The Fifth Form at Saint Dominic's Part 59

"Then give me back that bill!"

Cripps only laughed--a laugh which drove the boy frantic. The villain was going to play him false after all. He had got the money, every farthing of it, and now he was going to retain the bill which contained Loman's promise to pay the whole amount! Poor Loman, he was no match in cunning for this rogue. Who would believe him that he had paid, when Cripps was still able to produce the promise signed with his own name to do so?

Bitterly did the boy repent the day when first, by a yielding to deceit, he had put himself in the power of such a villain!

He was too confounded and panic-struck to attempt either argument or persuasion. He felt himself ruined, and muttering, in a voice which trembled with misery, "I must tell father all about it," he turned to go.

Oh, Loman! Why have you left such a resolve till now? Why, like that other prodigal, have you waited till everything else has failed, till your own resources and cunning have been exhausted to the last dregs, before you turn and say this!

The boy uttered the words involuntarily, not intending that they should be heard. Little he thought Cripps or any one would heed them. But Cripps did heed them. His quick ear caught the words, and they _had_ a meaning for him; for he might be able to cheat and browbeat and swindle a boy, but when it came to dealing no longer with the boy, but with the boy's father, Cripps was sharp enough to know that was a very different matter. He had relied on the boy's fears of exposure and his dread of his father's anger to carry his extortions to the utmost limit with confidence. But now he had gone a step too far. When, in his desperation, the boy naturally turned to the very being he had all along most carefully kept ignorant of his proceedings, it was time for Cripps to pull up.

He stopped Loman as he was going away, with a laugh, as he said, in his old tones, "Steady there, young gentleman, what a hurry you are in! A man can't have a little bit of fun, just to see how you like it, but there you go, and give it all up, and go and get yourself into a regular perspiration! Tell the governor, indeed! You don't suppose I'd let you get yourself into such a mess as all that, do you? No, no. You shall have the bill, my man, never fear."

"Oh, thank you, Cripps, thank you!" cried Loman, in a sudden convulsion of grat.i.tude and relief.

"'Pon my word, I might take offence, that I might, at your wanting the paper. As if _I'd_ ever take advantage of a young gentleman like you!

No, no; honesty's the best policy for us poor folks as well as for you n.o.bs. No one can say I defrauded any one."

"Oh, no, of course not," cried Loman, enthusiastically. "I should like to see any one who did!"

Mr Cripps, smiling sweetly and modestly, went to his cupboard, and after a good deal of fumbling and search, produced the little slip of blue paper he was looking for.

"Is that it?" cried the excited Loman.

"Looks like it," said Cripps, unfolding it and reading out, with his back to the boy, "'Three months after date I promise to pay George Cripps thirty-five pounds, value received. Signed, E. Loman.' That's about it, eh, young gentleman? Well, blessed if I ain't a soft-hearted chap after the doing you've given me over this here business. Look here; here goes."

And so saying, Mr Cripps first tore the paper up into little bits, and then threw the whole into the fire before the eyes of the delighted Loman.

"Thanks, Cripps, thanks," said the boy. "I am so glad everything's settled now, and I am so sorry to have kept you waiting so long."

"Oh, well, as long as it's been an obligement to you, I don't so much care," said the virtuous Cripps. "And now you've done with me I suppose you'll cut me dead, eh, young gentleman? Just the way. You stick to us as long as you can get anything out of us, and then we're n.o.bodies."

And here Mr Cripps looked very dejected.

"Oh, no," said Loman, "I don't mean to cut you, Cripps. I shall come down now and then--really I will--when I can manage it. Good-bye now."

And he held out his hand.

Foolish and wicked as Loman was, there was still left in him some of that boyish generosity which makes one ready to forget injuries and quick to acknowledge a good turn. Loman forgot for a moment all the hideous past, with its suspense and humiliations and miseries, and remembered only that Cripps had torn up the bill and allowed him to clear off accounts once for all at the hated c.o.c.kchafer. Alas! he had forgotten, too, about telling all to his father!

"Good-day, young gentleman," said Cripps, with a pensive face which made the boy quite sorry to see.

He shook hands cordially and gratefully, and departed lighter in heart than he had felt for some time.

