Читать книгу Captains of Harley - Hylton Cleaver - Страница 5

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The new Headmaster of Harley was a man of considerable importance and an overpowering belief in himself; for which reason he formed hasty opinions, and having once formed them believed them to be correct for ever afterwards. In appearance he was not unlike a bloodhound in spectacles, and his manner was appropriately grim.

The first case that came before his notice was that of Arthur, and he dealt with it in person. “Because,” said he, “at Wilton I had the reputation of knowing each boy individually, and I should like to know each boy here as soon as I possibly can.”

The railway company had reported that Arthur had had the audacity to travel upon their line without a ticket, and Arthur was accordingly brought in and required to furnish his explanation of the outrage. This he did in the most heart-rending manner, with second-hand sort of tears spurting from his eyes all the time, and with such effect that, after listening to his pitiable tale, the new Head became convinced that he had been set upon in the train by a cowardly ruffian belonging to the school, and apparently even a prefect of it, who had wrenched his ticket from him by brute force and torn it to shreds before his very eyes. Arthur went so far as to give detailed information. The felon’s name was Rouse. He had introduced himself. And he was a friend of a boy called Nicholson, whose brother was a master at school.

The new Head sent him away with a comforting pat on the shoulder and settled himself down to consider a fitting punishment for the scoundrel who could do such a thing.

Now as luck would have it, that afternoon he was standing in majesty beside his window, looking out upon the kingdom he had come to govern, when his eye lighted upon a Rugby game in progress upon a distant football ground, and he suddenly came to an abrupt decision.

“At Wilton,” he told the bursar, “I had the reputation of only going out to watch games when I was least expected to do so.”

He nodded his head pleasantly.

He would take the boys of Harley completely by surprise. He moved swiftly to the door and disappeared.

As a matter of fact it was, in the result, he himself who was taken by surprise, and he returned with a dour expression and sent for Mr Nicholson.

Toby appeared before him in due course.

It was immediately clear to Toby that in Dr Roe he perceived a gentleman with a strong sense of dramatic effect, and he now stood by and prepared to watch what he imagined would be a very powerful piece of acting, indicating wrath.

The Head was, however, deep in thought, and whilst Toby waited he noticed several little things, the first of which was that the carpet did not match the colouring of the new Headmaster’s nose. He also noticed that Dr Roe’s handwriting sloped backwards, which he knew for a bad sign in any man. He then adjusted the hang of his trousers, blew his nose, wiped his eyes, and commenced to count the roses on one square yard of the wall-paper, first with one eye and then with the other. Finding that the result was the same in each case, and deducing therefrom that his sight was still good, he cleared his throat and approached the wall with a view to observing school life from a window.

As soon as he had turned Dr Roe broke into speech, thus to Toby’s mind having him at a disadvantage from the start. When Toby distrusted a man he liked to look in his eye all the time.

The new Head rose slowly to his feet, lifted one hand until it was a suitable height from the table, clenched it and brought it down with a bang upon a large book. He then lifted his hand again, shook his finger at Toby as if in reproach, and began to speak rapidly.

“Only this morning,” said he, “I had a little boy before me who had undoubtedly come up against a bully. He was terrified. He came in here and cried.... He had been set upon in the train and robbed of his ticket. At Wilton I had the reputation of being a lightning judge of character and an infallible one, and I can tell you at once that this boy was undoubtedly speaking the truth. In ten minutes’ conversation I came to know him as well as he knew himself, and I shall watch over him henceforward with interest.” He paused. “I decided,” said he, “to delay punishment of the offender a short while and to get to know more about this bully whilst he still had no reason to suppose that his conduct was known to me. I may tell you that at Wilton I had the reputation of knowing how to wait.”

This seemed to Toby a very useful second string to any man’s bow. Dismissed from the post of Headmaster, Dr Roe would at least be able to find lucrative employment in a smart restaurant.

However, he made no comment.

“This afternoon,” continued the Head, “I went out to watch the boys playing football. Certainly I did not arrive till after half time, but I may tell you that to my mind the game I then witnessed was mere tomfoolery—a burlesque, sir—deliberate clowning.”

