Howden stayed behind and helped to restore Lucius to consciousness.

"It's rot his tackling a chap like Pips," he said; "he's not in the same cla.s.s with him, and he's a demon when he's roused. I wouldn't care to take him on myself."

"He's a d--d cad," said Dizzy, in deep concern, "and I don't care if he hears me say so."

This was the only conversation that pa.s.sed between them till Lucius came round. Then they both helped him across to his own rooms in Whewell's Court, which they reached with some difficulty, as Lucius was dazed, and as weak as a kitten. Here the drama changed from tragedy to farce, for Mr. Binney was waiting for them, and as soon as he saw the state to which Lucius had been reduced he made such lamentations that neither Dizzy nor Howden could help laughing.

"Oh, chuck it, Binney," said Howden. "He'll be all right when he gets to bed."

"Go out and get a doctor, Mr. Binney," said Dizzy. "He's cut his head with some broken gla.s.s, and we can't stop the bleeding."

Mr. Binney dashed out instantly in a frenzy of terror, and Howden and Dizzy helped Lucius off with his clothes and into bed, where he lay silent with his face to the wall, while the blood slowly oozed out from under the bandages on his head and soaked into his pillow. The two stood looking at him irresolutely.

"I'm all right now," said Lucius faintly, "you needn't wait." They went into the sitting-room.

"Look here, sir," said Dizzy. "You must stop this business. It's gone quite far enough."

"My dear fellow," said Howden, "I didn't have anything to do with it.

I told Piper he ought to stop it when Binney wrote to object, because--well, because Binney ain't a bad old chap after all, and it's rough on him. But he wouldn't, and it isn't likely he'll stop now, after this."

"Well, if he won't stop it of his own accord, he'll have to be made to," said Dizzy.

"I don't know who's going to make him," said Howden.

"Oh, I think we can manage that," said Dizzy.

Mr. Binney came back with a doctor, who patched up Lucius's damaged head and told him to keep in bed until he should come again on the next day. Mr. Binney kept fussing about the room wringing his hands over the trouble that he had caused, and bewailing the smallness of his stature which debarred him from visiting summary justice upon Piper for the way he had treated his son. He was a ridiculous little object in his grief, and his behaviour was not soothing to the nerves of a sick man.

"Do get him away," whispered Lucius to Dizzy. "I want to go to sleep;"

and the latter, by the exercise of infinite tact, managed to remove Mr.

Binney from the premises. A short time afterwards, having seen that Lucius was comfortably settled, he removed himself, and then set to work to lay plans to circ.u.mvent Piper and cause the downfall of the _New Court Chronicle_. First of all he went round to the rooms of an influential member of the Third Trinity Boat Club, a man named Tait, who was rowing "Seven" in the University boat. He found him at home, and with him were Mirrilees, two other members of the University crew, and our old acquaintance Blathgowrie. To them he confided his story, which was received with interest and indignation, for Lucius was a popular member of the boating set, between which and the clique represented by Howden and Piper there happened to be a certain amount of bad blood at that particular time.

"It's all the fault of that confounded little bantam," said Blathgowrie, when Dizzy's tale had come to an end. "It's jolly good of Lucy to fight his battles for him after the way he's treated him. I'm hanged if I would."

"Those letters are the best thing in Piper's scurrilous rag," said Tait. "It's a pity to stop them, but if Lucy objects--and I expect it was more on his own account than his governor's--I think it's about time the paper was suppressed. I've a good mind to take Mr. Piper on myself."

"You can't do that," said Mirrilees quickly. "You might manage to lick him, but even that is doubtful, and he'd damage you so that you wouldn't be able to row for a day or two. Besides, if you licked him once a week from now till the end of the term he wouldn't stop the paper. He's not that sort."

"It's got to be stopped somehow," said Dizzy.

"Who publishes it?" asked Blathgowrie.

"Breedon," said Tait.

"Very well, then. We'll tell him to leave off, and if he don't we'll boycott him. We can get everybody to go somewhere else for their _menus_ and all those little jobs. He won't hesitate long between us and Mr. Piper, I think."

