CHAPTER VII.
RONLEIGH COLLEGE.
The first two or three weeks of a new boy's life at a big school are, asa rule, a dull and uneventful period, which does not furnish manyincidents that are of sufficient interest to be worth recording.
The Triple Alliance passed through the principal entrance to RonleighCollege one afternoon towards the end of January, with no flourish oftrumpets or beat of drums to announce the fact of their arrival to theirone hundred and eighty odd schoolfellows. They were simply "new kids."But though, after the fame they had won at The Birches, it was ratherhumiliating at first to find themselves regarded as three nobodies, yetthere was some compensation in the thought that, just as the smallestdrummer-boy can point to a flag covered with "honours," and say"My regiment," so, in looking round at the many things of whichRonleians past and present had just reason to be proud, they could claimit as "our school," and feel that they themselves formed a part, howeversmall and insignificant, of the institution.
The crowd of boys, and the maze of passages, rooms, and staircases, werevery confusing after the quiet, old-fashioned house at Chatford; butthough in this world there is no lack either of lame dogs or of stiles,there is also a good supply of kindly-disposed persons who are everready to help the former over the latter, and our three friends werefortunate enough to fall in with one of these philanthropic individualssoon after their arrival.
The stranger, who was a youngster of about their own age, with apleasant, good-natured-looking face, patted Diggory on the back in afatherly manner, and addressing the group said,--
"Well, my boys, we're a large family at Ronleigh, but fresh additionsare always welcome. How did you leave them all at home? Quite well,I hope? Um, ah! Just so. That's what Dr. Denson always says,"continued the speaker, without waiting for any reply to his numerousquestions. "You'll have to go and see him after tea. My name's Carton;what's yours?"
The three comrades introduced themselves.
"What bedroom are you in?"
"Number 16."
"Then you're in the same one as I and young Hart. Come for a stroll,and I'll show you round the place."
With Carton acting as conductor, the party set out on a tour ofinspection. It was some time before the new-comers could find their wayabout alone without turning down wrong passages, or encroaching onforbidden ground, and getting shouted at by irate seniors, and orderedto "Come out of that!" But by the time they had finished their round,and the clanging of a big bell summoned them to assemble in thedining-hall for tea, they had been able to form a general idea as to thegeography of Ronleigh College, and a brief account of their discoverieswill be of interest to the reader.
Passing through the central archway in the block of buildings whichfaced the road, the boys found themselves in a large gravelledquadrangle surrounded on all sides by high walls, broken by whatappeared at first sight to be an almost countless number of windows,while the red brick was relieved in many places by a thick growth ofivy.
"That's the gymnasium on the left," said Carton, "and above it arestudies; and that row of big windows on the right, with the colouredglass in the top, is the big schoolroom."
Crossing the gravel they passed through another archway, in which weretwo folding-doors, and emerged upon an open space covered with asphalt,upon which stood a giant-stride and two double fives-courts.
This formed but a small corner of a large level field, in which a numberof boys were to be seen wandering about arm in arm, or standing chattingtogether in small groups, pausing every now and then in theirconversation to give chase to a football which was being kicked about inan aimless fashion by a number of their more energetic companions.
"The goal-posts aren't up yet," said Carton, "and this is only what'scalled the junior field; the one beyond is where the big fellows play.The pavilion is over the hedge there, with the flagstaff by the sideof it. That's the match ground, and there's room for another gamebesides."
"Where do all the fellows go when they aren't out of doors?" askedDiggory.
"Well, the Sixth all have studies; then comes Remove, and those chapshave a room to themselves; all the rest have desks in the big school,and you hang about there, though of course, if you like, there's thegymnasium, or the box-room--that's where a lot of fellows spend most oftheir time."
"What sort of a place is that?"
"Oh, it's where the play-boxes are kept. Come along; we'll go therenext."
They passed once more through the double doors, and were crossing thequadrangle, when a certain incident attracted their notice, unimportantin itself, but indicating a strong contrast in the manner of life atRonleigh to what they had always been accustomed to at The Birches.A youngster was tearing up a piece of paper and scattering the fragmentsabout on the gravel.
"Hi, you there!" cried a voice; "pick that up. What d'you mean bymaking that mess here?"
The small boy grabbed up the bits of paper, stuffed them in his pocket,and hurried away towards the schoolroom.
"Is that one of the masters?" asked Mugford.
"No," answered Carton, "that's Oaks; he's one of the prefects.Don't you see he's got a blue tassel to his mortar-board?"
"But what's a prefect?"
"Whew!" laughed the other, "you'll soon find out if you play the fool,and don't mind what you're about. Why, there are fourteen of them, allfellows in the Sixth, and they keep order and give you lines, and allthat sort of thing."
"Why, I thought it was only masters did that," said Jack Vance.
