The Fifth Form at Saint Dominic's Part 55

Had any other three boys but those actually taking part been the compet.i.tors, few outsiders would have felt much interest in the result of an ordinary examination confined to Sixth Form boys. But on this occasion, as we have seen, the general curiosity was aroused. No one expected much of Loman. The school had discovered pretty well by this time that he was an impostor, and their chief surprise had been that he should venture into the list against two such good men as Oliver and Wraysford.

But which of those two was to win? That was the question. Every one but a few had been positive it would be Wraysford, whom they looked upon as the lawful winner of the Nightingale last term, and whom, they were convinced, Oliver was unable to beat by fair means. And yet to these it had been a great astonishment to hear that Oliver had entered for the examination. Unless he was certain of winning he would only do himself harm by it, and confirm the suspicions against him. And yet, if he should win after all--if he was able fairly to beat Wraysford--why should he have gone to the trouble last term of stealing the examination paper and making himself the most unpopular boy in all Saint Dominic's?

These questions sorely exercised the school, and made them await eagerly the announcement of the result.

The news came at last.

"I have just received," said Mr Jellicott that morning, when the Fifth and Sixth were a.s.sembled together in the lecture-theatre--"I have just received from the examiners the report on the Waterston examination.

The result is as follows: First--Greenfield, 108 marks; second-- Wraysford, 96 marks; third--Loman, 20 marks."

Here Mr Jellicott was interrupted by a laugh and a muttered "Bravo, Loman! very good!" in what sounded to the knowing something like Pembury's voice. The master looked up and frowned angrily, and then proceeded: "The examiners add an expression of their very high approval of Greenfield's answers. The highest marks obtainable were 120, and, considering he left the last question untouched--doubtless for want of time--they feel that he has pa.s.sed with very great distinction, and fully in accordance with their expectations of the winner of the Nightingale Scholarship last term. We will now proceed to the usual lessons."

This announcement made the strangest impression on all present. No one attempted any demonstration, but while Mr Jellicott was speaking many perplexed and troubled faces turned to where Oliver, by the side of his friend Wraysford, was sitting. Wraysford's face was beaming as he clapped his friend on the back. Oliver looked as unconcerned and indifferent as ever. The fellow _was_ a puzzle, certainly.

As soon as lesson was over, the Fifth retired to its own quarters in a perturbed state of mind, there to ponder over what had happened. Oliver spared them the embarra.s.sment of his society as usual, and Wraysford was not there either. So the Fifth were left pretty much to their own devices and the guidance of some lesser lights.

"Isn't it queer?" said Ricketts. "Whoever would have thought of it turning out like this?"

"One could understand it," said Braddy, "if there had been any chance of his repeating the dodge of last term. But he couldn't have done that."

"I don't know," said another; "he may have been up to some other dodge.

Perhaps he copied off Wraysford."

"Hardly likely," said Bullinger, "up on the front desk just under Jellicott's nose."

"Well, I can't make it out at all," said Ricketts.

"Nor can I," said Bullinger.

All this while Pembury had not spoken, but he now turned to Simon, and said, "What do _you_ think, Simon? Did you see Greenfield stealing the examination paper this time, eh?"

"Oh, no, not this time," promptly replied the poet; "last term it was, you know. I didn't see him this time."

"Oh, you didn't even see him with it in his pocket? Now, be very careful. Are you sure he didn't have it in his pocket a day before the exam?"

"Why," said Simon, laughing at Pembury's innocence, "how could I see what was in a fellow's pocket, Pembury, you silly! I can't tell what's in your pocket."

"Oh, can't you? I thought you could, upon my honour. I thought you saw the paper in Greenfield's pocket last term."

"So I did. That is--"

Here the wretched poet was interrupted by a general laugh, in the midst of which he modestly retired to the background, and left the Fifth to solve the riddle in hand by themselves.

"Suppose," began Pembury, after a pause--"suppose, when Braddy's done playing the fool, if such a time ever comes--"

Here Braddy collapsed entirely. He would sooner be sat upon by Dr Senior himself than by Pembury.

"Suppose," once more began Pembury, amid dead silence--"suppose, instead of Greenfield senior being a thief and liar, I and all of you have been fools and worse for the last six months? Wouldn't that be funny, you fellows?"

"Why, whatever do you mean?" demanded Tom Senior.

"Why, you don't suppose I mean anything, do you?" retorted the cross-grained Tony. "What's the use of saying what you mean--"

"But do you really--" began Bullinger.

"I say, suppose I and you, Bullinger, and one or two others here who ought to have known better, have been making fools of ourselves, wouldn't that be funny?"

There was a pause, till Simon, plucking up heart, replied, "Very funny!"

The gravity even of Pembury broke down at this, and the present conference of the Fifth ended without arriving at any nearer conclusion on the question which was perplexing it.

Meanwhile, Oliver and Wraysford were in their study, talking over the event of the day.

"I was certain how it would be, old boy," said Wraysford, genuinely delighted. "I wonder what the Fifth will say now? Bah! it doesn't become me to say too much, though, for I was as bad as any of them myself."

"No, you weren't, old boy; you never really believed it. But I say, Wray, I don't intend to take this exhibition. You must have it."

"I!" exclaimed Wraysford. "Not a bit of me. You won it."

"But I never meant to go in for it, and wouldn't have if it had not been for the Fifth. After all, it's only twenty pounds. Do take it, old man. I've got the Nightingale, you know."

"What does that matter? I wouldn't have this for anything. The fellows tried to make me think _I_ was the real winner of the Nightingale, and I was idiot enough half to believe it. But I think I've had a lesson."

"But, Wray--"

"Not a word, my dear fellow; I won't hear of it."

"Very well, then; I shall shy the money when I get it into the nearest fish-pond."

"All serene," said Wraysford, laughing; "I hope the fish will relish it."

At that moment there was a knock at the door.

"Come in," said Oliver.

The door opened, and, to the astonishment of the two boys, Loman entered.

Was it peace, or war, or what? Loman's miserable face and strange manner quickly answered the question.

"Oh, Greenfield," he said, "excuse me. I want to speak to you;" and here he glanced at Wraysford, who rose to go.

"Stay where you are, Wray," said Oliver. "What is it, Loman?"

Loman, quite cowed, hardly knew how to go on.

"I was glad to hear you got the Waterston," he said. "I--I thought you would."

What was the fellow at?