The Fifth Form at Saint Dominic's: A School Story

  CHAPTER NINETEEN.

  AN OLD FIRE RE-KINDLED.

  Saint Dominic's reassembled after the holidays in an amiable frame ofmind.

  The Guinea-pigs and Tadpoles, as the Doctor had prophesied, had cooleddown considerably in spirit during the period, and now returned quietlyto work just as if the mighty "strike" had never existed. Stephen'sregular fights with Bramble recommenced the very first day, so thateverything was quite like old times.

  Oliver found that the Fifth, all but one or two, had quite forgottentheir suspicions of his bravery which had spoiled the pleasure of hislast term, and there seemed every prospect of his getting through thiswith less risk to his quick temper than before.

  As for the Sixth, the Fifth had forgiven them all their offences, andwould have been quite prepared, had it been allowed, to live in peacewith their seniors, and forget all the dissensions of the Summer term.But it was not allowed, and an event which happened early in the termserved to revive all the old animosities between the two head classes.

  At Saint Dominic's, for reasons best known to the all-wise beings whopresided over its management, the principal examinations and "removes"of the year took place not, as in most schools, at the end of theMidsummer term, but at the beginning of the Autumn term, aboutMichaelmas; consequently now, with the examinations looming in thedistance, everybody who had anything to hope for from hard work settleddown to study like mad. Cricket was over for the year, and football hadnot begun. Except boating there was not much doing out of doors, andfor that reason the season was favourable for work. Studies, which usedto be bear-gardens now suddenly assumed an appearance of respectabilityand quiet. Books took the place of boxing-gloves, and pens offencing-sticks. The disorderly idlers who had been in the habit ofinvading at will the quarters of the industrious were now given tounderstand they must "kick-up their heels" elsewhere. _They_ might notwant to grind, but others did.

  The idlers of the Fifth, to whom this warning was addressed on everyhand, had nothing for it but to obey, and, feeling themselves greatlyill-used, to retire sadly, to some spot where "they could kick-up a rowto themselves."

  Casting about them for such a spot, it happened that Braddy and Rickettsone day lit almost by accident on an old empty study, which some yearssince had been a monitor's room, but was now empty and tenantless.

  It at once occurred to these two astute heroes that this would be amagnificent place for boxing-matches. In the other studies one wasalways banging against the corners of tables, or tripping over fenders,but here there was absolutely nothing, but four bare walls to interferewith anybody.

  They called in two more friends--Tom Senior and another--who declared itwas a splendid find, and the four thereupon took formal possession oftheir new territory, and inaugurated the event by a terrificeight-handed match.

  Nothing could have been more satisfactory. The room was well out of theway; the studious ones of the Fifth were spared all annoyance, and theriotous ones had an asylum to go to. No one was a bit the worse for themove; every one, on the contrary, found himself decidedly the better.

  "Go and kick-up a row in the monitor's room," became quite a commonobjurgation in the Form, among the diligent; as common, in fact, as"Come along, old man, and have it out in the monitor's room," was amongthe idlers.

  But, as ill-luck would have it, this delightful retreat happened to besituated immediately over the study occupied by Wren of the Sixth. Thatworthy hero, seated one afternoon over his books, was startled by aterrific noise, followed by a vibration, followed by the rattling of allhis tumblers in the cupboard, followed by a dull, heavy thud over hishead, which tempted him to believe either that an earthquake was inprogress, or that one of the chimney-stacks had fallen on to the roof.When, however, the noise was repeated, and with it were blended laughterand shouts of "Now then, let him have it!"

  "Well parried!"

  "Bravo, Bully!" and the like, Wren began to change his mind, and laiddown his pen. He walked up the stairs to the upper landing, where, atonce, the noise guided him to the old monitor's room. Then the truthdawned upon him. He stayed long enough to get a pretty clear idea ofwho the "new lodgers" were, and then prudently retired withoutattempting a parley single-handed.

  But next morning, when the festive rioters of the Fifth approached oncemore the scene of their revels, what was their amazement and rage tofind the door locked, and the following notice, on a piece of schoolpaper, affixed to the panel--"Monitor's room. This room is closed bydirection of the monitors."

  You might have knocked them over with a feather, so stupefied were theyby this announcement! They stared at the door, they stared at oneanother, and then they broke out into a tempest of rage.

