CHAPTER TEN.
HOW I CHANGED HANDS AND QUITTED RANDLEBURY.
And now, dear reader, we must take a leap together of three years. Forremember, I am not setting myself to record the life of any one person,or the events which happened at any one place. I am writing my ownlife--or those parts of it which are most memorable--and therefore itbehoves me not to dwell unduly on times and scenes in which I was notpersonally interested.
I had a very close connection with the events that rendered Charlie'sfirst term at school so exciting, but after that, for three years, Ipursued the even tenor of my way, performing some twenty-six thousandtwo hundred and eighty revolutions, unmarked by any incident, either inmy own life or that of my master worthy of notice.
By the end of those three years, however, things were greatly changed atRandlebury. Charlie, not far from his sixteenth birthday, was now atall, broad-shouldered fellow, lording it in the Upper Fifth, and thehero of the cricket field of which he himself had once been a cadet. Inface he was not greatly altered. Still the old curly head and brighteyes. He _was_ noticed occasionally to stroke his chin abstractedly;and some envious detractors went so far as to rumour that, in the lowestrecesses of his trunk he had a razor, wherewith on divers occasions, indread secret, he operated with slashing effect. Be this as it might,Charlie was growing up. He had a fag of his own, who alternately quakedand rejoiced beneath his eye; he wore a fearful and wonderful stick-upcollar on Sundays, and, above all, he treated me with a carelessindifference which contrasted wonderfully with his former enthusiasm,and betokened only too significantly the advance of years on his younghead.
True, he wound me up regularly; but he often left me half the day underhis pillow; and though once in a fit of artistic zeal he set himself tohew out a C.N. in startling characters on my back, with the point of abodkin, he never polished me now as he was once wont to do.
All this was painful to me, especially the operation with the bodkin,but I still rejoiced to call him master, and to know that though yearshad changed his looks, and sobered his childish exuberance, the sametrue heart still beat close to mine, and remained still as warm andguileless as when little Charlie Newcome, with me in his pocket, firstput his foot forth into the world.
There were two besides myself who could bear witness at the end of thesethree years that time had not changed the boy's heart. These two, Ineed hardly say, were Tom Drift and Jim Halliday.
To Tom, Charlie had become increasingly a friend of the true kind. Eversince the day at Gurley races, the influence of the younger boy hadgrown and overshadowed the elder, confirming his unstable resolutions,animating his sluggish mind with worthy ambitions, and giving to hispliant character a tone coloured by his own honesty and uprightness.Just as a pilot will safely steer the ship amid shoals and rocks outinto the deeper waters, so Charlie, by his quiet influence, had givenTom's life a new direction towards honour and usefulness.
Once, and once only, during those three years had he shown a dispositionto hark back on his old discreditable ways, and that was the result of acasual meeting with Gus one summer during the holidays, with whom, heafterwards confessed to Charlie, he was induced to forget for a time hisbetter resolutions in the snares of a billiard-room. But thebacksliding was repented of almost as soon as committed, and, toCharlie's anxious eyes, appeared to leave behind no bad result.
Jim was the same downright outspoken boy as ever. He had yielded,surlily at first, to the admission of Tom Drift into the confidence andfriendship of himself and his chum, but by degrees, moved by Charlie'sexample, he had become more hearty, and now these three boys were thefirmest friends in Randlebury.
One day, as Charlie was sitting in his study attempting, with manygroans, to make sense out of a very obscure passage in Cicero, his fagentered and said,--
"Newcome, there's a parcel for you down at Trotter's."
"Why didn't you bring it up, you young muff?" inquired his lord.
"Because it's got to be signed for, and he wouldn't let me do that foryou."
"Like your cheek to think of such a thing. What's it like?"
"Oh, it's in a little box. I say, Newcome, shall we go and get it?"
"I can't go at present; it'll wait, I suppose," said Charlie, with theair of a man who was daily in the habit of receiving little boxes by thecarrier.
But for all that he could not wholly conceal his curiosity.
"What size box?" he asked presently.
"About the size of a good big pill-box."
"All that? I dare say I can fetch that up by myself," said Charlie.
Size of a large pill-box! It could not be anything so very importantafter all. So he turned again to his Cicero, and sent the fag about hisbusiness.
Presently, however, that youth returned with a letter for Charlie. Itran thus:
"Dear Young Scamp,
"People always say bachelor uncles are fools, and I think they are right. I've sent you a proof of my folly in a little box, which ought to reach you about the same time as this letter. You've done nothing to deserve a present from me, and a box on the ears would be much better bestowed. Never mind. Take care of this little gift for me, in memory of the jolly Christmas you and I last spent together, and when you are not kicking up a row with your cronies at Randlebury or have nothing better to do, think of your affectionate
"Uncle Ralph."
