The Weathercock Part 5

"Be quiet, jacka.s.s," cried Distin; and Macey began to lower himself, in much dread, under the table.

"I say," continued Vane, "you have done everything you could to put me out of temper, and I've put up with it patiently, and behaved like a coward."

"He--aw, he--aw!" said Macey again; and Vane shook his fist at him good-humouredly.

"Amen. That's all, then," cried Macey; and then, imitating the rector again, "Now, gentlemen, let us resume our studies."

"Be quiet, Aleck," said Gilmore, angrily; "I--"

He did not go on, for he saw Distin's hand stealing toward a heavy dictionary, and, at that moment, Vane said firmly:--

"I felt it was time to show you that I am not quite a coward. I did mean it as an insult, as you call it. What then?"

"That!" cried Distin, hurling the dictionary he had picked up with all his might at his fellow-pupil, across the table, but without effect.

Vane, like most manly British lads, knew how to take care of himself, and a quick movement to one side was sufficient to allow the big book to pa.s.s close to his ear, and strike with a heavy bang against the door panel just as the handle rattled, and a loud "Hum--ha!" told that the rector was coming into the room for the morning's reading.

CHAPTER FOUR.

MARTHA'S MISTAKE.

As quickly as if he were fielding a ball, Vane caught up the volume from where it fell, and was half-way back to his seat as the rector came in, looking very much astonished, partly at the noise of the thump on the door, partly from an idea that the dictionary had been thrown as an insult to him.

Macey was generally rather a heavy, slow fellow, but on this occasion he was quick as lightning, and, turning sharply to Distin, who looked pale and nervous at the result of his pa.s.sionate act.

"You might have given the dictionary to him, Distin," he said, in a reproachful tone. "Don't do books any good to throw 'em."

"Quite right, Mr Macey, quite right," said the rector, blandly, as he moved slowly to the arm-chair at the end of the table. "Really, gentlemen, you startled me. I was afraid that the book was intended for me, hum--ha! in disgust because I was so late."

"Oh, no, sir," cried Distin, with nervous eagerness.

"Of course not, my dear Distin, of course not. An accident--an error-- of judgment. Good for the binders, no doubt, but not for the books.

And I have an affection for books--our best friends."

He subsided into his chair as he spoke.

"Pray forgive me for being so late. A little deputation from the town, Mr Rounds, my churchwarden; Mr Dodge, the people's. A little question of dispute calling for a gentle policy on my part, and--but, no matter; it will not interest you, neither does it interest me now, in the face of our studies. Mr Macey, shall I run over your paper now?"

Macey made a grimace at Vane, as he pa.s.sed his paper to the rector; and, as it was taken, Vane glanced at Distin, and saw that his lips were moving as he bent over his Greek. Vane saw a red spot in each of his sallow cheeks, and a peculiar twitching about the corners of his eyes, giving the lad a nervous, excitable look, and making Vane remark,--

"What a pity it all is. Wish he couldn't be so easily put out. He can't help it, I suppose, and I suppose I can. There, he shan't quarrel with me again. I suppose I ought to pitch into him for throwing the book at my head, but I could fight him easily, and beat him, and, if I did, what would be the good? I should only make him hate me instead of disliking me as he does. Bother! I want to go on with my Greek."

He rested his head upon his hands determinedly, and, after a great deal of effort, managed to condense his thoughts upon the study he had in hand; and when, after a long morning's work, the rector smilingly complimented him upon his work, he looked up at him as if he thought it was meant in irony.

"Most creditable, sir, most creditable; and I wish I could say the same to you, my dear Macey. A little more patient a.s.siduity--a little more solid work for your own sake, and for mine. Don't let me feel uncomfortable when the Alderman, your respected father, sends me his customary cheque, and make me say to myself, 'We have not earned this honourably and well.'"

The rector nodded to all in turn, and went out first, while, as books were being put together, Macey said sharply:--

"Here, Vane; I'm going to walk home with you. Come on!"

Vane glanced at Distin, who stood by the table with his eyes half-closed, and his hand resting upon the dictionary he had turned into a missile.

"He's waiting to hear what I say," thought Vane, quickly. Then aloud:--"All right, then, you shall. I see through you, though. You want to be asked to lunch on the toadstools."

In spite of himself, Vane could not help stealing another glance at Distin, and read in the contempt which curled his upper lip that he was accusing him mentally of being a coward, and eager to sneak away.

"Well, let him," he thought. "As I am not afraid of him, I can afford it."

Then he glanced at Gilmore who was standing sidewise to the window with his hands in his pockets; and he frowned as he encountered Vane's eyes, but his face softened directly.

"I won't ask you to come with us, Gil," said Vane frankly.

"All right, old Weatherc.o.c.k," cried Gilmore; and his face lit up now with satisfaction.

"He doesn't think I'm afraid," said Vane to himself.

"Am I to wait all day for you?" cried Macey.

"No; all right, I'm coming," said Vane, finishing the strapping together of his books.--"Ready now."

But he was not, for he hesitated for a moment, coloured, and then his face, too, lit up, and he turned to Distin, and held out his hand.

"I'm afraid I lost my temper a bit, Distie," he said; "but that's all over now. Shake hands."

Distin raised the lids of his half-closed eyes, and gazed full at the speaker, but his hand did not stir from where it rested upon the book.

And the two lads stood for some moments gazing into each other's eyes, till the blue-veined lids dropped slowly over Distin's, and without word or further look, he took his cigarette case out of his pocket, walked deliberately out of the study, and through the porch on to the gravel drive, where, directly after, they heard the sharp _crick-crack_ of a match.

"It's all going to end in smoke," said Macey, wrinkling up his forehead.

"I say, it isn't nice to wish it, because I may be in the same condition some day; but I do hope that cigarette will make him feel queer."

"I wouldn't have his temper for anything," cried Gilmore, angrily. "It isn't English to go on like that."

"Oh, never mind," said Vane; "he'll soon cool down."

"Yes; but when he does, you feel as if it's only a crust," cried Gilmore.

"And that the jam underneath isn't nice," added Macey. "Never mind.

It's nothing fresh. We always knew that our West India possessions were rather hot. Come on, Vane. I don't know though. I don't want to go now."

"Not want to come? Why?"

"Because I only wanted to keep you two from dogs delighting again."

"You behaved very well, Vane, old fellow," said Gilmore, ignoring Macey's attempts to be facetious. "He thinks you're afraid of him, and if he don't mind he'll someday find out that he has made a mistake."

"I hope not," said Vane quietly. "I hate fighting."