The Willoughby Captains Part 51

"In consideration of this generous letter," he continued, "I have decided to remit the impositions I gave on Sat.u.r.day, and also to withdraw the prohibition about the half-holiday. The matter of the monitors I cannot reconsider. I may suggest that, after what has happened, it would be a graceful act on the part of the boys to send Mr Cheeseman a letter of thanks, at any rate, if not of apology. You are now dismissed."

It was quite evident that the majority of the boys were at a loss how to take this strange and unexpected announcement. True, they hated the Radicals, but they also hated impositions and detention, and the probability is that, if left to themselves, they would quietly have availed themselves of Mr Cheeseman's clemency.

But to the small band of hot-headed enthusiasts the very notion of being under an obligation to the Radical was repulsive. They could scarcely wait till the doctor had departed before they vehemently denounced the idea.

"Well," said Merrison, "if that's not what you call adding insult to injury, I don't know what you do! I know _I_ mean to write every letter of my impot if it was a thousand lines instead of a hundred!"

"So shall I; and I'll not stir out of doors all Wednesday afternoon either," said another.

"Of course not; no honourable fellow would."

"I suppose he thinks he's going to bribe us, the cad. Perhaps he hopes we'll give _him_ a leg-up next election?"

"I vote we put on a spurt with the impots and get them all done together," said another. "Paddy shall see which way we go, at any rate."

And so, sorely to the disappointment of some of the juniors, who had been rejoicing prematurely in the removal of their penalties, the order went round in all the houses that every boy was expected in honour to finish his imposition by next day, and also to remain in on Wednesday afternoon, as a protest against "Radical cheek," and this was an appeal no loyal Whig could resist.

It was at least an unusual spectacle in Willoughby to see nearly the whole school insisting on performing a task which no one required of them; each boy not only doing it himself, but seeing that his neighbour did it too!

Several of the small boys and a few lazy seniors protested, but they were coerced with most terrific threats.

The Wednesday half-holiday was spent in determined seclusion, scarcely a boy showing his face in the playground. Even those who had not broken bounds on election-day, and who, therefore, in no case came under the penalty, felt quite out of it, and half ashamed of themselves in the presence of this general burst of political devotion; and it was rumoured that one or two of the weakest-minded of these actually stayed in and wrote out the imposition too!

The following morning was an impressive one in the annals of Willoughby.

The doctor, as he stood in the Great Hall speaking to Mr Parrett after morning prayers, was, much to his amazement, waylaid by the school in a body. Every boy carried in his hand a sheet of paper, and wore on his face a most self-satisfied expression.

"What is all this?" inquired the doctor, sharply, a little bit frightened, perhaps, at this sudden and mysterious invasion of his privacy.

Merrison was pushed forward by the crowd, and advancing paper in hand, replied for the company generally.

"Please, sir," said he, "we've brought the impositions."

"Eh?" said the doctor.

"The impositions, sir. We didn't want to be let off, so we stayed in yesterday afternoon, all of us, and wrote them."

From the tones in which Merrison uttered this explanation one might have supposed he expected the doctor to fall on his neck and shed tears of joy over the lofty virtue of his pupils.

Dr Patrick was quick enough to take in the state of affairs at once, and was wise enough to make the best of the situation.

"Ah," said he, coolly, taking Morrison's proffered imposition and glancing his eyes down it. "I am glad to see you desire to make amends for what occurred on Sat.u.r.day. You can leave the impositions on this table."

"Please, sir, it's not that," said Merrison, hurriedly, alarmed at being suspected of anything like contrition. "It's not that; we--"

"You can leave the impositions on the table," said the doctor, sternly, turning at the same time to continue his conversation with Mr Parrett, which the arrival of the visitors had interrupted.

It was a sad blow for Willoughby, this! They had expected better things. They had meant their act of self-devotion to be a crushing defiance to the Radical, and even a mild rebuke to the doctor himself.

But it had turned out neither.

Slowly and sorrowfully they filed past the table and laid their sacrifices thereon, and then departed, dejected and crestfallen. The doctor, with his back turned, never noticed them, and no one had the hardihood to attempt further to attract his attention.

So ended the election episode at Willoughby.

"I hope you've enjoyed yourselves," said Crossfield to Tedbury the Limpet, that afternoon. "Jolly time you've had of it."