Much to the fag's astonishment, Charlie, having perused this letter,slammed up Cicero, and seizing the cap from off his (the fag's) head, asbeing most ready to hand, dashed out of school in the direction of thevillage.
"Trot!" he exclaimed, as he reached the establishment of that familiarmerchant, "hand up that little box, you old villain! Do you hear?"
The long-suffering Trotter, to whom this address was comparativelypolite in its phraseology, was not long in producing the parcel, inacknowledgment of which Charlie gave his sign manual in lordlycharacters upon the receipt; and then, burning with impatience, yettrying hard to appear unconcerned, walked swiftly back to the school.
The fag was hanging about his study, scarcely less curious than himself.
"Hook it!" cried his master, putting the parcel down on the table andtaking out his penknife to cut the string.
Still the inquisitive fag lingered. Whereupon Charlie, taking himkindly yet firmly by the collar of his coat, conveyed him to the openwindow, whence he gently dropped him a distance of six feet to theearth.
Privacy being thus secured, he turned again to his parcel and opened it.Imagine his delight and my agony when there came to light a splendidgold watch and chain! I turned faint with jealousy, and when a secondglance showed me that the interloper was no other than the identicalgold repeater whom I had known and dreaded in my infancy, I was ready tobreak my mainspring with vexation. To me the surprise had broughtnothing but foreboding and despair, and already I felt myself discardedfor my rival; but to Charlie it brought a rapture of delight whichexpressed itself in a whoop which could be heard half over the school.
"What on earth's the row?" said a head looking in at the door; "caughtcold, or what?"
"Come here, Jim, this moment; look at this!"
And Jim came and looked, and as he looked his eyes sparkled withadmiration.
"My eye, Charlie, what a beauty!" said he, taking up the treasure in hishand. His thumb happened to touch the spring on the handle, andinstantly there came a low melodious note from inside the repeater--One,two, three, and then a double tinkle twice repeated.
"That's striking," observed Jim, who was occasionally guilty of a pun."Why, it's a repeater!"
"So it is! Did you ever know such a brick as that uncle of mine?"
"It's a pity your people can't think of anything else but watches forpresents. Why, what a donkey you made of yourself about that silverturnip when you first had it! Don't you remember? What's to become ofit, by the by?"
"How do I know? I say, Jim, this one wasn't got for nothing." And thenthe boys together i
nvestigated the wonders of the new watch, peeping atits works and making it strike, till I was quite sick of hearing it.But then I was jealous. There was no more Cicero for Charlie that day.He was almost as ridiculous, though not so rough, with his new treasureas he had been with me. He turned me out of my pocket to make room forit; and then half a dozen times a minute pulled it out and gloated overit. At night he put us both under his pillow, little dreaming of thesorrow and disappointment that filled my breast.
Where were all the old days now? Who would admire or value _me_, apoor, commonplace silver drudge, now that this grand, showy rival hadcome and taken my place? In my anger and excitement my heart beat fastand loud, so loud that presently I heard a voice beside me saying,--
"Gently, there, if you please; no one can hear himself speak with thatnoise."
"I've more right to be here than you," I growled.
"That is as our mutual master decides; but surely I have heard yourvoice before! Let me look at you."
And he edged himself up, so as to get a peep at my shabby face.
"To be sure--my young friend the three-guinea silver watch? How do youdo, my little man?"
This patronage was intolerable, and I had no words to reply.
"Ah! you find it difficult to converse. You must indeed be almost wornout after the work you have had. I am indeed astonished to see youalive at all. I am sure, in my master's name, I may be allowed to thankyou for your praiseworthy exertions in his service. We are both muchobliged to you, and hope we shall show ourselves not unmindful ofyour--"
"Brute!" was all I could shriek, so mad was I, Whether my rival wouldhave pursued his discourse I cannot say, but at that instant a hand camefumbling under the pillow. It passed me by, and sought the repeater,and next moment the tinkling chimes sounded half-past eleven.
It was as much as I could endure to be thus slighted and triumphed over.
"Contemptible creature!" I exclaimed; "you may think you've a finevoice, but, like a simpering schoolgirl, you can't sing till you'repressed!" I had him there, surely!
"Better that than having no voice at all, like some people, or using itwhen no one wants to hear it, like others." I suppose he thought he hadme there, the puppy!