"Well, you'll find the prefects do it here," answered Carton; "and whenthey tell you to do a thing, I'd advise you to look alive and do it, forthey don't reckon to speak twice."
The evening passed quickly enough. After tea came an interview with thehead-master in his study, and then what was perhaps a still more tryingordeal--a long spell of sitting in the big schoolroom answering anincessant fire of questions such as, "What's your name?"--"Where d'youcome from?" etc., etc.
At length the signal was given for passing on to bed, and the TripleAlliance were not sorry to gain the shelter of No. 16 dormitory.
The room contained seven other beds besides their own, two of which wereas yet still vacant, waiting the arrival of boys who had not turned upon the first day. The remainder were occupied by a couple of othernew-comers, and three oldsters, Carton, Hart, and Bayley.
It was very different from the cosy little bedrooms at The Birches; butthe three friends were glad to be allowed to undress in peace and quiet,and had scrambled safely into bed some time before the prefect put in anappearance to turn out the light.
"I tell you what," said Hart, a few moments later: "you new kids maythink yourselves lucky that you're in a quiet room for a start. I knowwhen I came first there used to be christenings and all kinds ofhumbug."
"What was that?" asked Diggory.
"Why, fellows used always to christen you with a nickname: they stuckyour head in a basin and poured water over you, and if you struggled yougot it all down your back."
"Yes," continued Carton, "and they hid your clothes, and had bull-fightsand all sorts of foolery. That was in _Nineteen_: old 'Thirsty' was theprefect for that passage, and he doesn't care tu'pence what fellows do.But Allingford's put a stop to almost all that kind of thing: he'scaptain of the school, and he's always awfully down on anything of thatsort."
By the time breakfast was over on the following morning, Diggory and histwo companions were beginning to recover a little from their first stateof bewilderment amid their strange surroundings. They donned the schoolcap of black flannel, with the crest worked in silk upon the front, andwent out to enjoy some fresh air and sunshine in the playground.
It was a bright, frosty day, and the whole place seemed full of life andactivity. There was plenty to engage their attention, and much that wasnew and singular after their comparatively quiet playground at TheBirches. But whatever there was to awaken their interest out of doors,a thing was destined to happen during their first m
orning school whichwould be a still greater surprise than anything they had yet encounteredduring their short residence at Ronleigh.
At nine o'clock the clanging of the big bell summoned them to thegeneral assembly in the big schoolroom. They took their places at aback desk pointed out to them by the master on duty, and sat watchingthe stream of boys that poured in through the open doors, wondering howlong it would take them to become acquainted with the names of such amultitude.
The forms passed on in their usual order, and the new boys wereconducted to a vacant classroom, where they received a set ofexamination papers which were intended to test the amount of theirknowledge, and determine the position in which they were to start workon the following day.
Jack Vance, Diggory, and Mugford sat together at the first desk, just infront of the master's table, and were soon busy in proving theirprevious acquaintance with the Latin grammar. Presently the dooropened, and a voice, which they at once recognized as Dr. Denson's,said, "Mr. Ellesby, may I trouble you to step here for a moment?"None of the trio raised their eyes from their work. There was amuttered conversation in the passage, and then the door was once moreclosed.
The master returned to his desk, dipped his pen in the ink, andaddressing some one at the back of the room, inquired,--
"What did Dr. Denson say your name was?"
"Noaks, sir."
The Triple Alliance gave a simultaneous start as though they hadreceived an electric shock, and their heads turned round like threeweathercocks.
There, sure enough, at the back desk of all, sat the late leader of thePhilistines, with a rather sheepish expression on his face, somewhatsimilar to the one it had worn when the marauders from Horace House hadbeen ushered into Mr. Welsby's study.
Jack Vance looked at Mugford, and Mugford looked at Diggory. "Well, I'mjiggered!" whispered the latter, and once more returned to hisexamination paper.
At eleven o'clock there was a quarter of an hour's interval. Beingstill, as it were, strangers in a strange land, the three friends keptpretty close together. They were walking arm in arm about thequadrangle, giving expression to their astonishment at this latestarrival at Ronleigh, when Diggory suddenly exclaimed, "Look out! herehe comes!"
After so many encounters of a decidedly hostile nature, it was difficultto meet their old enemy on neutral ground without some feeling ofembarrassment. Young Noaks, however, walked up cool as a cucumber, andholding out his hand said,--
"Hullo, you fellows, who'd have thought of seeing you here! How areyou?"
The three boys returned the salutation in a manner which, to say theleast, was not very cordial, and made some attempt to pass on their way;but the new-comer refused to see that he was not wanted, and insisted ontaking Mugford's arm and accompanying them on their stroll.
"I say," he continued, addressing Jack Vance, "were you at Toddertonthese holidays? I don't think I saw you once."