  "The blackguards! what do they mean?" exclaimed Braddy, tearing down thepaper and crushing it up in his hands.

  "Monitor's room, indeed!" cried Ricketts. "_We'll_ let them see whoseroom it is!"

  "Kick open the door, can't you?" said Tom Senior.

  They did kick open the door between them. The lock was a weak one, andsoon gave way.

  Once inside, the evicted ones indulged their triumph by an uproar ofmore than usual vehemence, longing that it might tempt into theirclutches the daring intruders who had presumed to interfere with theirpossession. No one came. They had their fling undisturbed. But beforethey quitted their stronghold one of their number, by diligentsearching, had found in the lock of a neighbouring study-door a keywhich would fit theirs. Repairing, therefore, the catch, damaged bytheir late forcible entry, they calmly locked the door behind them whenthey went, and affixed to it, in the identical place where the othernotice had hung, "Fifth Form. Private study. Not to be entered withoutpermission."

  Of course, the news of this interesting adventure soon spread, and for aday or two the diligent as well as the idle on either side looked onwith increasing interest for the issue of the contest.

  For a while the Fifth had the best of it. They defied the enemy to turnthem out, and procured and fixed an additional lock on the door. TheSixth threatened to report the matter to the Doctor, and summoned theinvaders for the last time to capitulate. The invaders laughed them toscorn, and protested the room belonged to them, and leave it they wouldnot for all the monitors in the world. The monitors retired, and theFifth enjoyed their triumph.

  But next day the Doctor abruptly entered the Fifth Form room, and said,"There is an unoccupied room at the end of the top landing, which someboys in this class have been making use of to the annoyance of otherboys. This room, please remember, is not to be entered in futurewithout my permission."

  Checkmate with a vengeance for the Fifth!

  This event it was which, trivial in itself, re-kindled once more withredoubled heat the old animosity between the two head Forms at SaintDominic's. Although the original quarrel had been confined to onlyhalf-a-dozen individuals, it became now a party question of intenseinterest. The Sixth, who were the triumphant party, could afford totreat the matter lightly and smile over it, a demeanour which irritatedthe already enraged Fifth past description. The two Forms cut oneanother dead in the passages. The Fifth would gladly have provokedtheir rivals to blows, but, like sensible men, the Sixth kept the rightside of the law, and refused to have anything to do with the challengesdaily hurled at them.

  As might be expected, the affair did not long remain a secret from therest of the school. The Fourth Senior, as a body, stood up for theSixth, and the Third and Second, on the whole, sided with the Fifth.But when it came to the junior school--the Guinea-pigs and Tadpoles--allother partisanship was thrown quite into the shade.

  The quarrel was one completely after their own hearts. It had begun ina row, it had gone on in a row, and, if it ever ended, it would end in arow.

  A meeting was summoned at the earliest opportunity to take the momentousmatter into consideration.

  "What I say," said Bramble, "is, it's a jolly good job!"

  "What's a jolly good job?" demanded Stephen, who, of course, was red-
hotfor the Fifth.

  "Why, chucking them out! I'm glad to see it, ain't you, Padger?"

  "They didn't chuck them out!" roared Paul; "they went and sneaked to theDoctor, that's what they did!"

  "I don't care! I say it's a jolly good job! Those who say it's a jollygood job hold up--"

  "Shut up your row!" cried Stephen; "you're always sticking yourself up.I say it's a beastly shame, and I hope the Fifth will let them know it!"

  "You're a young idiot, that's what you are!" exclaimed Bramble in arage. "What business have you got at the meeting? Turn him out!"

  "I'll turn _you_ out!" replied the undaunted Stephen; "I've as muchright here as you have. So there!"

  "Turn him out, can't you?" roared Bramble. "Bah! who goes and swillsginger-beer down in a public-house in the town, eh?"

  This most unexpected turn to the conversation startled Stephen. Heturned quite pale as he replied, "_I_ did, there! But I didn't go in atthe public door. And you've been sneaking!"

  "No, I haven't. Padger told me, didn't you, Padger? Padger peepedthrough the door, and saw you. Oh, my eye! won't I kick-up a shineabout it! I'll let out on you, see if I don't. Bah, public-house boy!potboy, yah!"

