CHAPTER THIRTY THREE.
MARTYRDOM.
"Since thou so deeply dost enquire, I will instruct thee briefly why no dread Hinders my entrance here. Those things alone Are to be feared whence evil may proceed, Nought else, for nought is terrible beside."
Carey's _Dante_.
Gradually the persecutions to which Charlie was subjected mainly turnedon one point. His tormentors were so far tired of bullying him, thatthey would have left him in comparative peace if he would have yieldedone point--which was this.
The Noelites were accustomed now and then to have a grand evening"spread" as they called it, and when they had finished this supper,which was usually supplied by Dan, they generally began smoking, anamusement which they could enjoy after the lights were out. The smokersused to sit in the long corridor, which, as I have said, led to theirdormitory, and the scout was always posted to warn them of approachingdanger; but as they did not begin operations till the master had gonehis nightly rounds, and were very quiet about it, there was not muchdanger of their being disturbed. Yet although the windows of thecorridor and dormitory were all left wide open, and every otherprecaution was taken, it was impossible to get rid of the fumes oftobacco so entirely as to avoid all chance of detection. They had,indeed, bribed the servants to secrecy, but what they feared was beingdetected by some master. The Noelites, therefore, of that dormitory hadbeen accustomed to agree that if they were questioned by any masterabout the smell of smoking, they would all deny that any smoking hadtaken place. The other nine boys in the dormitory, with the doubtfulexception of Elgood, had promised that they would stick to thisassertion in case of their being asked. The question was, "WouldCharlie promise the same thing?" If not, the boys felt doublyinsecure--insecure about the stability of their falsehood and thesecrecy of their proceedings.
And Charlie Evson, of course, refused to promise this. Single-handed hefought this battle against the other boys in his house, and in spite ofsolicitation, coaxing, entreaty, threats and blows, steadily declaredthat he was no tell-tale, that he had never mentioned anything which hadgone on in the house, but that _if he were directly asked_ whether aparticular act had taken place or not, he would still keep silence, but_could not and would not_ tell a lie.
Now some of the house--and especially Mackworth and Wilton--haddetermined, by the help of the rest, to crush this opposition, toconquer this obstinacy, as they called it; and, since Charlie'sreluctance could not be overcome by persuasion or argument, to break itdown by sheer force. So, night after night, a number of them gatheredround Charlie, and tried every means which ingenuity or malice couldsuggest to make him yield on this one point; the more so, because theywell knew that to gain one concession was practically to gain all, andCharlie's uprightness contrasted so unpleasantly with their own basecompliances, that his mere presence among them became, from thiscircumstance, a constant annoyance. One boy with a high and firm moralstandard, steadily and consistently good, can hardly fail to be mostunpopular in a large house full of bad and reckless boys.
It was a long and hard struggle; so long that Charlie felt as if itwould last for ever, and his strength would give way before he hadwearied-out his persecutors. For now it seemed to be a positiveamusement, a pleasant occupation to them, night after night, to bullyhim. He dreaded, he shuddered at the return of evening; he knew wellthat from the time when Preparation began, till the rest were allasleep, he could look for little peace. Sometimes he was tempted toyield. He knew that at the bottom the fellows did not really hate him,that he might be very popular if he chose, even without going to nearlythe same lengths as the others, and that if he would but promise not totell, his assent would be hailed with acclamations. Besides, said thetempter, the chances are very strongly in favour of your not being askedat all about the matter, so that there is every probability of your notbeing called upon to tell the "cram;" for by some delicate distinctionthe falsehood presented itself under the guise of a "cram," and not of anaked lie; _that_ was a word the boys carefully avoided applying to it,and were quite angry if Charlie called it by its right name. Oneevening the poor little fellow was so weary and hopeless and sad atheart, and he had been thrashed so long and so severely, that he was_very_ near yielding. A paper had been written, the signing of whichwas tacitly understood to involve a promise to deny that there had beenany smoking at night if they were taxed with it; and all the boys exceptElgood and Charlie had signed this paper. But the fellows did not carefor Elgood; they knew that he dared not oppose them long, and that theycould make him do their bidding whenever the time came. Well, oneevening, Charlie, in a weak mood, was on the verge of signing the paper,and thus purchasing a cessation of the long series of injuries andtaunts from which he had been suffering. He was sitting up in bed, andhad taken the pencil in hand to sign his name. The boys, in an eagergroup round him, were calling him a regular brick, encouraging him,patting him on the back, and saying that they had been sure all alongthat he was a nice little fellow, and would come round at last. Elgoodwas among them, looking on with anxious eyes. He had immensely admiredCharlie's brave firmness, and nothing but reliance on the strength ofhis stronger will had encouraged him in the shadow of opposition. "Ifyoung Evson does it," he whispered, "I will directly." Charlie caughtthe whisper; and in an agony of shame flung away the pencil. He hadvery nearly sinned himself, and forgotten the resolution which had beengranted him in answer to his many prayers; but he had seen the effectsof bad example, and nothing should induce him to lead others with himinto sin. "Lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil," wasthe instant supplication which rose from his inmost heart, as he threwdown the pencil and pushed the paper aside.
