"Well, sir, have you found them?" asked Thomas, entering.

"No, Thomas," replied I dolefully, "nor ever shall, I fear; but will you go to 'Dr. Mildman, and tell him, with my respects, that I cannot get up to breakfast this morning, and, if he asks what is the matter with me, say that I am prevented from coming down by _severe cold_. I am sure that is true enough," added I, shivering.

"Well, sir, I will, if you wish it; but I don't exactly see the good of it; you _must_ get up some time or other."

"I don't know," replied I gloomily, "we shall see; only do you take my message."

And he accordingly left the room, muttering as he did so, "Well, I calls this a great deal too bad, and I'll tell master of it myself, if n.o.body else won't".

"Tell master of it himself!"--he also suspected him then. This crushed my last faint hope that, after all, it might turn out to be only a trick of the pupils; and, overpowered by the utter vileness and depravity of him who was set in authority over me, I buried my face in the pillow, feeling a strong inclination to renew the lamentations of the preceding night. Not many minutes had elapsed when the sound of a heavy footstep slowly ascending the stairs attracted my attention. I raised my head, and beheld the benevolent countenance (for even then it certainly did wear a benevolent expression) of my wicked tutor, regarding me with a mingled look of scrutiny and pity.

"Why, Fairlegh, what's all this?--Thomas tells me you are not able to come down to breakfast; you are not ill, I hope?"

"No, sir," replied I, "I don't think I am very ill, but I _can't_ come down to breakfast."

"Not ill, and yet you can't come down to breakfast! pray, what in the world prevents you?"

"Perhaps," said I (for I was becoming angry at what I considered his unparalleled effrontery, and thought I would give him a hint that he could not deceive me so easily as he seemed to expect), "perhaps you can tell that better than I can."

-17--"I, my boy!--I'm afraid not; my pretensions to the t.i.tle of doctor are based on divinity, not physic:--however, put out your tongue--that's right enough; let me feel your hand--a little cold or so, but nothing to signify; did this kind of seizure ever happen to you at home?"

Well, this was adding insult to injury with a vengeance; not content with stealing my clothes himself, but actually asking me whether such things did not happen at home! The wretch! thought I; does he suppose that everybody is as wicked as himself?

"No," I answered, my voice trembling with the anger I was scarcely able to repress; "no, sir, such a thing never could happen in my dear father's house."

"There, don't agitate yourself; you seem excited: perhaps you _had_ better lie in bed a little longer; I will send you up something warm, and after that you may feel more inclined to get up," said he kindly, adding to himself, as he left the room, "Very strange boy--I can't make him out at all".

The door closed, and I was once more alone. "Is he guilty or not guilty?" thought I; "if he really has taken the clothes, he is the most accomplished hypocrite I ever heard of; yet he _must_ have done so, everything combines to prove it--Thomas's speech--nay, even his own offer of sending me 'something warm'; something warm, indeed! what do I want with anything warm, except my trousers? No! the fact was beyond dispute; they were gone, and he had stolen them, whilst I, unhappy youth, was entirely in his power, and had not therefore a chance of redress. 'But I will not bear it,' cried I, 'I'll write to my father--I'll run away--I'll------'"

"Hurrah!" shouted Thomas, rushing into the room with his arm full of clothes, "here they are, sir; I have found the whole kit of them at last."

"Where?" exclaimed I eagerly.

"Where? why in such a queer place!" replied he, "stuffed up the chimbley in master's study; but I have given them a good brushing, and they are none the worse for it, except them blessed white ducks; they are almost black ducks now, though they will wash, so that don't signify none."

"Up the chimney, in master's study!" here was at last proof positive; my clothes had been actually found in his possession--oh, the wickedness of this world!

"But how did you ever find them?" asked I.

"Why! I happened to go in to fetch something, and I see'd a little bit of the leg of one of them hanging down -18--the chimbley, so I guessed how it all was, directly. I think I know how they got there, too; they did not walk there by themselves, I should say."

"I wish they had," muttered I.

"I thought _somebody_ was up too early this morning to be about any good," continued he; "he is never out of bed till the last moment, without there's some mischief in the wind."

This was pretty plain speaking, however. Thomas was clearly as well aware of his master's nefarious practices as the pupils themselves, and Lawless's amiable desire to conceal Dr. Mildman's sins from his servant's knowledge was no longer of any avail. I hastened, therefore (the only reason for silence being thus removed), to relieve my mind from the burden of just indignation which was oppressing it.

"And can you, Thomas," exclaimed I, with flashing eyes, "remain the servant of a man who dares thus to outrage every law, human and divine?

one who having taken upon himself the sacred office of a clergyman of the Church of England, and so made it his especial duty to set a good example to all around him, can take advantage of the situation in which he is placed in regard to his pupils, and actually demean himself by purloining the clothes of the young men" (I felt five-and-twenty at the very least at that moment) "committed to his charge?--why, my father------"

