Tom, Dick and Harry Part 57

The Philosophers, as might be expected, waxed very indignant when I made a clean breast of the whole matter. With their usual frankness they quite admitted that I might have pilfered the shilling. That sort of thing, they remarked, was quite in my line, and in keeping with my character generally; and they hoped to live to see me hung. But as to caving in to Crofter as the cost of my shelter, they drew the line at that. He had no right to impose new rules, or take away the immemorial privileges of the "Sharpers." Besides, if they gave in on this point, they would immediately have to go and ask his leave to practise for the Sports in Callow Meadow, which was just out of bounds, and where, in strict seclusion, diligent practice had been going on for a week, with most promising results.

I was thereupon ordered to write a laconic rejoinder to the tempting offer, the Philosophers promising to back me up in the matter of the shilling and see me through it.

With a heavy heart, therefore, I sat down and penned the following brief epistle, which was approved by the f.a.ggery and ordered to be laid on Crofter's table before bed-time.

"Dear Crofter,--We all think it's not good enough. It's all a lie about the shilling. Yours sincerely, T.J. iv."

Some of the Philosophers demurred to the sentence about the shilling, which appeared to commit them to an opinion they did not hold. But I had my way for once, and retired to bed, when all was done, wondering whenever peace would come, and I and my friend should rejoice to see one another again as of old.

I do not know how soon I fell asleep. It must have been pretty soon; for I can remember seeing Crofter come into the dormitory and turn out the gas; and I can remember in the general stillness hearing voices and the noise of poking the fire in Mr Sharpe's room downstairs. After that I forgot everything, until suddenly I discovered myself awake again.

Things seemed strange as I slowly turned my head on the pillow and blinked up with half-opened eyes. The dormitory seemed hot and stuffy; somebody or something was making a noise, and I wished they would stop.

I could see nothing, except the hazy outline of my shirt hanging on the back of the chair, and even that seemed to come and go as I watched it.

I was indisposed to move, and my mind was half asleep still. The one thing I did long for was for the noise to stop and some one to open a window. It was simply choking; I could hardly breathe, and--

Suddenly my shirt seemed to turn red, and by the lurid light it emitted I could see smoke coming over the top of the door. Then the side of the room grew red too, and seemed to close in on me, getting redder and redder as it did so, till finally by a frantic effort I raised myself in my bed and yelled--

"Fire!"

The answer was a great volume of smoke, which leapt out at me like a savage beast and sent me back on to the pillow; a deafening roar outside, and a sudden blaze, which half-blinded me and stifled the cry that was on my lips.

That is all I can remember distinctly. I was vaguely conscious of hearing my name called, of seeing my door move, of everything whirling round and round, and finally of falling, or getting, or being dragged out of bed.

The next thing I was aware of was that I was lying in a strange bed, with a headache, but otherwise tolerably comfortable, though awfully thirsty, and as weak as a mouse.

"Water, please," I remarked at large.

Instantly a face bent over me--a strangely familiar face, which after a moment's reflection I told myself was my mother's.

It was such a surprise that I forgot about the water, and took a nap instead.

In due time I must have woke again, this time by candlelight.

"Mother, are you there?"

"Yes, darling; what is it?"

"My shirt caught fire, and--"

"Hush, dear. Don't try to talk."

I didn't quite see why. I was really curious about several things. In fact, I thirsted for information.

"Why mayn't I talk, mother?"

"Because you've been ill."

"Did I get doctor's leave?"

"Yes, dear."

"Mother?"

"Well, sonny darling."

"How did you get here?"

"They sent and told me you--"

"You didn't believe about that shilling? Really there was only 2 shillings 6 pence change."

"Yes, yes, dear. Hush now, there's a good boy."

"Mother?"

"Well, Tommy dear."

"Was there a fire last night?"

"It was a week ago, sonny."

"Who was the fellow called me? Was he riled at me for not answering?"

"Oh no--you were almost suffocated."

"Where shall I sleep now? Have they mended my cubicle?"

"You'll sleep here, dear. All the boys are over here."

"Was all the dormitory on fire, then?"

"Yes; but thank G.o.d every one was saved."

"Is Langrish all right?"

"Oh yes, all of them are."

"Will he be game for the High Jump?"

"Surely, surely--but you're talking too much, sonny."

"Mother?"

"What is it, darling?"

"Does Tempest know I've been ill?"

"Yes," and her eyes seemed to fill with tears as she bent over me.