"I _can't_ do it," he said; "I _must_ not do it; I never told a lie inmy life that I remember. Don't ask me any more." Instantly the toneand temper of the boys changed. A shower of words, which I will notrepeat, assailed his ears; he was dragged out of bed and thrashed moreunmercifully than he had ever been before. "You shall give way in theend, mind that," was the last admonition he received from one of thebigger fellows, as he dragged himself to his bed, sobbing for pain, andaching with disquietude of heart. "The sooner it is the better; for youlittle muffs and would-be saints don't go down with us."
And then for a few evenings, when the candles were put out, and thefellows had nothing better to do, it used to be the regular thing forsome one to suggest, "Come, let's _bait_ No-thank-you; it'll be rarefun." Then another would say, "Come, No-thank-you, sign the paper likea good fellow, and spare yourself all the rest."
"Do," another insidious friend would add; "I am quite sorry to see youkicked and thrashed so often."
"I'll strike a light in one second if you will," suggested a fourth."No, you won't? oh, then, look out, Master No-thank-you, look out forsqualls." But still, however beaten or insulted, holding out like aman, and not letting the tears fall if he could help it, though theyswam in his eyes for pain and grief, the brave boy resisted evil, andwould not be forced to stain his white soul with the promise of a lie.
There were some who, though they dared not say anything, yet looked onat this struggle with mingled shame and admiration--shame forthemselves, admiration for Charlie. It could not be but that there weresome hearts among so many which had not seared the tender nerves ofpity, and more than once Charlie saw kindly faces looking at him out ofthe cowardly group of tormentors, and heard timid words ofdisapprobation spoken to the worst of those who bullied him. Moreoften, too, some young Noelite who met him during the day would seem toaddress him with a changed nature, would speak to him warmly and withfriendliness, would show by little words and actions that he felt forhim and respected him, although he had not courage enough to resistpublicly the opposing stream. And others of the baser sort observedthis. What if this one little new fellow should beat them after all,and end their domination, and introduce in spite of them a truer andbetter and more natural state of things? it was not to be tolerated fora moment, and he must be put down
with a strong hand at once.
Meanwhile Charlie's heart was fast failing him, dying away within him;for under this persecution his health and spirits were worn out. Hisface, they noticed, was far paler than when he came, his looks almosthaggard, and his manner less sprightly than before. He had honourablyabstained hitherto from giving Walter any direct account of histroubles, but now he yearned for some advice and comfort, and went toWalter's study, not to complain, but to ask if Walter thought there wasany chance of his father removing him to another school, because he feltthat at Saint Winifred's he could neither be happy nor in any waysucceed.
"Well, Charlie boy, what can I do for you?" said Walter, cheerfullypushing away the Greek Lexicon and Aristophanes over which he wasengaged, and wheeling round the armchair to the fire, which he pokedtill there was a bright blaze.
"Am I disturbing you at your work, Walter?" said the little boy, whosedejected air his brother had not noticed.
