12. _Against Time_
"There is a kind of Followers likewise, which are dangerous, being indeed Espials; which enquire the Secrets of the House and beare Tales of them."--BACON.
"Then give me leave that I may turn the key, That no man enter till my tale be done."
Very possibly Chawner's interference in Mr. Bultitude's private affairshas surprised others besides the victim of it; but the fact is thatthere was a most unfortunate misunderstanding between them from the veryfirst, which prevented the one from seeing, the other from explaining,the real state of the case.
Chawner, of course, no more guessed Paul's true name and nature thananyone else who had come in contact with him in his impenetrabledisguise, and his motive for attempting to prevent an interview with theDoctor can only, I fear, be explained by another slight digression.
The Doctor, from a deep sense of his responsibility for the morals ofthose under his care, was perhaps a trifle over-anxious to clear hismoral garden of every noxious weed, and too constant in his vigilantefforts to detect the growing shoot of evil from the moment it showedabove the surface.
As he could not be everywhere, however, it is evident that manyoffences, trivial or otherwise, must have remained unsuspected andunpunished, but for a theory which he had originated and took greatpains to propagate amongst his pupils.
The theory was that every right-minded boy ought to feel himself in sucha fiduciary position towards his master, that it became a positive dutyto acquaint him with any delinquencies he might happen to observe amonghis fellows; and if, at the same time, he was oppressed by a secretburden on his own conscience, it was understood that he might hope thatthe joint revelation would go far to mitigate his own punishment.
It is doubtful whether this system, though I believe it is foundsuccessful in Continental colleges, can be usefully applied to Englishboys; whether it may not produce a habit of mutual distrust andsuspicion, and a tone the reverse of healthy.
For myself, I am inclined to think that a schoolmaster will find itbetter in the long run, for both the character and morals of his school,if he is not too anxious to play the detective, and refrains fromencouraging the more weak-minded or cowardly boys to save themselves byturning "schoolmaster's evidence."
Dr. Grimstone thought otherwise; but it must be allowed that the system,as in vogue at Crichton House, did not work well.
There were boys, of course, who took a sturdier view of their own rightsand duties, and despised the talebearers as they deserved; there wereothers, also, too timid and too dependent on the good opinion of othersto risk the loss of it by becoming informers; but there were always oneor two whose consciences were unequal to the burden of their neighbour'ssin, and could only be relieved by frank and full confession.
Unhappily they had, as a general rule, contributed largely to the sumof guilt themselves, and did not resort to disclosure until detectionseemed reasonably imminent.
Chawner was the leader of this conscientious band; he revelled in thesystem. It gave him the means at once of gratifying the almost universallove of power and of indulging a catlike passion for playing with thefeelings of others, which, it is to be hoped, is more uncommon.
He knew he was not popular, but he could procure most of the incidentsof popularity; he could have his little court of cringing toadies; hecould levy his tribute of conciliatory presents, and vent many privatespites and hatreds into the bargain--and he generally did.
Having himself a tendency to acts of sly disobedience, he found it acongenial pastime to set the fashion from time to time in some one ofthe peccadilloes to which boyhood is prone, and to which the Doctor'ssomewhat restrictive code added a large number, and as soon as he saw asufficient number of his companions satisfactorily implicated, hisopportunity came.
He would take the chief culprits aside, and profess, in strictconfidence, certain qualms of conscience which he feared could only beappeased by unburdening his guilt-laden soul.
To this none would have had any right to object--had it not necessarily,or at least from Chawner's point of view, involved a full, true, andparticular account of the misdoings of each and every one; andconsequently, for some time after these professions of misgivings,Chawner would be surrounded by a little crowd of anxiously obsequiousfriends, all trying hard to overcome his scruples or persuade him atleast to omit their names from his revelations.
Sometimes he would affect to be convinced by their arguments and sendthem away reassured; at others his scruples would return in anaggravated form; and so he would keep them on tenterhooks of suspensefor days and weeks, until he was tired of the amusement--for thispractising on the fears of weaker natures is a horribly keen delight tosome--or until some desperate little dog, unable to bear his torture anylonger, would threaten to give himself up and make an end of it.
Then Chawner, to do him justice, always relieved him from sodisagreeable a necessity, and would go softly into the Doctor's study,and, in a subdued and repentant tone, pour out his general confessionfor the public good.