He went on chiming at intervals during the night, and of course mymaster had very little rest in consequence.
The next day Charlie and Jim had a solemn confabulation as to thedisposal of me.
"It's no use wasting it, you know," said Jim. "Pity you haven't got ayoung brother to pass it on to."
"Suppose you take it," said the generous Charlie.
"No, old man, I don't want it. I'm not so mad about tickers as you.But, I tell you what, Charlie, you might like Tom to have it. He'sleaving, you know, and it would be a nice reminder of Randlebury."
"Just what I thought directly the new one came," exclaimed Charlie,"only then I remembered we had a row about this very watch three yearsago, and I'm afraid he wouldn't like it."
"Try. Old Tom would be quite set up with a watch."
Charlie proceeded that same day in quest of Tom, whom he found packingup his books and chemicals in a large trunk.
To him my master exhibited his new treasure, greatly to Drift's delight.
"Why, Charlie," he said, "I don't know much about watches, but I'mcertain that's worth twenty pounds."
"No!" exclaimed Charlie; "you don't mean that."
"Yes, I do; but, for all that, I'll back your old turnip to keep as goodtime as it."
"It's always gone well, the old one. I'm glad you like it, Tom."
"I always liked it, you know."
"Why?"
"Well, I've known it as long as I've known you, and if it hadn't beenfor it things might have been different."
"Yes," said Charlie, "it was the cause of all the row three years ago."
"And if it hadn't been for that row I should have gone to the bad longago. That was a lucky row for me, Charlie, thanks to you."
"Don't say that, old man, because it's a cram."
"I say, Tom," added Charlie nervously, coming to his point, "will you dome a favour?"
"Anything in the world. What is it?"
"Take my old watch, Tom. It's not worth much, you know, but it may beuseful, and it will help to remind you of old days. Will you, Tom?"
Tom's lips quivered as he took me from Charlie's outstretched hand.
"Old boy," said he, "I'd sooner have this than anything else in theworld. Somehow I feel I can't go wrong as long as I have it."
Charlie was beyond measure delighted to find his present accepted withso little difficulty.
"Oh, Tom," he said, "I am glad to think you'll have it, and I knowyou'll think of me when you use it."
"Won't I?" said Tom. "I say, Charlie, I wish you were coming to Londonwith me."
"So do I. Never mind, we'll often write, and you'll promise to let meknow how you are getting on, won't you?"
"Yes."
"And you'll call and see my father pretty often, won't you?"
"Yes."
"And you'll keep yourself free for a week's jaunt at Easter?"
"Yes."
They had much more talk that evening, which lasted till late. What theytalked about it is not for me to repeat, and if it were it wouldprobably not interest my reader. He would perhaps be disappointed tofind that a considerable part of it related to a new suit of Tom's, justarrived from the tailor's, and that another part had reference to Tom'sintention to prevail on his landlady in London to allow him to support abull-dog puppy on her premises. These subjects, deeply interesting tothe two friends, would not improve with repetition; and neither wouldthe rest of their talk, which was chiefly a going over of old times, anda laying of many a wondrous scheme for the future. Suffice it to say,on this last evening the two boys unbosomed themselves to one another,and if Tom Drift went off to bed in a sober and serious frame of mind,it was because he and Charlie both had thought and felt a great dealmore than they had spoken during the interview. The packing went on atthe same time as the talk, and then the two friends separated, only tomeet once more on the morrow for a hurried farewell.
"Let's have a last look at him," said Charlie, as Tom was getting intothe cab to go.
Tom took me out and handed me to him. Long and tenderly my dear youngmaster looked at me, then, patting me gently with his hand as if I werea child, he said,--
"Good-bye, and be good to Tom Drift; do you hear?"
If a tick could express anything, my reply at that moment must havesatisfied him his parting wish would not be forgotten. Then returningme to my new master, he said,--
"Good-bye, old boy; joy go with you. We'll hear of you at the head ofyour profession before Jim and I have left school."
"Not quite so soon," replied Tom, laughing.
Then came a last good-bye, and the cab drove off. As it turned thecorner of the drive Tom leaned out of the window and held me out in hishand.
Long shall I remember that parting glimpse. He was standing on thesteps with Jim waving his hands. The sun shone full on him, lighting uphis bright face and curly head. I thought as I looked, "Where could onefind his equal?"--_Sans peur et sans reproche_--"matchless forgentleness, honesty, and courage," and felt, as the vision faded fromme, that I should never see another like him. And I never did.
Little, however, did I dream in what strange way I was next to meetCharlie Newcome.