"No, Charlie, not a bit; _you_ never disturb me. I was just thinkingthat it was about time to shut up, for it's almost too dark too read,and we've nearly half an hour before tea-time; so come here and sit onmy knee and have a chat. I haven't seen you for an age, Charlie."
Charlie said nothing, but he was in a weary mood, and was glad to sit onhis brother's knee and put his arm round his neck; for he was more thanfour years Walter's junior, and had never left home before, and thatnight the homesickness was very strongly upon him.
"Why, what's the matter, Charlie boy?" asked Walter playfully. "What'sthe meaning of this pale face and red eyes? I'm afraid you haven'tfound Saint Winifred's so jolly as you expected; disenchanted already,eh?"
"O Walter, I'm very, very miserable," said Charlie, overcome by hisbrother's tender manner towards him; and leaning his head on Walter'sshoulder he sobbed aloud.
"What is it, Charlie?" said Walter, gently stroking his light hair."Never be afraid to tell me anything. You've done nothing wrong, Ihope?"
"O no, Walter. It's because I won't do wrong that they bully me."
"Is that it? Then dry your tears, Charlie boy, for you may thank God,and nothing in earth or under the earth can _make_ you do wrong if youdetermine not--determine in the right way, you know, Charlie."
"But it's so hard, Walter; I didn't know it would be so _very_ hard.The house is so bad, and no one helps me except Bliss. I don't thinkyou were ever troubled as I am, Walter."
"Never mind, Charlie. Only don't go wrong whatever they do to you. Youdon't know how much this will smooth your way all the rest of yourschool-life. It's quite true what you say, Charlie, and the state ofthe school is far worse than ever knew it; but that's all the morereason we should do our duty, isn't it."
"O Walter, but I _know_ they'll make me do wrong some day. I wish Iwere at home. I wish I might leave. I get thrashed and kicked andabused every night, Walter, and almost all night long."
"_Do_ you?" asked Walter, in angry amazement. "I knew that you wererather bullied--Eden told me that--but I never knew it was so bad as yousay. By jove, Charlie, I should like to catch some one bullying you,and--well, I'll warrant that he shouldn't do it again."
"O, I forgot, Walter, I oughtn't to have told you; they made me promisenot. Only it _is_ so wretched."
"Never mind, my poor little Charlie," said Walter. "Do what's right andshame the devil. I'll see if I can't devise some way of helping you;but anyhow, hold up till the end of term, and then no doubt papa willtake you away if you still wish it. But what am I to do without you,Charlie?"
"You're a dear, dear good brother," said Charlie, gratefully; "and butfor you, Walter, I should have given in long ago."
"No, Charlie, not for me, but for a truer friend than even I can be,though I love you with all my heart. But will you promise me one thingfaithfully?"
"Yes, that I will."
"Well, promise me then that, do what they will, they shan't make youtell a lie, or do anything else that you know to be wrong."
"I'll promise you, Walter, if I can," said the little boy humbly; "butI've been doing my best for a long time."
"You _couldn't_ tell a lie, Charlie boy, without being found out; _that_I feel sure of," said Walter, smiling, as he held his brother'singenuous face between his hands, and looked at it. "I don't doubt youfor an instant; but I'll have a talk with Power about you. As head ofthe school he may be able to do something, perhaps. It's Kenrick's dutyproperly, but--"
"Kenrick, Walter? He's of no use; he lets the house do just as itlikes, and I think he must have taken a dislike to me, for he turned meoff quite roughly from being his fag."
"Never mind him or any one else, Charlie. You're a brave little fellow,and I'm proud of you. There's the tea-bell; come in with me."
"Ah, Walter, it's only in the evenings when you're away that I getpitched into. If I were but in the same house with you, how jolly itwould be." And he looked wistfully after his brother as they parted atthe door of the hall, and Walter walked up to the chief table where themonitors sat, while he went to find a place among the boys in his ownform and house. He found that they had poured his tea into his plateover his bread and butter, so he got very little to eat or drink thatevening.
