CHAPTER VII.
IN WHICH CHARLES AND LORD WELTER DISTINGUISH THEMSELVES AT THEUNIVERSITY.
It is a curious sensation, that of meeting, as a young man of two orthree-and-twenty, a man one has last seen as a little lad of ten, orthereabouts. One is almost in a way disappointed. You may be asked outto dinner to meet a man called, say, Jones (or, if you like the namebetter, Delamere D'Eresby), whom you believe to be your old friendJones, and whom you have not seen for a month or so; and on getting tothe house find it is not your Jones at all, but another Jones whom youdon't know. He may be cleverer, handsomer, more agreeable than your oldfriend--a man whom you are glad to know; and yet you are disappointed.You don't meet the man you expected, and you are rather disposed to beprejudiced against his representative.
So it is when you meet a friend in manhood whom you have not seen sinceyou were at school. You have been picturing to yourself the sort of manyour friend must have developed into, and you find him different fromwhat you thought. So, instead of foregathering with an old friend, youdiscover that you have to make a new acquaintance.
You will now have to resume the acquaintance of Charles Ravenshoe at twoand twenty. I hope you will not be much disappointed in him. He was avery nice boy, if you remember, and you will see immediately that he hasdeveloped into a very nice young man indeed. It is possible that I maynot be about to introduce him to you under the most favourablecircumstances; but he created those circumstances for himself, and mustabide by them. As it is not my intention to follow him through any partof his University life, but only to resume his history when he quits it,so it becomes imperatively necessary for me to state, without any sortof disguise, the reason why he did leave it. And, as two or three otherimportant characters in the story had something to do with it, I shalldo so more at length than would at first seem necessary.
It was nine o'clock on the 6th of November. The sun, which had beendoing duty for her Majesty all night at Calcutta, Sydney, &c., had bythis time reached Oxford, and was shining aslant into two pretty littleGothic windows in the inner or library quadrangle of St. Paul's College,and illuminating the features of a young man who was standing in themiddle of the room, and scratching his head.
He was a stout-built fellow, not particularly handsome, but with a verypleasing face. His hair was very dark brown, short, and curling; hisforehead was broad and open, and below it were two uncommonlypleasant-looking dark grey eyes. His face was rather marked, his nosevery slightly aquiline, and plenty of it, his mouth large andgood-humoured, which, when opened to laugh, as it very frequently was,showed a splendid set of white teeth, which were well contrasted with afine healthy brown and red complexion. Altogether a very pleasant youngfellow to look on, and looking none the worse just now for an expressionof droll perplexity, not unmixed with a certain amount of terror, whichhe had on his face.
It was Charles Ravenshoe.
He stood in his shirt and trousers only, in the midst of a scene ofdesolation so awful, that I, who have had to describe some of the mostterrible scenes and circumstances conceivable, pause before attemptingto give any idea of it in black and white. Every moveable article in theroom--furniture, crockery, fender, fire-irons--lay in one vast heap ofbroken confusion in the corner of the room. Not a pane of glass remainedin the windows; the bedroom-door was broken down; and the door whichopened into the corridor was minus the two upper panels. Well mightCharles Ravenshoe stand there and scratch his head!
"By George," he said at last, soliloquising, "how deuced lucky it isthat I never get drunk! If I had been screwed last night, those fellowswould have burnt the college down. What a devil that Welter is when hegets drink into him! and Marlowe is not much better. The fellows weremad with fighting, too. I wish they hadn't come here and made hayafterwards. There'll be an awful row about this. It's all up, I amafraid. It's impossible to say though."
At this moment, a man appeared in the passage, and, looking in throughthe broken door, as if from a witness-box, announced, "The dean wishesto see you at once, sir." And exit.
Charles replied by using an expression then just coming into use amongour youth, "All serene!" dressed himself by putting on a pilot coat, apair of boots, and a cap and gown, and with a sigh descended into thequadrangle.
There were a good many men about, gathered in groups. The same subjectwas in everybody's mouth. There had been, the night before, withoutwarning or apparent cause, the most frightful disturbance which, in theopinion of the porter, had graced the college for fifty years. It hadbegun suddenly at half-past twelve, and had been continued till three.The dons had been afraid to come and interfere, the noise was soterrible. Five out-college men had knocked out at a quarter to three,refusing to give any name but the dean's. A rocket had been let up, anda five-barrel revolver had been let off, and--Charles Ravenshoe had beensent for.