But as he returned to Saint Dominic's the thought of Oliver, and of his debt to him, returned, and turned again all his satisfaction into vexation. He wished he had the money that moment to fling back into the fellow's face!

I don't pretend to explain this whim of Loman's. It may have been his conscience which prompted it. For a mean person nearly always detests an honest one, and the more open and generous the one is, the meaner the other feels in his own heart by contrast.

However, for some days Loman had not the painful reminder of his debt often before his eyes; for as long as the Doctor was absent Oliver remained in the Fifth.

At length, however, the head master returned, restored and well, and immediately the "removes" were put into force, and Oliver and Wraysford found themselves duly installed on the lowest bench of the Sixth--the only other occupant of which was Loman. The two friends, however, held very little intercourse with their new cla.s.s-fellow, and Oliver never once referred to the eight pounds; and, like every one and everything else, Loman grew accustomed to the idea of being his rival's debtor, and, as the days went on, ceased to be greatly troubled by the fact at all.

But an event happened one day, shortly after the Doctor's return, which gave every one something else to think about besides loans and debtors.

It was the morning of the day fixed for the great football match against the County, and every one, even the Sixth and Fifth, chafed somewhat at the two hours appointed on such a day for so mundane an occupation as lessons.

Who could think of lessons when any minute the County men might turn up?

Who could be bothered with dactyls and spondees when goal-posts and touch-lines were far more to the point? And who could be expected to fix his mind on hexameters and elegiacs when the height of human perfection lay in a straight drop-kick or a fast double past the enemy's half-backs? However, the Doctor had made up his mind Latin verses should get their share of attention that morning, and the two head forms were compelled to submit as best they could.

Now, on this occasion, the Doctor was specially interested in the subject in hand, and waxed more than usually eloquent over the comparative beauties of Horace and Virgil and Ovid, and went into the minutest details about their metres. Over one line which contained what seemed to be a false quant.i.ty he really became excited.

"It is a most remarkable thing, and I am really pleased we have fallen on the pa.s.sage," said he, "that this identical mistake, if it is a mistake, occurs in a line of Juvenal; it is in the--dear me, I have forgotten how it begins! Has any one here a Juvenal?"

"I have one in my study, sir," said Loman. (Juvenal had been one of the Latin subjects for the Nightingale.)

"Ah! Would you fetch it, Loman, please? I think I know precisely where the line occurs."

Loman rose and went for the book, which he found upon his bookcase, enjoying a dignified and dusty repose on the top shelf. Carefully brushing off the dust, so as to give the volume a rather less unused look, he returned with it to the cla.s.s-room, and handed it to the Doctor.

"Thank you, Loman. Now, it is in the Fourth--no, the Fifth Satire,"

said he, turning over the pages. "Let me see--yes, not far from--ah!"

This last exclamation was uttered in a voice which made every boy in the room look suddenly up and fix his eyes on the Doctor. It was evidently something more than an exclamation of recognition on finding the desired pa.s.sage. There was too much surprise and too much pain in the word for that.

Was the Doctor ill? He closed the book and sat back in his chair in a sort of bewilderment. Then suddenly, and with an evident effort, recovering himself, he let his eyes once more rest on the closed Juvenal.

"Loman," he said, "will you come and find the pa.s.sage for me? Turn to the Fifth Satire."

Loman obeyed, much wondering, notwithstanding, why the Doctor should ask him, of all people, to come up and turn to the pa.s.sage.

He advanced to the head master's desk and took up the Juvenal.

"The Fifth Satire," repeated the Doctor, keeping his eyes on the book.

Certainly the Doctor was very queer this morning. One would suppose his life depended on the discovery of that unlucky line, so keenly he watched Loman as he turned over the pages.

Was the book bewitched? Loman, as he held it, suddenly turned deadly white, and closed it quickly, as if between the leaves there lay a scorpion! Then again, seeing the Doctor's eye fixed on him, he opened it, and, with faltering voice, began to read the line.

"That will do. Hand me the book, Loman."

The Doctor's voice, as he uttered these words, was strangely solemn.

Loman hurriedly took a paper from between the leaves and handed the book to the Doctor.

"Hand me that paper, Loman!"

Loman hesitated.

"Obey me, Loman!"