Oh, if Edwin could have known that he was in such company at such a place! And by the door stood Billy, watching them all like an evil spirit, with a leer of saturnine malice on his evil face.

But the bright little Wildney, unconscious of Eric's bitter thoughts, sang on with overflowing mirth. As Eric looked at him, shining out like a sunbeam among the rest, he felt something like blood-guiltiness on his soul, when, he felt that he was sanctioning the young boy's presence in that degraded a.s.semblage.

Wildney meanwhile was just beginning the next verse, when he was interrupted by a general cry of "cave, cave." In an instant the room was in confusion; some one dashed the candles upon the floor, the table was overturned with a mighty crash, and plates, gla.s.ses, and bottles rushed on to the ground in shivers. Nearly every one bolted for the door, which led through the pa.s.sage into the street; and in their headlong flight and selfishness, they stumbled over each other, and prevented all egress, several being knocked down and bruised in the crush. Others made for the tap-room; but, as they opened the door leading into it, there stood Mr. Ready and Mr. Gordon! and as it was impossible to pa.s.s without being seen, they made no further attempt at escape. All this was the work of a minute. Entering the back parlor, the two masters quickly took down the names of full half the boys who, in the suddenness of the surprise, had been unable to make their exit.

And Eric?

The instant that the candles were knocked over, he felt Wildney seize his hand, and whisper, "This way all serene;" following, he groped his way in the dark to the end of the room, where Wildney, shoving aside a green baize curtain, noiselessly opened a door, which at once let them into a little garden. There they both crouched down, under a lilac tree beside the house, and listened intently.

There was no need for this precaution; their door remained unsuspected, and in five minutes the coast was clear. Creeping into the house again, they whistled, and Billy coming in, told them that the masters had gone, and all was safe.

"Glad ye're not twigged, gen'lmen," he said; "but there'll be a pretty sight of damage for all this gla.s.s and plates."

"Shut up with your gla.s.s and plates," said Wildney. "Here, Eric, we must cut for it again."

It was the dusk of a winter evening when they got out from the close room into the open air, and they had to consider which way they would choose to avoid discovery. They happened to choose the wrong, but escaped by dint of hard running, and Wildney's old short cut. As they ran they pa.s.sed several boys (who having been caught, were walking home leisurely), and managed to get back undiscovered, when they both answered their names quite innocently at the roll-call, immediately after lock up.

"What lucky dogs you are to get off," said many boys to them.

"Yes, it's precious lucky for me," said Wildney. "If I'd been caught at this kind of thing a second time, I should have got something worse than a swishing."

"Well, it's all through you I escaped," said Eric, "you knowing little scamp."

"I'm glad of it, Eric," said Wildney in his fascinating way, "since it is all through me you went. It's rather too hazardous though; we must manage better another time."

During tea-time Eric was silent, as he felt pretty sure that none of the sixth form or other study boys would particularly sympathise with his late a.s.sociates. Since the previous evening he had been cool with Duncan, and the rest had long rather despised him as a boy who'd do anything to be popular; so he sat there silent, looking as disdainful as he could, and not touching the tea, for which he felt disinclined after the recent potations. But the contemptuous exterior hid a self-reproving heart, and he felt how far more n.o.ble Owen and Montagu were than he. How gladly would he have changed places with them! how much he would have given to recover some of their forfeited esteem!

The master on duty was Mr. Rose, and after tea he left the room for a few minutes while the tables were cleared for "preparation," and the boys were getting out their books and exercises. All the study and cla.s.s-room boys were expected to go away during this interval; but Eric, not noticing Mr. Rose's entrance, sat gossipping with Wildney about the dinner and its possible consequences to the school.

He was sitting on the desk carelessly, with one leg over the other, and bending down towards Wildney. He had just told him that he looked like a regular little sunbeam in the smoking-room of the Jolly Herring, and Wildney was pretending to be immensely offended by the simile.

"Hush! no more talking," said Mr. Rose, who did everything very gently and quietly. Eric heard him, but he was inclined to linger, and had always received such mild treatment from Mr. Rose, that he didn't think he would take much notice of the delay. For the moment he did not, so Wildney began to chatter again.

"All study boys to leave the room," said Mr. Rose.

Eric just glanced round and moved slightly; he might have gone away, but that he caught a satirical look in Wildney's eye, and besides wanted to show off a little indifference to his old master, with whom he had had no intercourse since their last-mentioned conversation.

"Williams, go away instantly; what do you mean by staying after I have dismissed you?" said Mr. Rose sternly.

Every one knew what a favorite Eric had once been, so this speech created a slight t.i.tter. The boy heard it just as he was going out of the room, and it annoyed him, and called to arms all his proud and dogged obstinacy. Pretending to have forgotten something, he walked conceitedly back to Wildney, and whispered to him, "I shan't go if he chooses to speak like that."