Probably the Doctor did not altogether respect the instruments he sawfit to use in this way; some would have declined to hear the informerout, flogged him well, and forgotten it; but Dr. Grimstone--though hewas hardly likely to be impressed by these exhibitions of noble candour,and did not fail to see that the prospect of obtaining better terms forthe penitent himself had something to do with them--yet encouraged thesystem as a matter of policy, went thoroughly into the whole affair, andmade it the cause of an explosion which he considered would clear themoral atmosphere for some time to come.
I hope that, after this explanation, Chawner's opposition to Mr.Bultitude's plans will be better understood.
After tea, he made Paul a little sign to follow him, and the two wentout together into the little glass-house beyond the schoolroom; it wasdark, but there was light enough from the room inside for them to seeeach other's face.
"Now, sir," began Paul, with dignity, when he had closed the glass doorbehind him, "perhaps you'll be good enough to tell me how you mean toprevent me from seeing Dr. Grimstone, and telling him--telling him whatI have to tell him?"
"I'll tell you, Dickie," said Chawner, with an evil smirk. "You shallknow soon enough."
"Don't stand grinning at me like that, sir," said the angry Mr.Bultitude; "say it out at once; it will make no difference to me, I giveyou warning!"
"Oh, yes it will, though. I think it will. Wait. I heard all you said toGrimstone in the study to-day about that girl--Connie Davenant, youknow."
"I don't care; I am innocent. I have nothing to reproach myself with."
"What a liar you are!" said Chawner, more in admiration than rebuke."You told him you never gave her any encouragement, didn't you? And hesaid if he ever found you had, nothing could save you from a licking,didn't he?"
"He did," said Paul, "he was quite right from his point of view--whatthen?"
"Why, this," said Chawner: "Do you remember giving Jolland, the lastSunday of last term, a note for that very girl?"
"I never did!" said poor Mr. Bultitude, "I never saw the wretched girlbefore."
"Ah!" said Chawner, "but I've got the note in my pocket! Jolland wasseedy and asked me to take it for you, and I read it, and it was sonicely written that I thought I should like to keep it myself, and so Idid--and here it is!"
And he drew out with great caution a piece of crumpled paper and showedit to the horrified old gentleman. "Don't snatch ... it's rude; there itis, you see: 'My dear Connie' ... 'yours ever, Dick Bultitude.' No, youdon't come any nearer ... there, now it's safe.... Now what do you meanto do?"
"I--I don't know," said Paul, feeling absolutely checkmated. "Give metime."
"I tell you what I mean to do; I shall keep my eye on you, and directlyI see you making ready to go to Grimstone, I shall get up first and takehim this ... then you'll be done for. You'd better give in, really,Dickie!"
The note was too evidently genuine; Dick must have written it (as amatte
r of fact he had; in a moment of pique, no doubt, at some capriceof his real enslaver Dulcie's--but his fickleness brought fatal resultson his poor father's undeserving head)--if this diabolical Chawnercarried out his threats he would indeed be "done for"; he did not yetfully understand the other's motive, but he thought that he feared lestPaul, in declaring his own sorrows, might also accuse Tipping and Cokerof acts of cruelty and oppression, which Chawner proposed to denouncehimself at some more convenient opportunity; he hesitated painfully.
"Well?" said Chawner, "make up your mind; are you going to tell him, ornot?"
"I must!" said Paul hoarsely. "I promise you I shall not bring any othernames in ... I don't want to ... I only want to save myself--and I can'tstand it any longer. Why should you stand between me and my rights inthis currish way? I didn't know there were boys like you in the world,sir; you're a young monster!"
"I don't mean you to tell the Doctor anything at all," said Chawner. "Ishall do what I said."
"Then do your worst!" said Paul, stung to defiance.
"Very well, then," returned Chawner meekly, "I will--and we'll see whowins!"
And they went back to the schoolroom again, where Mr. Bultitude, boilingwith rage and seriously alarmed as well, tried to sit down and appear asif nothing had happened.
Chawner sat down too, in a place from which he could see all Paul'smovements, and they both watched one another anxiously from the cornersof their eyes till the Doctor came in.
"It's a foggy evening," he said as he entered: "the younger boys hadbetter stay in. Chawner, you and the rest of the first form can go tochurch; get ready at once."
