The Fifth Form at Saint Dominic's - LightNovelsOnl.com
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Ricketts, by the way, had not done a stroke of work that he could possibly help all the term!
All the other Fifth Form fellows they encountered echoed more or less anxiously the same advice. But the two friends were obdurate. Threats, promises, entreaties, would not put them off their row up the river, and they went on their way, leaving behind them an unusual gloom on the spirits of their dearest friends.
The only person who seemed really glad to see them leaving their work was Bramble. He, with his friend Padger, and a few other irreconcilables, were just returning from a rat-catching expedition, and the sight of the Fifth Form heroes in boating costume filled them with joy.
"Hullo--my eye--hurrah!" shouted Bramble, taking in the situation in a moment. "There they go! I hope they get drowned; don't you, Padger?"
Padger was understood to a.s.sent to this benevolent aspiration.
"Go it. _You'll_ get the Nightingale! I thought you would! Hope you get drowned, do you hear! Hurrah for the Sixth!"
At this juncture Master Paul gave chase, and for a few moments Bramble and his friends were too much engaged to speak; but at last, when the chase was over, and further reprisals were out of the question, the hero of the Tadpoles summoned up all his remaining powers to yell:
"Yah boo, Nightingale! Hope you get drowned! Yah!" after which he went his way.
The two friends paddled quietly up the river. They talked very little, but both felt relieved to be away from their books. As they went on their spirits rose, greatly to Paul's displeasure. That young gentleman, immoderately jealous for the glory of the Fifth, was content as long as the two rowers remained grave and serious; he could then make himself believe they were engaged in mental exercises favourable to Monday's examination. But as soon as they began to whistle, and chaff him and one another, and talk of their holiday adventures, Paul became displeased, for they could not possibly do this and be inwardly preparing for the examination at the same time.
However, he had to submit as best he could, and gave all his attention to steering them carefully, so that it should be no fault of his, at any rate, if they were prevented from showing up on the critical day.
"This old Shar isn't half such a jolly river as the Thames, is it, Wray?"
"Rather not!" replied Wraysford, resting on his oar; "and yet it's pretty enough in parts."
"Oh, up at the weir?--yes. But I'm out of love with weirs at present.
I shudder every time I think of that one up the Thames."
"It wasn't pleasant, certainly," said Wraysford.
"Pleasant! Old man, if you hadn't been there it would have been a good deal worse than unpleasant. Poor Stee!"
"Pull your left, Greenfield senior, or you'll be into the bank!" sung out Paul.
They paddled on again until Gusset Lock came in sight. There were very few boats about; the season was, in fact, at an end, and the river, which a month or two ago had generally swarmed with boats just at this part on Sat.u.r.day afternoons, looked quite deserted.
"Shall we go through the lock or turn round?" inquired Paul.
"May as well turn, eh, Wray?"
Paul was about to obey the order and turn the boat, when, casting his eyes on the bank, he started suddenly to his feet and exclaimed, pointing towards the lock-house, "Hullo! I say, there's something up there!"
The two others looked round; something more lively than usual was undoubtedly taking place at old Mr Cripps's residence, to judge by the shouts and laughter which proceeded from the group of people a.s.sembled near the door.
From where they were the boys in the boat could not see what the nature of the excitement was, and therefore paddled on with a view to satisfy their curiosity.
As they came up to the lock Paul suddenly exclaimed, "That's young Greenfield!"
"What!" said Oliver--"Stephen?"
"Yes, and--what _on earth_ are they doing to him?"
The boat being low down under the bank, it was impossible to see what was going on on the tow-path. Oliver, however, having once heard Stephen's name, ordered Paul to put them into the opposite bank quick, where they could land.
While this was being done a shriek from the bank sent the blood suddenly to the faces of the two friends. It was Stephen! They dashed ash.o.r.e, and in a moment were across the lock and on the spot. The spectacle which met their eyes as they came up was a strange one. The central figure was the luckless Stephen, in the clutches of three or four disreputable fellows, one of whom was Cripps the younger, who, with loud laughter at the boy's struggles and brutal unconcern at his terror, were half dragging, half carrying him towards the water's edge.
Beside them stood Loman, flushed, excited, and laughing loudly. Poor Stephen, very unlike himself, appeared to be utterly cowed and terrified, and uttered shriek upon shriek as his persecutors dragged him along.
"Oh, don't! Please, Cripps! Don't let them, Loman--don't let them drown me!" he shouted.
A laugh was the only answer.
It was at this moment, and just when, to all appearances, the boy was about to be thrown into the water, that Oliver and Wraysford appeared on the scene.
Their appearance was so sudden and unexpected that the fellows, even though they did not know who the two boys were, were momentarily taken aback and dropped their prey.
With a bound Oliver sprang furiously on Cripps, who happened to be nearest him, and before that respectable gentleman knew where he was, had dealt him a blow which sent him staggering back in the utmost alarm and astonishment. Wraysford, no less prompt, tackled one of the other blackguards, while Stephen, now released, and cured of his momentary terror by the appearance of the rescuers, did his share manfully with one of the others.
The contest was short and sharp. A pair of well-trained athletic schoolboys, with a plucky youngster to help them, are a match any day for twice the number of half-tipsy cads. In a minute or two the field was clear of all but Cripps, who appeared, after his short experience, by no means disposed to continue the contest single-handed. As for Loman, he had disappeared.
"What is all this?" demanded Oliver, when at last, breathless and pale with excitement, he could find words.
"Oh, Noll!" cried Stephen, "I'll tell you all about it. But let's get away from here."
"No, I won't go!" shouted Oliver--"not till I know what it all means.
You fellow!" added he, walking up to Cripps, "you'd better speak or I'll thrash you!"
Mr Cripps, who had had time to recover somewhat from his first surprise, looked a little inclined to defy his young antagonist, but, thinking better of it, suddenly a.s.sumed his usual impudent swagger as he replied, with a laugh, "Come, I say, you _do_ do it well, you do! It was a joke--just a joke, young gentleman. You've no occasion to flurry yourself; we wouldn't have hurt a hair of the young gentleman's head.
Ask Mr Loman."
"Where's Loman?" demanded Oliver. "Gone," said Stephen. "But I say, Noll, do come away. I'll tell you all about it. Do come."
Cripps laughed. "Don't you swallow all that young swell tells you.
He's a nice boy, he is, but--well, he'd better mind what he says, that's all!"
"Do come away!" once more entreated Stephen.
"Yes, do come away," laughed Cripps, mimicking the boy's tones. "When I calls up at the school I'll let them all know what a nice young prig he is, coming down and drinking at my public-house and then turning round on me. Never fear! _I'll_ let them know, my beauties! I'll have a talk with your Doctor and open his eyes for him. Good-bye, you sneaking young--"
"Look here!" said Wraysford, quietly walking up to the blackguard in the midst of this discourse, "if you don't stop instantly you'll be sorry for it."
Cripps stared a moment at the speaker, and at the first he held out.
Then, without another word, he turned on his heel into the cottage, leaving the three boys standing in undisputed possession of the tow-path.
"Come on, how, old man!" said Wraysford; "we can't do any good by staying here."
Oliver looked disposed to resist, and cast a glance at the cottage door by which Cripps had just vanished. But he let himself be persuaded eventually, and turned gloomily towards the boat. Here Paul, who had been a witness of the _fracas_ on the tow-path, was waiting, ready to steer home, and bursting with curiosity to hear all Stephen had to say.
Greatly to his disgust, Oliver said, peremptorily, "You'll have to walk home, Paul; Stephen will steer."
"Why, you said I might steer."