A red flush pa.s.sed over Mr. Rose's cheek; he took two strides to Eric, and laid the cane sharply once across his back.

Eric was not quite himself, or he would not have acted as he had done.

His potations, though not deep, had, with the exciting events of the evening, made his head giddy, and the stroke of the cane, which he had not felt now for two years, roused him to madness. He bounded up, sprang towards Mr. Rose, and almost before he knew what he was about, had wrenched the cane out of his hands, twisted it violently in the middle until it broke, and flung one of the pieces furiously into the fire.

For one instant, boy and master--Eric Williams and Mr. Rose--stood facing each other amid breathless silence, the boy panting and pa.s.sionate, with his brain swimming, and his heart on fire; the master pale, grieved, amazed beyond measure, but perfectly self-collected.

"After that exhibition," said Mr. Rose, with cold and quiet dignity, "you had better leave the room."

"Yes, I had," answered Eric bitterly; "there's your cane." And, flinging the other fragment at Mr. Rose's head, he strode blindly out of the room, sweeping books from the table, and overturning several boys in his way. He then banged the door with all his force, and rushed up into his study.

Duncan was there, and remarking his wild look and demeanor, asked, after a moment's awkward silence, "Is anything the matter, Williams?"

"Williams!" echoed Eric with a scornful laugh; "yes, that's always the way with a fellow when he's in trouble. I always know what's coming when you begin to leave off calling me by my Christian name."

"Very well, then," said Duncan, good-humoredly, "what's the matter, Eric?"

"Matter?" answered Brie, pacing up and down the little room with an angry to-and-fro like a caged wild beast, and kicking everything which came in his way. "Matter? hang you all, you are all turning against me, because you are a set of m.u.f.fs, and----"

"Take care!" said Duncan; but suddenly he caught Eric's look, and stopped.

"And I've been breaking Rose's cane over his head, because he had the impudence to touch, me with it, and----"

"Eric, you're not yourself to-night," said Duncan, interrupting, but speaking in the kindest tone; and taking Eric's hand, he looked him steadily in the face.

Their eyes met; the boy's false self once more slipped off. By a strong effort he repressed the rising pa.s.sion which the fumes of drink had caused, and flinging him self on his chair, refused to speak again, or even to go down stairs when the prayer-bell rang.

Seeing that in his present mood there was nothing to be done with him, Duncan, instead of returning to the study, went after prayers into Montagu's, and talked with him over the recent events, of which the boys' minds were all full.

But Eric sat lonely, sulky, and miserable, in his study, doing nothing, and when Montagu came in to visit him, felt inclined to resent his presence.

"So!" he said, looking up at the ceiling, "another saint come to cast a stone at me! Well! I suppose I must be resigned," he continued, dropping his cheek on his hand again; "only don't let the sermon be long."

But Montagu took no notice of his sardonic harshness, and seated himself by his side, though Eric pettishly pushed him away.

"Come, Eric," said Montagu, taking the hand which was repelling him; "I won't be repulsed in this way. Look at me. What? won't you even look? Oh Eric, one wouldn't have fancied this in past days, when we were so much together with one who is dead. It's a long long time since we've eyen alluded to him, but _I_ shall never forget those happy days."

Eric heaved a deep sigh.

"I'm not come to reproach you. You don't give me a friend's right to reprove. But still, Eric, for your own sake, dear fellow, I can't help being sorry for all this. I did hope you'd have broken with Brigson after the thrashing I gave him, for the way in which he treated me. I don't think you _can_ know the mischief he is doing."

The large tears began to soften the fire of Eric's eye, "Ah!" he said, "it's all of no use; you're all giving me the cold shoulder, and I'm going to the bad, that's the long and short of it."

"Oh, Eric! for your own sake, for your parents' sake, for the school's sake, for all your real friends' sake, don't talk in that bitter hopeless way. You are too n.o.ble a fellow to be made the tool or the patron of the boys who lead, while they seem to follow you. I _do_ hope you'll join us even yet in resisting them."

Eric had laid his head on the table, which shook with his emotion. "I can't talk, Monty," he said, in an altered tone; "but leave me now; and if you like, we will have a walk to-morrow."

"Most willingly, Eric." And again, warmly pressing his hand, Montagu returned to his own study.

Soon after, there came a timid knock at Eric's door. He expected Wildney as usual; a little before, he had been looking out for him, and hoping he would come, but he didn't want to see him now, so he answered rather peevishly, "Come in; but I don't want to be bothered to-night."

Not Wildney, but Vernon appeared at the door. "May I come in? not if it bothers you, Eric," he said, gently.

"Oh, Verny, I didn't know it was you; I thought it would be Wildney. You _never_ come now."

The little boy came in, and his pleading look seemed to say, "Whose fault is that?"

"Come here, Verny;" and Eric drew him towards him, and put him on his knee, while the tears trembled large and luminous in the child's eyes.