What I imagined my father would have said or done under these circ.u.mstances was fated to remain a mystery, as my eloquence was brought to a sudden conclusion by my consternation, when a series of remarkable phenomena, which had been developing themselves during my harangue in the countenance of Thomas, terminated abruptly in what appeared to me a fit of most unmitigated insanity. A look of extreme astonishment, which he had a.s.sumed at the beginning of my speech, had given place to an expression of mingled surprise and anger as I continued; which again in its turn had yielded to a grin of intense amus.e.m.e.nt, growing every moment broader and broader, accompanied by a spasmodic twitching of his whole person; and, as I mentioned his master's purloining my trousers, he suddenly sprang up from the floor nearly a yard high, and commenced an extempore _pas seul_ of a Jim Crow character, which he continued with unabated vigour during several minutes. This "_Mazurka d'ecstase_," or whatever a ballet-master would have called it, having at length, to my great joy, concluded, the performer of it sank exhausted into a chair, and regarding me with a face still -19--somewhat the worse for his late violent exertions favoured me with the following geographical remark:--

"Well, I never did believe in the existence of sich a place as Greenland before, but there's nowhere else as you could have come from, sir, I am certain."

"Eh! why! what's the matter with you? have I done anything particularly 'green,' as you call it? what are you talking about?" said I, not feeling exactly pleased at the reception my virtuous indignation had met with.

"Oh! don't be angry, sir; I am sure I did not mean to offend you; but really I could not help it, when I heard you say about master's having stole your things. Oh lor!" he added, holding his sides with both hands, "how my precious sides do ache, sure-ly!"

"Do you consider that any laughing matter?" said I, still in the dark.

"Oh! don't, sir, don't say it again, or you will be the death of me," replied Thomas, struggling against a relapse; "why, bless your innocence, what could ever make you think master would take your clothes?"

"Make me think? why, Lawless told me so," answered I, "and he also said it was not the first time such a thing had occurred either."

"You'll have enough to do, sir, if you believe all our young gents tell you; why, master would as soon think of flying as of stealing anything.

It was Mr. Coleman as put them up the chimbley; he's always a playing some trick or another for everlasting."

A pause ensued, during which the whole affair in its true bearings became for the first time clear to my mind's eye; the result of my cogitations may be gathered from the following remark, which escaped me as it were involuntarily--"What a confounded a.s.s I have made of myself, _to be sure_!"

Should any of my readers be rude enough to agree with me in this particular, let them reflect for a moment on the peculiar position in which I was placed. Having lived from childhood in a quiet country parsonage, with my father and mother, and a sister younger than myself, as my sole companions, "mystification"--that is, telling deliberate falsehoods by way of a joke--was a perfectly novel idea to me; and, when that joke involved the possibility of such serious consequences as offending the tutor under whose care we were placed, I (wholly ignorant of the impudence and recklessness of public school boys) considered such a solution of the mystery inconceivable. Moreover, everything around me was so strange, and so entirely -20--different from the habits of life in which I had been hitherto brought up, that for the time my mind was completely bewildered. I appeared to have lost my powers of judgment, and to have relapsed, as far as intellect was concerned, into childhood again. My readers must excuse this digression, but it appeared to me necessary to explain how it was possible for a lad of fifteen to have been made the victim of such a palpably absurd deception without its involving the necessity of his not being "so sharp as he should be".

The promised "something warm" made its appearance ere long, in the shape of tea and toast, which, despite my alarming seizure, I demolished with great gusto in bed (for I did not dare to get up), feeling, from the fact of my having obtained it under false pretences, very like a culprit all the while. Having finished my breakfast, and allowed sufficient time to elapse for my recovery, I got up, and, selecting a pair of trousers which appeared to have suffered less from their sojourn in the chimney than the others, dressed myself, and soon after eleven o'clock made my appearance in the pupils' room, where I found Dr. Mildman seated at his desk, and the pupils apparently very hard at work.

"How do you find yourself now you are up, Fairlegh?" inquired my tutor kindly.

"Quite well, sir, thank you," I replied, feeling like an impostor.

"Quite recovered?" continued he.

"Everything--entirely, I mean," stammered I, thinking of my trousers.

"That's well, and now let us see what kind of Latin and Greek lining you have got to your head."

So saying, without appearing to notice the t.i.ttering of the pupils, he pointed to a seat by his side, and commenced what I considered a very formidable examination, with the view of eliciting the extent of my acquaintance with the writers of antiquity, which proved to be extremely select. When he had thoroughly satisfied (or dissatisfied) himself upon this point, he recommended Horace and Xenophon to my particular notice, adding, that Coleman was also directing his attention to the sayings and doings of the same honourable and learned gentlemen--and that, therefore, we were to work together. He then explained to me certain rules and regulations of his establishment, to which he added a few moral remarks, conveying the information, that, if I always did exactly what he considered right, and scrupulously avoided everything he deemed wrong, I might relieve my mind from all fears of -21--his displeasure, which was, to say the least, satisfactory, if not particularly original.

Exactly as the clock struck one Dr. Mildman left the room (the morning's "study," as it was called, ending at that hour), leaving us our own masters till five, at which time we dined. Lest any kind reader should fancy we were starved, let me add, that at half-past one a substantial luncheon was provided, of which we might partake or not as we pleased.

As well as I remember we generally did graciously incline towards the demolition of the viands, unless "metal more attractive" awaited us elsewhere--but I am digressing.

CHAPTER III -- COLD-WATER CURE FOR THE HEARTACHE

"Oh! grief for words too deep, From all his loved ones parted,

He could not choose but weep, He was so lonely-hearted."

--Shortfellow.