It was dark as they streamed out after tea to go into thePreparation-room, and he heard Elgood's tremulous voice saying to him,"Oh, Evson, shall you give way to-night, and sign?"
"Why to-night in particular, Elgood?"
"Because I've heard them say that they're going to have a grandgathering to-night, and to make you, and me too; but I can't hold out asyou do, Evson."
"I shall try not to give way; indeed, I _won't_ be made to tell a lie,"said Charlie, thinking of his interview with Walter, and the hopes ithad inspired.
"Then _I_ won't either," said Elgood, plucking up courage. "But weshall catch it awfully, both of us."
"They can't do more than lick us," said Charlie, trying to speakcheerily, "and I've been licked so often that I'm getting accustomed toit."
"And I'd rather be licked," said a voice beside them, "and be like youtwo fellows, than escape being licked, and be like Stone and Symes, oreven like myself."
"Who's that?" asked Elgood hastily, for it was not light enough to see.
"Me--Hanley. Don't you fellows give in; it will only make youmiserable, as it has done me."
They went in to Preparation, which was succeeded by chapel, and then totheir dormitories. They undressed and got into bed, as usual, althoughthey knew that they should be very soon disturbed, for various signstold them that the rest had some task in hand. Accordingly, the lightswere barely put out, when a scout was posted, the candles werere-lighted, and a number of other Noelites, headed by Mackworth, camecrowding into the dormitory.
"Now you, No-thank-you, you've got one last chance--here's this paperfor you to sign; fellows have always signed it before, and _you_ shalltoo, whether you like or no. We're not going to alter our rules becauseof you. We want to have a supper again in a day or two, and we can'thave you sneaking about it." Mackworth was the speaker.
"I don't want to sneak," said Charlie firmly; "you've been making mewretched, and knocking me about, all these weeks, and I've never told ofyou yet."
"We don't want any orations; only Yes or No--will you sign?"
"Stop," said Wilton, "here's another fellow, Mac, who hasn't signed;"and he dragged Elgood out of bed by one arm.
"Oh, _you_ haven't signed, haven't you? Well, we shall make short workof you. Here's the pencil, here's the paper, and here's the place foryour name. Now, you poor little fool, sign without giving us any moretrouble."
Elgood trembled and hesitated.
"Look here," said Mackworth brutally; "I don't want to break such abutterfly as you upon the wheel, but--how do you like that?" He drew acane from behind his back, and brought it down sharply on Elgood'sknuckles, who, turning very white, sat down and scrawled his namehastily on the paper; but no sooner had he done it than, looking up, hecaught Charlie's pitying glance upon him, and runnin
g the pencil throughhis signature, said no more, but pushed the paper hastily away andcowered down, expecting another blow, while Charlie whispered,"Courage."
"You must take the other fellow first, Mac, if you want to get on,"suggested Wilton. "Evson, as a friend, I advise you not to refuse."
"_As a friend_!" said Charlie, with simple scorn, looking full atWilton. "You are no friend of mine; and, Wilton, I wouldn't even nowchange places with you."
"Wouldn't you?--Pitch into him, Mac. And you," he said to Elgood, "youmay wait for the present." He administered a backhander to Elgood as hespoke, and the next minute Charlie, roused beyond all bearing, hadknocked him down. Twenty times before he would have been tempted tofight Wilton, if he could have reckoned upon fair play; but what hecould stand in his own person was intolerable to him to witness whenapplied to another.
Wilton sprang up in perfect fury, and a fight began; but Mackworth atonce pulled Charlie off, and said, "Fight him another time, if youcondescend to do so, Raven; don't you see now that it's a mere dodge ofhis to get off. Now, No-thank-you, the time has come for deeds; we'vehad words enough. You stand there." He pushed Charlie in front of him."Now, will you sign?"
"_Never_," said Charlie, in a low but firm tone.
"Then--"
"_Not with the cane, not with the cane_, Mackworth," cried severalvoices in agitation, but not in time to prevent the cane descending withheavy hand across the child's back.