"The last time I saw you," returned Jack, in rather a bitter tone, "waswhen you came to spoil our fireworks, and we collared you in the shed."
Noaks clinched his fist, and for a moment his brow darkened; the nextinstant, however, he laughed as though the recollection of the incidentafforded him an immense amount of amusement.
"Ha, ha! Yes, awful joke that, wasn't it? almost as good as the timewhen that fool of a master of yours, Lake, or Blake, or whatever youcall him, had me sent off the field so that you could win the match."
"It was no such thing," answered Jack. "You know very well why it wasBlake interfered; and he's not a fool, but a jolly good sort."
"Oh, don't get angry," returned the other. "I'm sure I shouldn't flyinto a wax if you called Fox or old Phillips a fool. I got sick of thatbeastly little school, as I expect you did of yours, and so I made myuncle send me here.--Hullo! I suppose that's the bell for going back towork; see you again later on."
"I say," whispered Diggory, as soon as they had regained their seat inthe examination-room, "I vote we give that chap the cold shoulder."
The following morning the three friends heard their names read out asforming part of the Third Form, to which their friend Carton alreadybelonged. Young Noaks was placed in the Upper Fourth, and they werenot destined therefore to have him as a class-mate.
The Third Form at Ronleigh had, for some reason or other, received thetitle of "The Happy Family." They certainly were an amusing lot oflittle animals, and Diggory and his companions coming into the classroomrather late, and before the entrance of the master, saw them for thefirst time to full advantage. Out of the two-and-twenty juvenilespresent, only about six seemed to be in their proper places.
One young gentleman sitting close to the blackboard cried, "Powder,sir!" and straightway scrubbed his neighbour's face with a very chalkyduster. The latter, by way of retaliation, smote the former's pileof books from the desk on to the ground--a little attention which wasimmediately returned by boy number one; while as they bent down to pickup their scattered possessions, a third party, sitting on the formbehind, made playful attempts to tread upon their fingers. Two rivalfactions in the rear of the room were waging war with paper darts; whilea small, sandy-haired boy, whose tangled hair and disordered attire gavehim the appearance, as the saying goes, of having been dragged through afurze-bush backwards, rapped vigorously with his knuckles upon themaster's table, and inquired loudly how many more times he was to say"Silence!"
The entrance of the three new-comers caused a false alarm, and in amoment every one was in his proper seat.
"Bother it!" cried the small, sandy-haired boy, who had bumped his kneerushing from the table to his place; "why didn't you make more noisewhen you came in?"
"But I thought you were asking for silence," answered Diggory.
"Shut up, and don't answer back when you are spoken to by a prefect,"retorted the small boy. "Look here, you haven't written your name onWatford's slate.--They must, mustn't they, Maxton?" he added, turning toa boy who sat at the end of one of the back seats.
"Of course they must," answered Maxton, who, with both elbows on thedesk, was blowing subdued railway whistles through his hands; "every newfellow has to write his name on that little slate on Mr. Watford'stable, and he enters them from there into his mark-book. I'm head boy,and I've got to see you do it. Look sharp, or he'll be here in aminute, and there'll be a row."
Diggory, Vance, and Mugford hastily signed their names, one under theother, upon the slate. There was a good deal of tittering while theydid so; but as a new boy is laughed at for nearly everything he does,they took no notice of it, and had hardly got back to their places whenthe master entered the room, and the work began in earnest.
About a quarter of an hour later the boys were busy with a Latinexercise, when silence was broken by a shuffle and an exclamation fromthe back desk. "You again, Maxton," said the master, looking upwith a frown. "I suppose you are determined to idle away your time andremain bottom of the class this term as you were last. I shall put yourname down for some extra work. Let's see," he continued, taking up theslate: "I appear to have three boys' names down already--'Vance,''Mugford,' and 'Trevanock.' What's the meaning of this? This is notmy writing. How came these names here?"
"Please, sir," faltered Mugford, "we put them there ourselves."
"Put them there yourselves! What d'you want to put your names down onmy punishment slate for? I suppose some one told you to, didn't they?"
"Please, sir," answered Diggory warily, "we thought we had to, so thatyou might have our names to enter in your mark-book."
There was a burst of laughter, but that answer went a long way towardssetting the Alliance on a good footing with their class-mates.
"That young Trevanock's the right sort," said Maxton, "and so are theothers. I thought they'd sneak about that slate, but they didn't."
Mr. Noaks, junior, on the other hand, was destined to find that he wasnot going to carry everything before him at Ronleigh as he had doneamong the small fry at Horace House, The Upper Fourth voted him
a"bounder," and nicknamed him "Moke." After morning school he repeatedhis attempt to ally himself with his former foes, but the result wasdecidedly unsatisfactory.
Down in the box-room, a good-sized apartment boarded off from thegymnasium, Jack Vance was serving out a ration of plum-cake to a selectparty, consisting of his two chums and Carton, when the ex-Philistinestrolled up and joined himself to the group.