Paul's heart leaped with triumph; with his enemy out of the way, hecould carry out his purpose unhindered. The same thing apparentlyoccurred to Chawner, for he said mildly, "Please, sir, may RichardBultitude come too?"
"Can't Bultitude ask leave for himself?" said the Doctor.
"I, sir!" said the horrified Paul, "it's a mistake--I don't want to go.I--I don't feel very well this evening!"
"Then you see, Chawner, you misunderstood him. By the way, Bultitude,there was something you were to tell me, I think?"
Chawner's small glittering eyes were fixed on Paul menacingly as hemanaged to stammer that he did want to say something in private.
"Very well, I am going out to see a friend for an hour or so--when Icome back I will hear you," and he left the room abruptly.
Chawner would very probably have petitioned to stay in that evening aswell, had he had time and presence of mind to do so; as it was, he wasobliged to go away and get ready for church, but when his preparationswere made he came back to Paul, and leaning over him said with anunpleasant scowl, "If I get back in time, Bultitude, we'll see whetheryou baulk me quite so easily. If I come back and find you've done it--Ishall take in that letter!"
"You may do what you please then," said Paul, in a high state ofirritation, "I shall be well out of your reach by that time. Now havethe goodness to take yourself off."
As he went, Mr. Bultitude thought, "I never in all my life saw such afellow as that, never! It would give me real pleasure to hire someone tokick him."
The evening passed quietly; the boys left at home sat in their places,reading or pretending to read. Mr. Blinkhorn, left in charge of them,was at his table in the corner noting up his diary. Paul was free for atime to think over his position.
At first he was calm and triumphant; his dearest hopes, hislong-wished-for opportunity of a fair and unprejudiced hearing, were atlast to be fulfilled--Chawner was well out of the way for the best partof two hours--the Doctor was very unlikely to be detained nearly so longover one call; his one anxiety was lest he might not be able, after all,to explain himself in a thoroughly effective manner--he planned out alittle scheme for doing this.
He must begin gradually of course, so as not to alarm the schoolmasteror raise doubts of his sincerity or, worse still, his sanity. Perhaps aslight glance at instances of extraordinary interventions of thesupernatural from the earliest times, tending to show the extremeprobability of their survival on rare occasions even to the present day,might be a prudent and cautious introduction to the subject--only hecould not think of any, and, after all, it might weary the Doctor.
He would start somewhat in this manner: "You cannot, my dear sir, havefailed to observe since our meeting this year, a certain difference inmy manner and bearing"--one's projected speeches are somehow generallycouched in finer language than, when it comes to the point, the tonguecan be prevailed upon to utter. Mr. Bultitude learned this openingsentence by heart, he thought it taking and neat, the sort of thing tofix his hearer's attention from the first.
After that he found it difficult to get any further; he knew himselfthat all he was about to describe was plain, unvarnished fact--but howwould it strike a stranger's ear? He found himself seeking ways in whichto tone down the glaring improbability of the thing as much as possible,but in vain; "I don't know how I shall ever get it all out," he toldhimself at last; "if I think about it much longer I shall begin todisbelieve in it myself."
Here Biddlecomb came up in a confidential manner and sat down by Paul;"Dick," he began, in rather a trembling voice, "did I hear the Doctorsay something about your having something to tell him?"
"Oh Lord, here's another of them now!" thought Paul. "You are right,young sir," he said: "have you any objection? mention it, you know, ifyou have, pray mention it. It's a matter of life and death to me, but ifyou at all disapprove, of course that ought to be final!"
"No, but," protested Biddlecomb, "I, I daresay I've not treated you verywell lately, I----"
"You were kind enough to suggest several very uncommonly unpleasant waysof annoying me, sir," said Paul resentfully, "if you mean that. You'vekicked me more than once, and your handkerchief, unless I am very muchmistaken, had the biggest and the hardest knot in it yesterday. If thatgives you the right to interfere and dictate to me now, like youramiable friend, Master Chawner, I suppose you have it."
"Now you're angry," said Biddlecomb humbly; "I don't wonder at it. I'vebehaved like a cad, I know, but, and this is what I wanted to say, I wassorry for you all the time."
"That's very comforting," said Paul drily; "thank you. I'm vastlyobliged to you."
"I was, though," said Biddlecomb. "I, I was led away by the otherfellows--I always liked you, you know, Bultitude."
