My Friend Smith Part 11

"Hawkesbury--a bad mark for--"

"Oh!" said I, starting up, "I was talking--"

"A bad mark to you, Batchelor, for interrupting me, and another for talking. Hawkesbury, a bad mark for talking in cla.s.s."

We were all astonished. We had hitherto looked upon Hawkesbury as a privileged person who might do as he liked, and upon Mr Hashford as a person who had not a soul of his own. Here was the phenomenon not only of our schoolfellow getting publicly censured, but of Mr Hashford backing up Miss Henniker, and Miss Henniker backing up Mr Hashford.

Flanagan afterwards confided to me his theory of this unwonted event.

"I expect," said he, "Hashford's just got his screw raised, and wants to show off a bit before the Hen, and she wants to encourage him to be rather more down on us, you know. She's got the toothache, too, I know, and that accounts for her not being particular who she drops on, though I am surprised she pitched on Hawkesbury. How pleased your chum Smith will be!"

But my friend Smith, when I had a chance of speaking to him, seemed indifferent about the whole affair, being taken up with troubles of his own. A letter had come for him that day, he told me, in tones of fierce anger. It had been opened and read as usual, before being handed to him. He did not complain of that; that was an indignity we had to submit to every time we received a letter. But what he did complain of, and what had roused his temper, was that the last half-sheet of the letter had been deliberately torn off and not given to him.

Directly after cla.s.s he had marched boldly to the Henniker's parlour and knocked at the door.

"Come in!" snapped she.

Smith did come in, and proceeded to business at once.

"You haven't given me all my letter, ma'am," he said.

Miss Henniker looked at him with some of the same astonishment with which she had regarded me when I once told her she was to see my socks were regularly darned.

Then she pulled herself up, in her usual chilly manner, and replied, "I am aware of that, Smith."

"I want it, please, ma'am," said Smith.

Again the Henniker glared at this audacious youth, and again she replied, "You will not have it, Smith!"

"Why not?"

"Leave the room instantly, sir, for daring to speak like that to me, and write out one hundred lines of Caesar before you get your dinner!" cried the Henniker, indignantly. "You've no right to keep--"

"Smith, follow me!" interrupted Miss Henniker, in her most irresistible voice, as she led the way to Mr Ladislaw's study.

Smith did follow her, and was flogged, of course.

I was as indignant as he was at this tale of injustice; it reminded me of my box of sweets last year, which I had never seen back.

Smith's rage was beyond all bounds. "I won't stand it!" said he; "that's all about it, Fred!"

"What can we do?" asked I.

That was the question. And there was no answering it. So we slunk back to our places, nursing our wrath in our bosoms, and vowing all sorts of vengeance on the Henniker.

Nor were we the only boys in this condition of mind. Whether it was the Henniker was thoroughly upset by her toothache, or by Hawkesbury's bad conduct and Smith's impertinence, I cannot say, but for the next day or two she even excelled herself in the way she went on.

There was nothing we could do, or think, or devise, that she did not pounce upon and punish us for. Some were detained, some were set to impositions, some were flogged, some were reduced to bread and water, some had most if not all of their worldly goods confiscated. Even Hawkesbury shared the general fate, and for a whole week all Stonebridge House groaned as it had never groaned before.

Then we could stand it no longer. We all felt that; and we all found out that everybody else felt it. But as usual the question was, what to do?

It was almost impossible to speak to one another, so closely were we watched, and even when we did, we discovered that we were all at sixes and sevens, and agreed only on one thing, which was that we _could not_ stand it.

At length one day, to our infinite jubilation, as we were dismally walking from the schoolroom to the parlour, we saw the front door open.

A fly was standing at it, and as we pa.s.sed, the Henniker in her Sunday get-up was stepping into it!

What had we done to deserve such a mercy? She was going to pay a state call somewhere, and for one blessed hour at any rate we should be at peace!

A council of war was immediately held. For once in a way Stonebridge House was unanimous. We sunk all minor differences for a time in the grand question, what should we do?

A great many wild suggestions were immediately made.

Rathbone undertook, with the aid of any two other fellows, to inflict personal chastis.e.m.e.nt on the public enemy.

This was rejected peremptorily. It would be no use, we should catch it all the worse afterwards; besides, bad as she was, the Henniker was a woman, and it would be cowardly to thrash her.

"Tie up her hands and feet and gag her," suggested Philpot.

Wouldn't do again. She'd get Ladislaw to help her out.

"Tie up Ladislaw and Hashford too."

We weren't numerous or strong enough to do it.

"Let's all bolt," suggested Flanagan.

They'd send the police after us. Or if they didn't, how were we to get on, without money or shelter or anywhere to go?

"Suppose," said I, "we shut them out of the schoolroom and barricade the door, and don't let them in till they accept our terms."

"That's more like it," said some one; "but then what about food? We can't store enough, even if we emptied the larder, to stand a long siege."

"Well, then," said Smith, "suppose we screw them up, and don't let them out till they give in."

"That's it," said every one, "the very thing."

"What do you say, Hawkesbury?" inquired I.

"Well," said he, smiling pleasantly, "it's not a nice thing to turn against one's master and mistress; but really Miss Henniker has been very vexing lately."

"Hurrah! then you agree?" And the question was put all round, every one a.s.senting. At least so I thought. But Smith as usual was doubtful of Hawkesbury.

"You agree, Hawkesbury?" said he.

"Really," said the other, with a smile, "it isn't nice to be suspected, Smith. Isn't it enough to say a thing once?"

"Oh yes, yes," cried out every one, impatiently, and most anxious to keep the meeting harmonious. "He said he did, Smith; what more do you want? Do let's pull all together."

"Just what I want," said Smith.