perhaps you will excuse me (Yes, yes!) Well, then, Tracy has asked, 'Who are the monitors? and what right have they to interfere?' I answer, that the monitors are our schoolfellows, and are simply representatives of the most mature form of public school opinion. They have all been lower boys; they have all worked their way up to the foremost place; they are, in short, the oldest, the cleverest, the strongest, and the wisest among us; And their right depends on an authority voluntarily delegated to them by the masters, by our parents, and by ourselves--a right originally founded on justice and common sense, and venerable by very many years of prestige and of success. At any rate, a fellow who behaves as Harpour has done, has the _least_ right to complain of this exercise of a higher authority. If he had a right--and he has no right except brute strength, if that be a right--to bully, beat, torment, and perhaps injure for life a poor little inoffensive child, and by doing so to render the name of the school infamous, I maintain that the monitors, who have the interest of the school most at heart, who are ranged _ex officio_ on the side of truth, of justice, and of honour, have infinitely more right to thrash him for it. Supposing that there were no monitors, what would the state of the school be? above all, what would be the condition of the younger and weaker boys? they would be the absolutely defenceless prey of a most odious tyranny. Let me say then, that I most distinctly and emphatically approve of the manner in which my friends have acted; that I envy and admire the moral courage which helped them to behave as they did; and that if the school attempts on this occasion to resist the legitimate and most wholesome exercise of the monitors' power, it will suffer a deep disgrace and serious loss. I oppose Kenrick's motion with every feeling of my heart, and with every sentiment of my mind. I think it dangerous, I think it useless, and I think it _most unjust_."

A second burst of applause followed Power's energetic words, and continued for several minutes. He had utterly changed the opinions of many who were present, and Kenrick felt his entire sympathy and admiration enlisted on behalf of his former friend. He would at the moment have given anything to get up and retract his previous remarks and beg pardon for them. But his pride and pa.s.sion were too strong for him, and coldly rising, he put it to the meeting, "whether they decided that the monitors had the right to interfere or not."

Jones, Mackworth, Harpour, and others, were eagerly canva.s.sing for votes, and when Kenrick demanded a show of hands, a good many were raised on their side. When the opposite question was put, at first only Power, Henderson, Whalley, and Franklin held up their hands; but they were soon followed by Bliss, then by Anthony and Cradock, and then by a great many more who took courage when they saw what champions were on their side. The hands were counted, and there was found to be an equal number on both sides. The announcement was received with dead silence.

"The chairman of course has a casting vote," said Mackworth.

Kenrick sat still for a moment, not without an inward conflict; and then, afraid to risk his popularity with those whom he had now adopted as his own set, he said, rising--

"And I give it _against_ the right of the monitors."

A scene of eager partisanship and loud triumph ensued, during which Power once more stood forward, and observed--

"You must allow me to remind you that the present meeting in no way represents the sense of the school. I do not see a dozen boys present who are above the lowest fifth-form; and I do earnestly entreat those who have gained this vote not to disturb the peace and comfort of the school by attempting a collision between themselves and the monitors, who will certainly be supported by the nearly unanimous opinion of the upper fifth forms."

"We shall see about that," answered Kenrick in a confident tone. "At any rate, the vote is carried." He left the chair, and the boys broke up into various groups, still eagerly discussing the rights and wrongs of the question which had been stirred.

"_So_, Power," said Kenrick, with a sneer, which he a.s.sumed to hide his real feelings, "all your fine eloquence is thrown away, you see. We've carried the day after all, in spite of you."

"Yes, Ken," said Power, gently; "you've carried it _quocunque modo_.

How comes Kenrick to be on the same side as Jones, Mackworth, and Harpour?"

CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN.

THE MONITORS.

In the teeth of clenched antagonisms.

Tennyson.

The meeting over, Henderson, who had not seen Walter since the morning, flew up to the sickroom to tell him the news, which he was sure would specially interest him. As he entered, the same spectacle was before him which Power had already seen--little Eden restless, and sometimes wandering--Walter seated silently by the bed watching him, his legs crossed, and his hands clasped over one knee. The curtains were drawn to exclude the glare. Walter could read but little, for his eyes were weak after the fight; but his thoughts and his nursing of his little friend kept him occupied. Henderson, fresh from the excitement of the meeting, was struck with the deep contrast presented by this painfully quiet scene.

He was advancing eagerly, but Walter rose with his finger on his lip, and spoke to him in a whisper, for Eden had just dropped off to sleep.

Henderson shook him warmly by the hand, and whispered--"I've such lots to tell you;" and, sitting down by Walter, he gave him an account of what had just taken place. "You should have heard Power, Walter; upon my word he spoke like an orator, and regularly bowled the Harpour lot off their legs. It's splendid to see him coming out so in the school-- isn't it?"

"It is indeed; and thanks to you, too, Flip, for sticking up for me."

"Oh, what I did was nothing. But only fancy that fellow Kenrick fighting against us like this, and giving his casting vote against Harpour's being thrashed! You've no idea, Walter, how that fellow's changed."

He was interrupted, for Eden woke with a short scream, and, starting up in bed, looked round with a scared expression, shuddering and moaning as he fell back again on his pillow.

"Oh, don't, don't, don't frighten me," he said appealingly, while the perspiration burst out over his pale face; "please, Harpour, _please_ don't. Oh, Walter, Walter, _do_ help me."

"Hush, my poor, little fellow, I'm here," said Walter tenderly, as he smoothed his pillow; "don't be afraid, Arty, you're quite safe, and I'm staying with you. They only put on masks to frighten you; it was nothing but that."

Bending over the bed, he talked to him in a gentle, soothing voice, and tried to make him feel at ease, while the child flung both his arms round his neck, sobbing, and still clung tight to his hand when Walter had succeeded in allaying the sudden paroxysm of terror.

Henderson, deeply touched, had looked on with glistening eyes. "How kind you are, Walter," he said, taking his other hand, and affectionately pressing it. "I should just like to have Kenrick here, and show him what his new friends have done."

"Don't be indignant against him, Flip. I wish, indeed, he would but come into this room, and make it up with us, and be what he once was.

But he did not even take the slightest notice of the letter I wrote him, entreating him to overlook any fault I had been guilty of, however unconsciously. I never meant to wrong him, and I love him as much as ever."

"Love him!" said Henderson, "_I_ don't; his new line isn't half to my fancy. He must be jolly miserable, that's one comfort."

"Hush! he _was_ our friend, Flip, remember; indeed, _I_ feel as a friend to him still, whatever his feelings are for _me_. But why do you think he must be miserable?"

"Because you can see in his face and manner, that all the while he knows he's in the wrong, and is thoroughly ashamed at bottom."