The Willoughby Captains - Reed Talbot Baines - Страница 45
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Next morning he went to the doctor and told him he was ready to enter on his new duties. Dr Patrick was not the man to flatter his head boy or to inspire him with undue hopes; but he was undoubtedly gratified by the decision, and Riddell felt encouraged in the consciousness of his sympathy.
At call-over that evening the Welchers had the pleasure of being informed by the doctor of the new arrangements proposed for their welfare, and, it need hardly be said, were considerably moved thereby.
At first they were disposed to regard the affair as a joke and a capital piece of fun. But when that evening Riddell put in an appearance at supper, in their house, and when Telson was intercepted bringing over his late master’s goods and chattels to the study next but one to that of Silk, they began to take the matter in rather more seriously.
For the first time for a long while Welch’s house seemed to be of one mind — a mind made up of equal mixtures of resentment and amazement and amusement. Probably, had they been more accustomed to thinking together, they would have summoned a monster meeting, as Parrett’s would have done, to discuss the situation. As it was, they resolved themselves into several small groups, each of which dealt with the topic of the hour in its own way.
The juniors of course had a good deal to say on the subject. Pilbury, Cusack, Philpot, Morgan, and a few other kindred spirits held a council of war in the study of the two former immediately after supper.
“Rum start this, eh, Pil!” said Cusack, by way of opening proceedings.
“You know,” said Pil, confidentially, “I’m not surprised. He made such a regular mess of it in the schoolhouse.”
“Don’t know what’s the good of his coming here, then,” said Philpot; “our fellows aren’t a bit quieter than the schoolhouse.”
No one was bold enough to dispute this peculiarly modest description of the order of Welch’s house.
“I wonder if he’s been kicked out of the captaincy as well?” asked Cusack, who was apparently convinced in his own mind that the new move was a degradation for Riddell.
“I don’t know,” said Morgan; “Paddy said something about it being a good thing for us to get the captain of the school as head of our house.”
“Oh, ah — a jolly good thing,” said Pilbury; “jolly lookout for us if he’s stuck here to pull us up whenever we have a lark.”
“Bless you, he can’t pull a fellow up!” said somebody. “They said he used to now and then in the schoolhouse.”
“Not he. He’s afraid to look at a chap.”
“I say,” said Cusack, “rather a spree to fetch him, eh, you fellows, and see how he does. Eh?”
“I’m game,” said Pilbury; “what shall we do? Smash in his study-door?”
“Oh, no,” said Cusack, “no use doing that. Let’s give him ‘Bouncer’ to start with.”
“That ought to startle him up,” said Philpot, laughing, “if he’s not used to it.”
“Rather — open the door a bit, Morgan. Now, you fellows, are you all game? All together.”
And with that the party struck up at the top of their voices the famous old Willoughby chorus, of which the first verse runs as follows:
This poetic record of the virtues and accomplishments of their legendary school hero gave ample scope, as the reader may surmise, for spirited declamation; and on the present occasion more Welchers than Riddell were startled by the sudden and vehement outburst of the patriotic hymn. Indeed, as it appeared to be a point of honour with the vocalists to pitch no two voices in the same key, the effect was even alarming, and suggested the sudden letting loose of a menagerie.
The singers waited meekly for a few seconds to see whether their efforts had met with the success they deserved. But as a dead silence reigned, and no one came, they considerately determined to give their audience another chance; and therefore launched forthwith into the second verse, which was delivered with even more dramatic power than the first:
This time the heroic efforts of the melodious juniors had their reward. Before the last line was reached the door of the new captain’s study opened, and Riddell appeared in the passage. His first appearance in his new capacity was naturally a matter of curiosity on every hand; and as he approached the scene of the noise he became aware that almost every occupant of the passage was standing at his door, watching curiously for what was to happen.
He certainly did not look, as he walked nervously down the corridor, the sort of fellow to quell a riot; and any one might have prophesied that he was not likely to come off any better now than he did when he once went on a similar errand to the stronghold of the Limpets.
And yet the weeks that had elapsed since then had not been thrown away on Riddell. Would the reader like to hear what his thoughts were as he neared the scene of his trial?
“What had I better do? If I get in a rage I shall only make a fool of myself; if I report them to the doctor I shall be shirking my own work; if I remonstrate mildly and do no more, my chances in Welch’s are done for, and these fellows who are on the lookout for my failure will get their crow. I must get on the right side of these youngsters if I can, so here goes!”
With this reflection he reached the door just as the third verse of “Bouncer” commenced, the performers having carefully turned their backs so as to appear wholly unconscious of a visitor. Verse three referred altogether to the intellectual attainments of the wonderful Bouncer.
Before this spirit-stirring recital had reached its climax one or two of the performers had found it impossible to resist a look round to see how the captain took it. So that the “surprise” at finding him standing there at its conclusion fell rather flat.
Much to the disappointment of the spectators outside, moreover, Riddell shut the door behind him. The juniors eyed him curiously. Contrary to their expectation, he neither looked frightened nor confused, but his face was as cheery as his voice as he said, “You see, I couldn’t resist your beautiful music.”
Was he in jest or earnest? Did he really mean he had enjoyed the chorus, or was he poking fun at them? They could not quite tell.
“Oh,” said Cusack, not quite as defiantly, however, as he could have wished, “that’s a song we sing among ourselves, isn’t it, you fellows?”
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