“Yes, sir,” said Toby cheerfully. “It was the first game of the term. New-comers sides.”

“Then, perhaps, you will tell me,” said the new Head somewhat hotly, “the name of the presumably senior boy—a fellow in a tasselled cap anyway—whose whole object was to get in people’s way and interfere in the game as much as possible, and who did it, moreover, purely to vent his spite against the very boy who was before me this morning?”

“You mean Rouse,” said Toby. “He’s captain of foot——”

The Head rose up and made a fiery gesture.

“I knew it,” said he. “I knew it. They used to say at Wilton that my sense of instinct was uncanny—they used to say that I always guessed right. I guessed right this afternoon. As soon as I saw that little boy being pursued about the grass I knew it was Rouse.... I knew the little fellow had been speaking the truth. Rouse, Mr Nicholson, was the name of the fellow who tore up his ticket on the journey from London.” He paused sensationally. “It may be,” said he, “that you were engrossed with your duties as referee this afternoon. Possibly you did not notice that feature of the game which was most evident to me. Throughout the twenty minutes that I was there the fellow Rouse was on the little boy’s track without respite. I personally saw him viciously cane the lad on the field, and a worse example of flagrant bullying has seldom come before my notice.”

Toby cleared his throat and began to explain.

“I don’t care one atom about custom,” said the Head, when he had listened thirty seconds. “I may be new to this school but I am not an idiot. Public School customs are in constant abuse—take this very example. You teach Rugby football with a switch. The first thing that I notice is that a senior boy, against whom evidence has already been laid, is deliberately using his switch to terrorise a little boy.”

“Oh no,” said Toby, with a polite smile. “You’re——”

The Head made another gesture.

“Oh yes,” said he, with considerable force. “Surely I can use my own eyes!”

Toby began again.

“Don’t argue, Mr Nicholson,” said Dr Roe. “At Wilton I had the reputation of rarely showing my temper, but of showing it very thoroughly when it was roused. And it is roused now. Do you mean to tell me that this boy is actually captain of football?”

“Yes,” said Toby mildly; “and a very good captain too. He’s one of the most popular boys in the school.”

The Head was somewhat taken aback.

“Well, at all events,” said he, “I don’t remember noticing him in the Sixth Form.”

It was an awkward point. Toby moved slightly upon his feet. He was not going to confess that Rouse was one of the school’s pet dunces.

“He’s not in the Sixth Form yet,” said he.

The Head clapped his hands and sprang nimbly from one foot to the other.

“Then,” said he, “how can he be captain of football if he’s not even a prefect?”

“He is a prefect. The late Headmaster specially wished him to be. He knew that he would be captain of football this term, and he considered it would be a very good thing indeed for the boy’s character. Of course the captain of each sport here is a prefect ex officio, whether he’s in the Sixth or not, and the Head wished him to have a full term as a prefect before he became captain of Rugger.”

The Head considered this point with a portentous frown, and at last he looked up at Toby and said:

“I think you had better know at once that those are not my principles. To my mind the boy who leads the school team on to the field of play should be the boy who is captain of the school, and if by any chance he himself is not a very keen footballer, then the next senior boy should take his place. Boys have to be made to learn that being able to kick a football in a certain direction with a certain force is not everything in life. And they learn that best if they find that a boy is not allowed to be captain of football unless he is also one of the most senior boys in the Sixth Form.”

He paused and sat down like one who is conscious of having performed a righteous duty. Toby began to go hot and cold all over.

“Every school has its unwritten laws, sir,” he began. “It has always been the understanding here that each game is captained by the boy who is best or most senior at it, irrespective of his scholastic ability.”

The Head grew visibly annoyed.

“I have already told you that I do not agree with that principle, Mr Nicholson,” said he; “and to-morrow I shall visit this boy’s form and question him on his general knowledge. It remains to be seen from the opinion I then form whether I consider him a suitable boy to remain a prefect under my headmastership, or to lead the school on the football field. I must say that from the judgment I formed of him this afternoon he is most unsuitable for those duties.”

Toby essayed a protest.