A party of young gentlemen, who looked very seedy and guilty, stood inhis way, and as he came up shook their heads sorrowfully; one, a tallone, with large whiskers, sat down in the gravel walk, and made asthough he would have cast dust upon his head.
"This is a bad job, Charley," said one of them.
"Some heads must fall," said Charles; "I hope mine is not among thenumber. Rather a shame if it is, eh?"
The man with the big whiskers shook his head. "The state of your room,"he said.
"Who has seen it?" eagerly asked Charles.
"Sleeping innocent!" replied the other, "the porter was up there byeight o'clock, and at half-past the dean himself was gazing on yourunconscious face as you lay peacefully sleeping in the arms ofdesolation."
Charles whistled long and loud, and proceeded with a sinking hearttowards the dean's rooms.
A tall, pale man, with a hard, marked countenance, was sitting at hisbreakfast, who, as soon as he saw his visitor, regarded him with thegreatest interest, and buttered a piece of toast.
"_Well_, Mr. Ravenshoe," was his remark.
"I believe you sent for me, sir," said Charles, adding to himself,"Confound you, you cruel old brute, you are amusing yourself with mytortures."
"This is a pretty business," said the dean.
Charles would be glad to know to what he alluded.
"Well," said the dean, laughing, "I don't exactly know where to begin.However, I am not sure it much matters. You will be wanted in the commonroom at two. The proctor has sent for your character also. Altogether, Icongratulate you. Your career at the University has been brilliant; but,your orbit being highly elliptical, it is to be feared that you willremain but a short time above the horizon. Good morning."
Charles rejoined the eager knot of friends outside; and, when he spokethe awful word, "common room," every countenance wore a look of dismay.Five more, it appeared, were sent for, and three were wanted by theproctor at eleven. It was a disastrous morning.
There was a large breakfast in the rooms of the man with the whiskers,to which all the unfortunates were of course going. One or two were in astate of badly-concealed terror, and fidgeted and were peevish, untilthey got slightly tipsy. Others laughed a good deal, rather nervously,and took the thing pluckily--the terror was there, but they foughtagainst it; but the behaviour of Charles extorted applause fromeverybody. He was as cool and as merry as if he was just going down forthe long vacation; he gave the most comical account of the wholeproceedings last night from beginning to end, as he was well competentto do, being the only sober man who had witnessed them; he ate heartily,and laughed naturally, to the admiration of every one.
One of the poor fellows who had shown greatest signs of terror, and whowas as near crying as he could possibly be without actually doing so,looked up and complimented him on his courage, with an oath.
"In me, my dear Dick," said Charles, good-naturedly, "you see thecourage of despair. Had I half your chances, I should be as bad as you.I know there are but a few more ceremonies to be gone through, andthen--"
The other rose and left the room. "Well," said he, as he went, with achoking voice, "I expect my old governor
will cut his throat, orsomething; I'm fifteen hundred in debt." And so the door closed on thepoor lad, and the party was silent.
There came in now a young man, to whom I wish especially to call yourattention. He was an ordinary young man enough, in the morning livery ofa groom. He was a moderately well-looking fellow, and there seems atfirst nothing in any way remarkable about him. But look at him again,and you are struck with a resemblance to some one you know, and yet atfirst you hardly know to whom. It is not decidedly, either, in any onefeature, and you are puzzled for a time, till you come to the conclusionthat everyone else does. That man is a handsome likeness of CharlesRavenshoe.
This is Charles's foster-brother William, whom we saw on a formeroccasion taking refreshment with that young gentleman, and who had forsome time been elevated to the rank of Mr. Charles's "lad." He had comefor orders.
There were no orders but to exercise the horses, Charles believed; hewould tell him in the afternoon if there were, he added sorrowfully.
"I saw Lord Welter coming away from the proctor's, sir," said William."He told me to ask what train you were going down by. His lordship toldme to say, sir, that Lord Welter of Christchurch would leave theUniversity at twelve to-morrow, and would not come into residence againtill next Michaelmas term."
"By Jove," said Charles, "he has got a dose! I didn't think they'd havegiven him a year. Well, here goes."