Charlie's was one of those fine, nervous, susceptible temperaments,which feel every physical sensation, and every mental emotion, withtenfold severity. During the whole of this scene; so painfullyanticipated, in which he had stood alone among a group of boys, whosesole object seemed to be to show their hatred, and who were twice asstrong as himself, his feelings had been highly wrought; and though hehad had many opportunities of late to train his delicate organisationinto manly endurance, yet the sudden anguish of this unexpected blowquite conquered him. A thrilling cry broke from his lips, and the nextmoment, when the cane again tore his shoulders, a fit of violenthysteria supervened, which alarmed the brutes who were trying to masterhis noble resolution.
And at this crisis the door burst open with a sudden crash, and Blissentered in a state of burning indignation, followed more slowly byKenrick.
"O, I am too late," he said, stamping his foot; "what _have_ you beendoing to the little fellow?" and thrusting some of them aside, he tookup Charlie in his arms, and gradually soothed and calmed him till hiswild sobs and laughter were hushed, while the rest looked on silent.But feeling that Charlie shrank as though a touch were painful to him,Bliss unbared his back, and the two blue weals all across it showed himwhat had been done.
"Look there, Kenrick," he said, with great sternness, as he pointed tothe marks; and then, laying Charlie gently down on his bed, he thunderedout, in a voice shaken with passion, "You _dogs_, could you look on andallow this? By heavens, Kenrick, if _you_ mean to suffer this, I won't.Out of my way, you." Scattering the rest before him like a flock ofsheep, he seized Mackworth with his strong hands, shook him violently byboth shoulders, and then tearing the cane out of his grasp, he demanded,"Was it you who did this?"
"What are you about, you Bliss?" said Mackworth, with very ruffleddignity. "Mind what you're after, and don't make such a row, you ass'shead," he continued authoritatively, "or you'll have Noel or some one inhere."
"Ho! that's your tone, you cruel, reprobate bully," said Bliss, suppliedby indignation with an unusual flow of words; "we've had enough of that,and too much. You can look at poor little Evson there, and not sinkinto the very earth for shame! By heavens, Belial, you shall receivewhat you've given. I'll beat you as if you were a dog. Take that."The cut which followed showed that he was in desperate earnest, andthat, however immovable he might generally be, it was by no means safeto trifle with him in such a mood as this.
Mackworth tried in vain to seize the cane; Bliss turned him round andround as if he were a child; and as it was quite clear that he did notmean to have done with him just yet, Mackworth's impudent bravado waschanged into abject terror as he received a second weighty stroke, soheartily administered that the cane bent round him, in the hideous waywhich canes have, and caught him a blow on the ribs.
Mackworth sprang away, and fled, howling with shame and pain, throughthe open door, but not until Bliss had given him two more blows on theback, with one of the two cutting open his coat from the collardownwards, with the other leaving a mark at least as black as that whichhe had inflicted on the defenceless Charlie.
"To your rooms, the rest of you wretches," said he, as they dispersed inevery direction before him. "Kenrick," he continued, brandishing thecane, "I may be a dolt, as you've called me before now, but since youwon't do your duty, henceforth I will do it for you."
Kenrick slank off, half afraid that Bliss would apply the cane to _him_;and, speaking in a tone of authority, Bliss said to the boys in thedormitory, "If one of you henceforth touch a hair of Evson's head, lookout; you know me. You little scamp and scoundrel, Wilton, take especialcare." He enforced the admonition by making Wilton jump with a littlerap of the cane, which he then broke, and flung out of the window. Andthen, his whole manner changing instantly into an almost womanlytenderness, he sat by poor little Charlie, soothing and comforting himtill his hysterical sobs had ceased; and, when he felt sure that the fitwas over, gently bade him good-night, and went out, leaving the room indense silence, which no one ventured to break but the warm-heartedlittle Hanley, who, going to Charlie's bedside, said--
"Oh, Charlie, are you hurt much?"
"No, not very much, thank you, Hanley."
Hanley pressed his hand, and said, "You've conquered, Charlie; you'veheld out to the end. Oh, I wish I were like you!"