  Stephen's only answer to this was a book, accurately shied at the headof his enemy.

  The subsequent proceedings at the meeting were a trifle animated, butotherwise not interesting to the reader. The chief result was that theGuinea-pigs emerged as uncompromising champions for the Fifth, and theTadpoles equally strong for the Sixth, while Stephen felt decidedlyuncomfortable as to the consequences of Bramble's discovery of hissecret visits last term to the Cockchafer.

  Stephen had in a confidential moment during the holidays told Oliver ofthese visits, and of his intimacy with Mr Cripps. The elder brotherwas very angry and astonished when he heard of it. He set before theboy, in no measured terms, the risk he was running by breaking one ofthe rules of the school; and, more than that, he said Cripps was ablackguard, and demanded of Stephen a promise, there and then, that hewould never again enter the Cockchafer under any pretext whatever.Stephen, forced to submit, although not convinced that Cripps was such awicked man as his brother made out, promised, but reserved to himselfmentally the right to see Cripps at least once more at the Lock-House,there to return him the bicycle lantern, which it will be rememberedthat kind gentleman had lent the boy before the holidays. As to theCockchafer, he was thoroughly frightened at the thought of having beenseen there, and fully determined, even before Bramble's threat, neveragain to cross its threshold. After all, Stephen knew he had littleenough to fear from that small braggadocio; Bramble had neither the witnor the skill to use his discovery to any advantage. For a day or twohe followed his adversary up and down the passages with cries of"Potboy!" till everybody was sick of the sound, and felt heartily gladwhen, one fine afternoon, Stephen quietly deposited his adversary on hisback on the gravel of the playground.

  But to return to the feud between Fifth and Sixth.

  Things after a little seemed to quiet down once more. The exiledrioters, after a long and disheartening search, found rest for the solesof their feet in Tom Senior's study, which, though not nearly soconvenient, afforded them asylum during their pugilistic encounters.

  The studious ones settled down once more to their work, and the nearapproach of the examinations presently absorbed all their attention.

  The struggle for the Nightingale Scholarship naturally was regarded withthe most intense interest--not because it was the most importantexamination of the year: it was not. Not because it was worth 50 poundsa year for three years. That to most of the school was a minorconsideration. It was as nothing to the fact that of the threecandidates for the scholarship one was a Sixth Form boy and two Fifth.If only one of the latter could come out first, the Fifth and theirpartisans, all the school over, felt that the insult of the past monthwould be wiped out, and the glory of the Form avenged for ever. And itmust be confessed that the Sixth, however much they professed to ignorethe rivalry of their juniors, were equally anxious for their own man,and of late Loman had been working hard. He had worked, so it wasreported, during the holidays, and now, ever since term had begun, hehad remained more or less secluded in his study, or else, with a bookunder his arm, had taken walks outside.

  Of course, the Sixth Form boy would win! Who ever heard of a Fifth boybeating a Sixth? And yet, in Oliver and Wraysford, the Fifth, every oneadmitted, had two strong men. They would at least make a hard fight forthe prize. The Sixth only hoped they would not run their man _too_close, and so make the glory of his certain victory at all doubtful.

  Loman was not a favourite even with his own class-fellows, but theycould forgive anything now, provided he made sure of the Nightingale.

  "He'll be all right!" said Callonby to Wren one day, when the twohappened to hit on the topic of the hour; "he's a great deal steadierthan he was last term."

  "I wish he'd read indoors, then, and not be everlastingly trotting outwith his books."

  "Oh! I don't know; it's much jollier reading out of doors, if you cando it."

  "As long as he _does_ read. Well, it will be a regular sell if he comesto grief; the Fifth will be intolerable."

  "They're not far short of that now. Hullo!" This exclamation wasprovoked by the sight of Loman in the playground under their window. Hewas returning from one of his studious rambles, with his book under hisarm, slowly making for the school.

  There was nothing in this to astonish the two boys as they looked down.What did astonish them was that he was walking unsteadily, with a queer,stupid look on his face, utterly unlike anything his schoolfellows hadever seen there before. They watched him cross the playground and enterthe school-house. Then Wren said, gravely, "It's all up with theNightingale, at that rate."

  "Looks like it," said the other, and walked away. Loman was returningfrom one of his now frequent visits to the Cockchafer.