Charles went to the proctor's, but his troubles there were not so severeas he had expected. He had been seen fighting several times during theevening, but half the University had been doing the same. He had beensent home three times, and had reappeared; that was nothing so very bad.On his word of honour he had not tripped up the marshal; Brown himselfthought he must have slipped on a piece of orange-peel. Altogether itcame to this; that Ravenshoe of Paul's had better be in by nine for therest of term, and mind what he was about for the future.
But the common room at two was the thing by which poor Charles was tostand or fall. There were terrible odds against him--the master and sixtutors. It was no use, he said, snivelling, or funking the thing; so hewent into battle valiantly.
THE MASTER opened the ball, in a voice suggestive of mild remonstrance.In all his experience in college life, extending over a period offorty-five years, he had never even heard of proceedings soinsubordinate, so unparalleled, so--so--monstrous, as had taken placethe night before, in a college only a twelvemonth ago considered to bethe quietest in the University. A work of fiction of a low and vicioustendency, professing to describe scenes of headlong riot and debaucheryat the sister University, called, he believed, "Peter Priggins," hadbeen written, and was, he understood, greatly read by the youth of bothseats of learning; but he was given to understand that the worstdescribed in that book sank into nothing, actually dwindled intoinsignificance, before last night's proceedings. It appeared, hecontinued (referring to a paper through his gold eye-glasses), that athalf-past twelve a band of intoxicated and frantic young men had rushedhowling into the college, refusing to give their names to the porter(among whom was recognised Mr. Ravenshoe); that from that moment a sceneof brutal riot had commenced in the usually peaceful quadrangle, and hadcontinued till half-past three; loaded weapons had been resorted to, andfireworks had been exhibited; and, finally, that five members of anothercollege had knocked out at half-past three, stating to the porter(without the slightest foundation) that they had been having tea withthe dean. Now you know, really and truly, it simply resolved itself intothis. Were they going to keep St. Paul's College open, or were they not?If the institution which had flourished now for above five hundred yearswas to continue to receive undergraduates, the disturbers of last nightmust be sternly eliminated. In the last case of this kind, where a manwas only convicted of--eh, Mr. Dean?--pump handle--thank you--was onlyconvicted of playfully secreting the handle of the college pump,rustication had been inflicted. In this case the college would do itsduty, however painful.
Charles was understood to say that he was quite sober, and had tried tokeep the fellows out of mischief.
THE MASTER believed Mr. Ravenshoe would hardly deny having let off arocket on the grass-plat.
Charles was ill-advised enough to say that he did it to keep the fellowsquiet; but the excuse fell dead, and there was a slight pause. Afterwhich,
THE DEAN rose, with his hands in his pockets, and remarked that thissort of thing was all mighty fine, you know; but they weren't going tostand it, and the sooner this was understood the better. He, for one, aslong as he remained dean of that college, was not going to have a parcelof drunken young idiots making a row under his windows at all hours inthe morning. He should have come out himself last night, but that he wasafraid, positively afraid, of personal violence; and the odds were tooheavy against him. He, for one, did not want any more words about it. Heallowed the fact of Mr. Ravenshoe being perfectly sober, though whetherthat could be pleaded in extenuation was very doubtful. (Did you speak,Mr. Bursar? No. I beg pardon, I thought you did.) He proposed that Mr.Ravenshoe should be rusticated for a year, and that the Dean ofChristchurch should be informed that Lord Welter was one of the mostactive of the rioters. That promising young nobleman had done them thehonour to create a disturbance in the college on a previous occasion,when he was, as last night, the guest of Mr. Ravenshoe.
Charles said that Lord Welter had been rusticated for a year.
THE DEAN was excessively glad to hear it, and hoped that he would stayat home and give his family the benefit of his high spirits. As therewere five other gentlemen to come before them, he would suggest thatthey should come to a determination.
THE BURSAR thought that Mr. Ravenshoe's plea of sobriety should be takenin extenuation. Mr. Ravenshoe had never been previously accused ofhaving resorted to stimulants. He thought it should be taken inextenuation.
THE DEAN was sorry to be of a diametrically opposite opinion.
No one else taking up the cudgels for poor Charles, the Master said hewas afraid he must rusticate him.
Charles said he hoped they wouldn't.
THE DEAN gave a short laugh, and said that, if that was all he had tosay, he might as well have held his tongue. And then the Masterpronounced sentence of rustication for a year, and Charles, havingbowed, withdrew.