The World's Greatest Books - Volume 5 Part 18

"My rooms are right up in the roof, with a commanding view of tiles and chimney-pots. Pleasant enough, separated from all mankind by a great iron-clamped outer door; sitting-room, eighteen by twelve; bedroom, twelve by eight; and a little cupboard for the scout. Ah, Geordie, the scout is an inst.i.tution! Fancy me waited on and valeted by a stout party in black, of quiet, gentlemanly planners. He takes the deepest interest in my possessions and proceedings, and is evidently used to good society, to judge by the amount of crockery and gla.s.s, wines, liquors, and grocery which he thinks indispensable for my due establishment. He waits on me in hall, where we go in full fig of cap and gown at five, and get very good dinners, and cheap enough.

"But, after all, the river is the feature of Oxford, to my mind. I expect I shall take to boating furiously. I have been down the river three or four times already with some other freshmen, and it is glorious exercise, that I can see, though we bungle and cut crabs desperately at present."

Within a day or two of the penning of this epistle, Tom realised one of the objects of his young Oxford ambition, and succeeded in embarking in a skiff by himself. He had been such a proficient in all the Rugby games that he started off in the full confidence that, if he could only have a turn or two alone, he should satisfy not only himself but everybody else that he was a heaven-born oar. But the truth soon began to dawn upon him that pulling, especially sculling, does not, like reading and writing, come by nature. However, he addressed himself manfully to his task; savage, indeed, but resolved to get down to Sandford and back before hall-time, or perish in the attempt. Fortunately, the prudent boatman had embarked our hero in one of the safest of the tubs, and it was not until he had zig-zagged down Kennington reach, slowly indeed, and with much labour, that he heard energetic shouts behind him. The next minute the bows of his boat whirled round, the old tub grounded, and then, turning over, shot him out on to the planking of the steep descent into the small lasher. The rush of water was too strong for him, and rolling him over, plunged him into the pool below.

After the first moment of astonishment and fright, Tom left himself to the stream, holding his breath hard, and, paddling gently with his hands, soon came to the surface, and was about to strike out for the sh.o.r.e when he caught sight of a skiff coming, stern foremost, down the descent after him. Down she came, as straight as an arrow, into the tumult below, the sculler sitting upright, and holding his skulls steadily in the water. For a moment she seemed to be going under, but righted herself, and glided swiftly into the still water, while the sculler glanced round till he caught sight of our hero's half-drowned head.

"Oh, there you are!" he said, looking much relieved, "Swim ash.o.r.e; I'll look after your boat."

So Tom swam ash.o.r.e, and stood there dripping and watching the other righting his tub and collecting the sculls and bottom-boards floating here and there in the pool. Tom had time to look him well over, and was well satisfied with the inspection. There was that in his face that hit Tom's fancy, and made him anxious to know him better. There were probably not three men in the university who would have dared to shoot the lasher in the state it was then.

It was settled, at Tom's earnest request, that he should pull the sound skiff up--his old tub was leaking considerably--while his companion sat in the stern and coached him. Tom poured out his thanks for his new tutor's instructions, which were given so judiciously that he was conscious of improving at every stroke.

He disappeared, however, while Tom was wrangling with the manager as to the amount of damage done to the tub, and when Tom, to his joy, saw him come into hall to dinner he took no notice of Tom's looks of recognition. He learned from his neighbour that his name was Hardy, that he was one of the servitors, a clever fellow, but a very queer one. Tom resolved to waylay him as soon as hall was over; but Hardy avoided him.

_II.--Summer Term_

Jervis, the captain of the St. Ambrose Boat Club; Miller, the c.o.x; and Smith, commonly known as Diogenes Smith--from a habit he had of using his hip-bath as an armchair--were determined to make a success of the boat, and Tom had the good fortune to get a place in the college eight--an achievement which is always a feather in the cap of a freshman.

When the summer term came Miller at once took the crew in hand.

Then came the first night of the races, and at half-past three Tom was restless and distracted, knowing that two hours and a half had got to pa.s.s before it was time to start for the boats.

However, at last the time slipped away, and the captain and Miller mustered their crew at the college gates, and walked off to the river.

Half the undergraduates of Oxford streamed along with them. No time was lost on arrival at the barge in the dressing-room, and in two minutes the St. Ambrose eight were all standing, in flannel trousers, silk jerseys, and jackets, at the landing-place.

Then the boat swung steadily down past the mouth of the Cherwell, and through the Gut to the starting-place. Hark! The first gun!