"You've a very odd way of showing your affection," remarked Mr.Bultitude; "but go on, let me hear all you have to say."
"It isn't much," said Biddlecomb, quite broken down; "only don't sneakof me this time, Dick, let me off, there's a good fellow. I'll stick upfor you after this, I will really. You used not to be a fellow forsneaking once. It's caddish to sneak!"
"Don't be alarmed, my good friend," said Paul; "I won't poach on thatexcellent young man Chawner's preserves. What I am going to tell theDoctor has nothing to do with you."
"On your honour?" said Biddlecomb eagerly.
"Yes," said Paul testily, "on my honour. Now, perhaps, you'll let mealone. No, I won't shake hands, sir. I've had to accept your kicks, butI don't want your friendship."
Biddlecomb went off, looking slightly ashamed of himself but visiblyrelieved from a haunting fear. "Thank goodness!" thought Paul, "hewasn't as obstinate as the other fellow. What a set they are! I knew it,there's another boy coming up now!"
And indeed one boy after another came up in the same way as Biddlecombhad done, some cringing more than others, but all vowing that they hadnever intended to do any harm, and entreating him to change his mindabout complaining of his ill-treatment. They brought little offerings topropitiate him and prove the depth of their unalteredregard--pencil-cases and pocket-knives, and so forth, until they drovePaul nearly to desperation. However, he succeeded in dispelling theirfears after some hot arguments, and had just sent away the lastsuppliant, when he saw Jolland too rise and come towards him.
Jolland leaned across Paul's desk with folded arms and looked him fullin the face with his shallow light
green eyes. "I don't know what you'vesaid to all those chaps," he began; "they've come back looking preciousglum, but they won't tell me what you said," (Mr. Bultitude had insatisfying their alarm taken care to let them know his private opinionof them, which was not flattering), "but I've got something to say toyou, and it's this. I never thought you would quite come down to thissort of thing!"
"What sort of thing?" said Paul, who was beginning to have enough of it.
"Why, going up and letting on against all of us--it's mean, you know. Ifyou have got bashed about pretty well since you came back, it's beenall your own fault, and you know it. Last term you got on wellenough--this time you began to be queer and nasty the very first day youcame. I thought it was one of your larks at first, but I don't know whatit is now, and I don't care. I stood up for you as long as I could, tillyou acted like a funk yesterday. Then I took my share in lamming you,and I'd do it again. But if you are cad enough to pay us all out in thisway, I'll have no more to do with you--mind that. That's all I came tosay."
This was an unpalatable way of putting things, but Paul could not helpseeing that there was some truth in it. Jolland had been kind to him,too, in a careless sort of way, and at some cost to himself; so it waswith more mildness than temper that he answered him.
"You're on the wrong tack, my boy, the wrong tack. I've no wish to telltales of anyone, as I've been trying to explain to your friends. There'ssomething the matter with me which you wouldn't understand if I toldyou."
"Oh, I didn't know," said Jolland, mollified; "if it's only physic youwant."
"Whatever it is," said Paul, not caring to undeceive him, "it won'taffect you or anyone here, but myself. You're not a bad young fellow, Ibelieve. I don't want to get you into trouble, sir; you don't want muchassistance, I'm afraid, in that department. So be off, like a goodfellow, and leave me in peace."
All these interviews had taken time. He was alarmed on looking at theclock to see that it was nearly eight; the Doctor was a long time overthat call--for the first time he began to feel uneasy--he made hurriedmental calculations as to the probability of the Doctor or Chawner beingthe first to return.
The walk to church took about twenty minutes; say the service took anhour, allowing for the return, he might expect Chawner by abouthalf-past eight; it was striking the hour now--half an hour only inwhich he could hope for any favourable result from the interview!
For he saw this plainly, that if Chawner were once permitted to get theDoctor's ear first and show him that infamous love-note, no explanationof his (even if he had nerve to make it then, which he doubted) couldpossibly seem anything more than a desperate and far-fetched excuse; ifhe could anticipate Chawner, on the other hand, and once convince theDoctor of the truth of his story, the informer's malice would fall flat.
And still the long hand went rapidly on, as Mr. Bultitude sat staringstupidly at it with a faint sick feeling--it had passed the quarternow--why did the Doctor delay in this unwarrantable manner? What a farcesocial civilities were--if he had allowed himself to be prevailed on tostay to supper! Twenty minutes past; Chawner and the others might returnat any moment--a ring at the bell; they were there! all was overnow--no, he was saved, that was Dr. Grimstone's voice in the hall--whatan unconscionable time he was taking off his greatcoat and gloves.