"It's all that young a.s.s Morrison's doing," growled Tedbury.

"Never mind," said Crossfield, laughing; "I'm sure it's done you all good. You all wanted something of the sort, and you'll be better of it."

"You're always trying to make a fool of me, Crossfield," said Tedbury, wrathfully.

"My dear fellow, there's not much chance of that. You are far too good a hand at making a fool of yourself to put any one else to the trouble.

Ta, ta. Shall you be down at the cricket practice again now?"

This last was a pertinent question. For in the midst of all the late political excitement cricket had decidedly languished at the school, and the Rockshire match as well as the house matches were getting alarmingly near.

However, on the first afternoon after Willoughby had returned to its senses a general rush took place once more to the Big, and it was evident during the week which followed that the fellows intended to make up for lost time.

Nowhere was this activity more observed than in the newly-revived Welchers' club, presided over by the captain, and enlivened by the countenances of that ardent trio, Cusack, Pilbury, and Philpot.

During the week preceding the election they had worked with unabated enthusiasm. You might have seen practice going on any morning at half- past six in the Welchers' corner of the Big. The other houses at first regarded it as a good joke, and the earliest practices of the new club were usually performed in the presence of a large and facetious audience, who appeared to derive infinite delight from every ball that was bowled and every run that was made. But the Welchers were not to be snuffed out. Riddell watched over the fortunes of the new club with most paternal interest, losing no opportunity of firing its enthusiasm, and throwing himself heart and soul into its work. Indeed, as a cricketer the captain came out in quite a new light, which astonished even himself.

He had always taken for granted he was utterly incapable of any athletic achievement, but, with the steady practice now entailed upon him, it began to dawn, not only upon himself, but other people, that as a fielder--at slip or cover-slip--he was decidedly useful, while as a batsman he exhibited a certain style of his own that usually brought together a few runs for his side.

But even his own success was less than that of the club generally.

Every member of that small fraternity was intent on the glory of the club, and worked hammer and tongs to secure it. Mr Parrett, kindly jack-of-all-trades as he was, was easily persuaded by Riddell to come down occasionally and bowl them a few b.a.l.l.s, and give them a few hints as to style generally. And every time he came down he was more encouraging. Even Bloomfield and a few of the First Eleven magnates thought it worth their while to saunter round once or twice and watch the practice of this promising club.

It may be judged that, in proportion as the young Welchers found themselves succeeding, their enthusiasm for their club and its president increased. The club grew daily. Some Limpets joined it, and even a few seniors. There was some talk of a first eleven to play in the house matches, while by this time the second-eleven was an accomplished fact, its members thirsting for the day when they should match their prowess against the Parretts or schoolhouse juniors.

The election, as I have said, had rudely interrupted all this healthy preparation, and for a moment it seemed to Riddell as if all his new hold on his boys had disappeared. But that event once over, great was his relief to find that they returned to the sport with unabated and even increased ardour.

That week Welch's had out for the first time two sets of wickets, and even thus could hardly keep going all who wanted to play.

"I tell you what," said Bloomfield, one afternoon, as, with his friend Ashley, he was quietly looking on, while pretending not to do so, "say what you will, Riddell doesn't do badly at slip. Watch this over."

As it happened, Mr Parrett was bowling down some rather swift b.a.l.l.s to the boy who was batting, with a little break from the off, which the batsman seemed unable to play in any manner but by sending them among the slips. So that, during the over, Riddell, blissfully unconscious of the critical eyes that were upon him, had a busy time of it. And so well did he pick the b.a.l.l.s up that the two spies stayed to watch another over, and after that another, at the close of which Bloomfield said, "Upon my word, it's not half bad. And a slip's the very man we want to make up the eleven for Rockshire."

"My dear fellow," said Ashley, in tones almost of alarm, "you're surely not thinking of putting a fellow like that into the eleven."

"I don't care much who goes in so long as he can play," said Bloomfield.

"But fancy the fellow's b.u.mptiousness if he gets stuck into the team!

He's bad enough as it is," said Ashley.

"We've got the schoolhouse fellows to look at," said Bloomfield, "_come_ along. If they've any one better we'll take him, but we _must_ get hold of the best man."

So off they went, and the Welchers' practice continued gaily till the bell for call-over sounded.

"Riddell," said Cusack, who had become captain's f.a.g since the migration to Welch's, "there's a letter for you."