“But, sir,” said he, “this boy has been elected by the school.... He is their chosen captain.”

Dr Roe rose in his majesty. Unfortunately he was a man of somewhat ordinary build, and as against Toby, therefore, he did not in this respect cut much ice. He lifted his hand above his head, and bringing it slowly horizontal, indicated Toby with a bunch of fingers.

“Mr Nicholson,” said he, “whilst I am Headmaster of this school no boy is elected to any position without my authority. I have been a schoolmaster all my life, and at Wilton I had the reputation of making sometimes apparently ruthless decisions and of sticking to them through thick and thin. I do not crave popularity.... I have strong ideas and a strong will. If necessary the boys here will be made to understand that at once. It may save considerable heart burnings afterwards.”

He paused and glared at Toby as if in challenge. Toby declined with thanks. It was clear that he would not improve matters by saying more at the moment. There was a brief silence. At last the new Head looked up.

“There is another thing,” said he. “I like games to be taken seriously. Such frivolity as I saw this afternoon tends to have a very bad effect upon a boy. I hope you will bear that in mind in future games which you conduct.”

Toby drew a deep breath.

“I think you will understand better, sir,” said he, “if you will listen to me for a moment. The boy that you think was being terrorised had been laughing as loudly as any boy possibly could throughout the first half, whilst other boys with a better spirit were learning to play.”

“Well,” said the Head crossly, “considering he was crying only this morning, why shouldn’t he laugh? I am very glad to know that his talk with me had so reassured him.”

“It is a bad thing,” said Toby, “for boys who are learning a game to be laughed at from the touch-line by those who don’t care to try it themselves. Rugby football is compulsory at this school, and that fact has a very excellent effect. It was I who told him to come on and play. There was no bullying.”

“My dear Nicholson,” said Dr Roe, “I have been a schoolmaster longer probably than you have been alive. Do you really think that I do not know a bully when I see one?”

Toby endeavoured to retain his calm.

“It is possible to be mistaken.”

“I am not mistaken,” snapped the other.

“But you see, sir,” insisted Toby, “you haven’t even spoken to Rouse.”

“Because,” said Dr Roe, “I wish to learn all I possibly can about him before I do. I have spoken to the other lad, and I am satisfied that he is telling the truth. I have seen this fellow Rouse making himself a clown at a football match, and I have learnt from you that, although he has been five years at the school, he is not yet in the Sixth Form. It is clear that you have a good opinion of him yourself, but you are, after all, a young man, Nicholson.”

“What has that to do with it?” asked Toby smilingly.

“Well... I understand,” said the other, “that this boy is the bosom chum of your own brother; and it is therefore not unlikely that he is a friend of your own....” He looked at Toby searchingly. “Under these circumstance, I cannot altogether expect that your good opinion of him is entirely unprejudiced.”

“Then,” said Toby, “why did you trouble to ask my opinion, sir?”

“I sent for you,” said the Head, “because you are games master, and I want to tell you that I do not approve of such buffoonery as took place during the game this afternoon.”

Toby’s natural inclination was to bow politely and ask leave to pack his bag. But it was at just such a time as this that his love for Harley grew most profound. So he kept silent, and he stood for a moment looking at the new Headmaster thoughtfully and as clearly in pity as he deemed polite.

“Do you wish to see Rouse?” said he at last.

“Certainly I shall see Rouse—but I shall not see him here. At Wilton I had the reputation of never doing the expected. I shall walk across to his house and speak to his house master. Then I shall visit him in his study. When you are older, Nicholson, you will know that it is in his own haunts, and when he is not expecting visitors, that you find animal or man as he really is.”

Toby’s heart sank. He looked dismally into the future and he could see no sunshine at all. With a Headmaster like this there could be no hope. It was going to be a lean year.

Well, if it was a question of Harley’s principles going under to a man who merely sought to make a sensational entry into the school, he would have to fight. And in the immediate future he would have to fight for Rouse. So in his mind’s eye he made a few movements as of a sailor about to start a hornpipe and followed the Headmaster out of the room. Dr Roe turned.

“That will be all, Mr Nicholson, thank you,” said he. “I will go alone.”