But all comes to the man who waits. In another moment the Doctor lookedin, singled out Mr. Bultitude with a sharp glance, and a, "Now,Bultitude, I will hear you!" and led the way to his study.
Paul staggered rather than walked after him: as usual at the criticalmoment his carefully prepared opening had deserted him--his head feltheavy and crowded--he wanted to run away, but forced himself to overcomesuch a suicidal proceeding and follow to the study.
There was a lighted reading-lamp with a green glass shade upon thetable. The Doctor sat down by it in an armchair by the fire, crossed hislegs, and joined the tops of his fingers together. "Now, Bultitude," hesaid again.
"Might I--might I sit down?" said poor Mr. Bultitude in a thick voice;it was all that occurred to him to say.
"Sit by all means," said the Doctor blandly.
So Paul drew a chair opposite the Doctor and sat down. He trieddesperately to clear his head and throat and begin; but the onlydistinct thought in his mind just then was that the green lamp-shadelent a particularly ghastly hue to the Doctor's face.
"Take your time, Bultitude," said the latter, after a long minute, inwhich a little skeleton clock on the mantelpiece ticked loudly--"there'sno hurry, my boy."
But this only reminded Paul that there was every need for hurry--Chawnermight come in, and follow him here, unless he made haste.
Still, he could only say, "You see me in a very agitated state, Dr.Grimstone--a very agitated state, sir."
The Doctor gave a short, dry cough. "Well, Bultitude," he said.
"The fact is, sir, I'm in a most unfortunate position, and--and theworst of it is, I don't know how to begin." Here he made another deadstop, while the Doctor raised his heavy eyebrows, and looked at theclock.
"Do you see any prospect of your finding yourself able to begin soon?"he inquired at last, with rather suspicious suavity. "Perhaps if youcame to me later on----"
"Not for the world!" said Paul, in a highly nervous condition. "I shallbegin very soon, Doctor, I shall begin directly. Mine is such a verysingular case; it's difficult, as you see, to, to open it!"
"Have you anything on your mind?" asked the Doctor suddenly.
Paul could hear steps and voices in the adjoining cloakroom--thechurchgoers had returned. "Yes--no!" he answered, losing his headcompletely now.
"That's a somewhat extraordinary, not to say an ambiguous, reply," saidthe Doctor; "what am I to understand by----"
There was a tap at the door. Paul started to his feet in a panic. "Don'tlet him in!" he shrieked, finding his voice at last. "Hear me first--youshall hear me first! Say that other rascal is not to come in. He wantsto ruin me!"
"I was going to say I was engaged," said the Doctor; "but there'ssomething under this I must understand. Come in, whoever you are."
And the door opened softly, and Chawner stepped meekly in; he was ratherpale and breathed hard, but was otherwise quite composed.
"Now, then, Chawner," said the Doctor impatiently, "what is it? Have yousomething on your mind, too?"
"Please, sir," said Chawner, "has Bultitude told you anything yet?"
"No, why? Hold your tongue, Bultitude. I shall hear Chawner now--notyou!"
"Because, sir," explained Chawner, "he knew I had made up my mind totell you something I thought you ought to know about him, and so hethreatened to come first and tell some falsehood (I'm sure I don't knowwhat) about me, sir. I think I ought to be here too."
"It's a lie!" shouted Paul, "What a villain that boy is! Don't believe aword he says, Dr. Grimstone; it's all false--all!"
"This is very suspicious," said the Doctor; "if your conscience weregood, Bultitude, you could have no object in preventing me from hearingChawner. Chawner, in spite of some obvious defects in his character," hewent on, with a gulp (he never could quite overcome a repulsion to theboy), "is, on the whole, a right-minded and, ah, conscientious boy. Ihear Chawner first."
"Then, sir, if you please," said Chawner, with an odious side smirk oftriumph at Paul, who, quite crushed by the horror of the situation, hadcollapsed feebly on his chair again, "I thought it was my duty to letyou see this. I found it to-day in Bultitude's prayerbook, sir." And hehanded Dick's unlucky scrawl to the Doctor, who took it to the lamp andread it hurriedly through.