All the boats have turned, crowds of men on the bank are agitated with the coming excitement.

Jervis, quiet and full of confidence, looks round from his seat--he is stroking--takes a sliced lemon from his pocket, puts a small piece into his mouth, and pa.s.ses it on.

"Jackets off," says Miller. And the jackets are thrown on sh.o.r.e, and gathered up by the boatman.

"Eight seconds more only!" Miller calls out. "Look out for the flash!

Remember, all eyes in the boat!"

There it comes at last, the flash of the starting gun. The boat breaks away with a bound and a dash. The oars flash in the water, and the boat leaps forward.

For the first ten strokes Tom was in too great fear of making a mistake to feel or hear or see. But as the crew settled down into the well-known long sweep, consciousness returned, and, amid all the babel of voices on the bank, he could hear Hardy yelling, "Steady! Well pulled! Steady!"

And now the St. Ambrose boat is well away from the boat behind, and as it nears the Gut, it is plainly gaining on Exeter--the boat in front.

"You're gaining!" Miller mutters; and the captain responds with a wink.

Shouts come from the bank. "Now, St. Ambrose!" "Now, Exeter!"

In another moment both boats are in the Gut, and Miller, motionless as a statue till now, calls out, "Give it her, boys! Six strokes, and we are into them!" Old Jervis lashes his oar through the water, the boat answers to the spurt, and Tom feels a little shock, and hears a grating sound, as Miller shouts, "Unship oars, bow and three." The nose of the St. Ambrose boat glides quietly up the side of the Exeter, the first b.u.mp has been made.

Two more b.u.mps were made on the next two nights, and bets were laid freely that St. Ambrose would b.u.mp Oriel and become head of the river.

But the Oriel crew were mostly old oars, seasoned in many a race, and one or two in the St. Ambrose boat were getting "stale."

Something had to be done, and when Drysdale--a gentleman-commoner--resenting Miller's strictures on his performance at No. 2, declined to row any more, Tom suggested that Hardy would row if he were asked.

Hardy, shy and proud because of his poverty, was little known in St.

Ambrose; but a fast friendship had grown up between him and Tom Brown, and he was glad enough to come into the boat at the captain's request.

The change in the boat made all the difference. Hardy was out sculling every day on the river, and was consequently in good training. He was, besides, a man of long, muscular arms.

It was a great race. Inch by inch St. Ambrose gained on Oriel, creeping up slowly but surely, but the b.u.mp was not made till both boats were close on the winning-post. So near a shave was it! As for the scene on the bank, it was a hurly-burly of delirious joy.

St. Ambrose was head of the river!

_III.--A Crisis_

There was a certain inn, called the Choughs, where the St. Ambrose men were in the habit of calling for ale on their way back from the river; and it had become the correct thing for Ambrosians to make much of Miss Patty, the landlady's niece. Considering the circ.u.mstances, it was a wonder Patty was not more spoilt than was the case. As it was, Hardy had to admit that the girl held her own well, without doing or saying anything unbecoming a modest woman. But he was convinced that Tom was in her toils, and after pondering what he ought to do, decided to speak plainly.

Tom had gone into Hardy's rooms according to his custom, after hall; and Hardy at once opened fire concerning the Choughs.

"Brown, you've no right to go to that place," he said abruptly.

"Why?" said Tom.

"You know why," said Hardy.

"Why am I not to go to the Choughs? Because there happens to be a pretty barmaid there? All our crew go, and twenty other men besides."

"Yes; but do any of them go in the sort of way you do? Does she look at any one of them as she does at you?"

"You seem to know a great deal about it," said Tom. "How should I know?"

"That's not fair or true, or like you, Brown," said Hardy. "You do know that that girl doesn't care a straw for the other men who go there. You do know that she is beginning to care for you. I've taken it on myself to speak to you about this, and I shouldn't be your friend if I shirked it. You shan't go on with this folly, this sin, for want of warning."

"So it seems," said Tom doggedly. "Now I think I've had warning enough.

Suppose we drop the subject?"

"Not yet," said Hardy firmly. "There are only two endings to this sort of business, and you know it as well as I."

"A right and a wrong one--eh? And because I'm your friend, you a.s.sume that my end will be the wrong one?"

"I say the end _must_ be the wrong one here! There's no right end. Think of your family. You dare not tell me that you will marry her!"

"I _dare_ not tell you!" said Tom, starting up. "I dare tell any man anything I please!"