"Hullo!" he said, "are you chaps having a feed? D'you remember thatpork-pie we bagged from one of your kids at Chatford? Ha, ha! it was alark."
"I don't see it's much of a lark to bag what doesn't belong to you,"muttered Diggory.
"What's that you say?"
"Nothing for you to hear," returned the other. "I don't know if you'rewaiting about here to get some cake, but I'm sure I never invited you tocome."
"Look here, don't be cheeky," answered Noaks. "If you think I want tomake friends with a lot of impudent young monkeys like you, all I cansay is you're jolly well mistaken," and so saying he turned on his heeland walked away.
"I say, Trevanock," said Carton, two days later, "that fellow Noaks hasfound a friend at last: he's picked up with Mouler. They'll make a nicepair, I should say. Mouler was nearly expelled last term for tellinglies to Ellesby about some cribs."
Noaks certainly seemed to have discovered a chum in the black sheep ofthe Upper Fourth, and the Triple Alliance began to congratulatethemselves that he would trouble them no further. In a big schoollike Ronleigh College there was plenty of room for everybody to go hisown way without fear of running his head into people whom he wished toavoid. Our three friends, however, seemed fated to find in the personof Noaks junior a perpetual stumbling-block and cause of disquietude andannoyance. They had no sooner succeeded in setting him at a distancewhen an incident occurred which brought them once more into violentcollision with the enemy.
The pavilion, which has already been mentioned as standing on the matchground, was a handsome wooden structure, surrounded by some low palings,in front of which was a small oblong patch of gravel. On the secondSaturday morning of the term Noaks and Mouler were lounging across thisopen space, when Oaks, the prefect, emerged from the pavilion, carryingin his hand a pot of paint he had been mixing for the goal-posts, whichwere just being put up. On reaching the paling he suddenly ejaculated,"Bother! I've forgotten the brush;" and resting the can on the top ofthe little gate-post, hurried back up the short flight of steps, anddisappeared through the open door.
"I say, there's a good cock-shy," said Noaks, nodding his head in thedirection of the paint.
"Umph! shouldn't like to try," answered Mouler.
"Why not?"
"Because Oaks would jolly well punch both our heads."
"Well, here's a new kid coming; let's set him on to do it. You speak tohim; he knows me. His name's Mugford."
The two cronies both picked up a handful of stones, and began throwingat the can, taking good care that their shots should fly wide of themark.
Mugford, who, as we have already seen, was not blessed with the sharpestof wits, paused for a moment to watch the contest. The paint had beenmixed in an old fruit-tin, and at first sight it certainly seemed tohave been put on the post for the sole purpose of being knocked offagain.
"Hullo, you new kid!" exclaimed Mouler. "Look here, we want a chap forthe third eleven next season--a fellow who can throw straight. Comealong, and let's see if you can hit that old can."
It certainly looked easy enough, and Mugford, pleased at being takensome notice of by a boy in the Upper Fourth, picked up some pebbles, andjoined in the bombardment. The second shot brought the tin down with agreat clatter, and a flood of white paint spread all over the trimlittle pathway. At the same instant Oaks dashed down the steps boilingwith rage.
"Confound you!" he cried; "who did that ?"
"I did," answered Mugford, half crying; "I thought it was empty."
"Thought it was empty! why didn't you look, you young blockhead?" criedthe prefect, catching the small boy by the arm, while Noaks and Moulerburst into a roar of laughter.
Things would probably have gone hard with the unfortunate Mugford if atthat moment a fifth party had not arrived on the scene. The new-comer,who, from the show of whisker at the side of his face and the tone ofauthority in which he spoke, seemed to be one of the masters, was talland muscular, with the bronze of a season's cricketing still upon hischeeks and neck.
"Stop a minute, Oaks," he said. "I happened to see this little game;let's hear what the kid's got to say for himself."
In faltering tones Mugford told his story. Without a word the strangerstepped up to Mouler and dealt him a sounding box on the ear.
"There!" he said, "take that for your trouble; and now cut off down townand buy a fresh pot of paint out of your own pocket, and do it jollyquick, too.--As for you," he added, turning to Noaks, "get a spade outof that place under the pavilion and clean up this path. If you weren'ta new fellow I'd serve you the same. Look out in future."
"And you look out too," muttered Noaks, glancing at Mugford with afierce expression on his face as the two seniors moved off, "you beastlyyoung sneak. The first chance I get I'll give you the best lickingyou ever had in your life."
"Old Mug is rather a fool," remarked Jack Vance to Diggory a few hourslater; "he ought to have seen through that. But we must stand by himbecause of the Triple Alliance. Noaks is sure to try to set on him thefirst chance he gets."
"Yes," answered Diggory; "look out for squalls."