After that there was a terrible moment of dead silence; then the Doctorlooked up and said shortly, "You did well to tell me of this, Chawner;you may go now."
When they were alone once more he turned upon the speechless Paul withfurious scorn and indignation. "Contemptible liar and hypocrite," hethundered, pacing restlessly up and down the room in his excitement,till Paul felt very like Daniel, without his sense of security, "you areunmasked--unmasked, sir! Yo
u led me to believe that you were as muchshocked and pained at this girl's venturing to write to you as I couldbe myself. You called it, quite correctly, 'forward and improper'; youpretended you had never given her the least encouragement--had not heardher name even--till to-day. And here is a note, written, as I shouldimagine, some time since, in which you address her as 'Connie Davenant,'and have the impudence to admire the hat she wore the Sunday before! Ishudder, sir, to think of such duplicity, such precocious and shamelessdepravity. It astounds me. It deprives me of all power to think!"
Paul made some faint and inarticulate remark about being a familyman--always most particular, and so forth--luckily it passed unheard.
"What shall I do with you?" continued the Doctor; "how shall I punishsuch monstrous misconduct?"
"Don't ask _me_, sir," said Paul, desperately--"only, for heaven's sake,get it over as soon as possible."
"If I linger, sir," retorted the Doctor, "it is because I have gravedoubts whether your offence can be expiated by a mere flogging--whetherthat is not altogether too light a retribution."
"He can't want to _torture_ me," thought Paul.
"Yes," said the Doctor again, "the doubt has prevailed. On a mind sohardened the cane would leave no lasting impression. I cannot allow yourinnocent companions to run the risk of contamination from your society.I must not permit this serpent to glide uncrushed, this cockatrice topractise his epistolary wiles, within my peaceful fold. My mind is madeup--at whatever cost to myself--however it may distress and grieve yourgood father, who is so pathetically anxious for you to do him credit,sir. I must do my duty to the parents of the boys entrusted to my care.I shall not flog you, sir, for I feel it would be useless. I shall expelyou."
"What!" Paul leaped up incredulous. "Expel me? Do I hear you aright, Dr.Grimstone? Say it again--you will expel me?"
"I have said it," the Doctor said sternly; "no expostulations can moveme now" (as if Mr. Bultitude was likely to expostulate!) "Mrs. Grimstonewill see that your boxes are packed the first thing to-morrow morning,and I shall take you myself to the station and consign you to the homeyou have covered with blushes and shame, by the 9.15 train, and I shallwrite a letter to-night explaining the causes for your dismissal."
Mr. Bultitude covered his face with his hands, to hide, not his shameand distress, but his indecent rapture. It seemed almost too good to betrue! He saw himself about to be provided with every means of reachinghome in comfort and safety. He need dread no pursuit now. There was nochance, either, of his being forced to return to the prison-house--theDoctor's letter would convince even Dick of the impossibility of that.And, best of all, this magnificent stroke of good luck had been obtainedwithout the ignominy and pain of a flogging, without even the unpleasantnecessity of telling his strange secret.
But (having gained some experience during his short stay at the school)he had the duplicity to pretend to sob bitterly.
"But one night more, sir," continued the Doctor, "shall you pass beneaththis roof, and that apart from your fellows. You will occupy the sparebedroom until the morning, when you quit the school in disgrace--forever."
I said in another chapter that this Sunday would find Paul, at itsclose, after a trying course of emotions, in a state of deliciousecstasy of pure relief and happiness--and really that scarcely seems toostrong an expression for his feelings.
When he found himself locked securely into a comfortable, warm bedroom,with curtains and a carpet in it, safe from the persecutions of allthose terrible boys, and when he remembered that this was actually thelast night of his stay here--that he would certainly see his own homebefore noon next day, the reaction was so powerful that he could notrefrain from skipping and leaping about the room in a kind of hystericalgaiety.
And as he laid his head down on a yielding lavender-scented pillow, histhoughts went back without a pang to the varied events of the day; theyhad been painful, very painful, but it was well worth while to have gonethrough them to appreciate fully the delightful intensity of thecontrast. He freely forgave all his tormentors, even Chawner--for hadnot Chawner procured his release?--and he closed his eyes at last with asmile of Sybaritic satisfaction and gentle longing for the Monday's dawnto break.
And yet some, after his experiences, would have had their misgivings.