Blathgowrie busied himself to some purpose, and submitted to Messrs.

Breedon & Co. a considerable list of gentlemen who proposed to transfer their valuable custom if another number of the _New Court Chronicle_ appeared with Messrs. Breedon's name on the cover. The firm caved in at once and intimated to the editor that he must find another publisher. Piper made himself very objectionable, but Messrs. Breedon & Co. were firm, and absolutely refused to bring out another number for him. Piper had now got his back up and swore to go on publishing his paper if he brought out every number at a loss. He found a more obscure stationer than Messrs. Breedon & Co. who was willing to oblige him, and went on with his editorial functions, throwing far more vigour and malice into the next instalment of the "Binney Correspondence" than he had done before.

Poor Lucius lay alone that afternoon in his comfortless college bedroom. He was very miserable. He felt weak and ill, and his thoughts took a melancholy turn. He had done no good by his single combat with the redoubtable Piper; in fact, things would now probably be worse than before. He had no energy to feel angry with his father, but he saw the whole University pointing fingers of scorn at him, an unpleasantness which might be expected to continue and increase as long as he remained at Cambridge. The hope which he had entertained up to a week ago of a place in the University boat no longer buoyed him up against adversity. In his present state of depression he saw himself missing everything that made Cambridge interesting to him, and heartily wished himself away from the place altogether. His thoughts, nowadays, seldom kept long away from the girl whom he had seen for the first time last term, but there was not much comfort to be got out of thinking about her. He had not been so fortunate this term as to have hit upon a lecture which she attended, and no longer had the satisfaction of sitting in the same room with her for an hour, twice a week. He had discovered that she went to a lecture at St. John's College, and used to hang about outside the gates on the chance of seeing her as she went to and fro. But there are two ways between Newnham and St. John's, one along Trinity Street and the King's Parade, the other past the backs of the colleges, and after a time the uncomfortable conviction took hold of Lucius that his divinity was taking a malicious delight in dodging him. If he waited outside the big gate of St. John's, she went home by the backs, and if he lay in wait on the Bridge of Sighs, she would go through the town. And upon the rare occasions when he did meet her face to face there was no sign that she was so much as aware of his existence. Lying on his bed, with heavy heart and throbbing head, as the light of the short winter afternoon slowly died, poor Lucius took the gloomiest view of his chances of ever becoming better acquainted with her.

Just as he had reached the lowest possible depths of depression, Mirrilees and Tait came in to see him, and to sympathise. They told him of Blathgowrie's strategy. They had not discovered yet that Piper had circ.u.mvented it, and arranged to produce his paper from another address.

"We're going to hoot Piper in hall to-night," said Tait, "and see if we can't bring on a scrimmage afterwards. If we do, we'll put him in the fountain. I expect he'll oblige us. He's a pugnacious beggar."

When they had gone, he received an unexpected visit from his cousin, John Jermyn, who was much surprised to find him in bed, and hardly knew how to express himself with reference to current events. In a small way, in his own college, John Jermyn had suffered some annoyance from his relationship to Mr. Binney, and was not particularly proud of it.

His shyness, however, prevented him from alluding to his cousin's reputation. If he had done so, he might have discovered that Lucius, in spite of his loyalty, was not very well pleased with his father at that particular time.

"My mother is coming up next week for a few days," said Jermyn, "and I came to ask you if you would lunch with us on Tuesday. There will only be she and my sister from Newnham. You haven't met her yet."

"But surely, your sister is at Girton, isn't she?" said Lucius.

"No, Newnham," said Jermyn.

Lucius's heart suddenly lightened. Any connection with Newnham was welcome to him, and opened up possibilities.

"Why, I went out to Girton to call on her," said Lucius; "they said she was out."

"Rather lucky," said his cousin. "That's a Miss German with a G.

Well, then, you'll come on Tuesday, if you're well enough, at half-past one."

"Yes, I'll come," said Lucius. "Thanks very much."

When his cousin had left him he found that his spirits had lightened considerably. The visit of his friends had cheered him, for he had thought that if he was to fight his father's battles for him he would have to fight them alone, and it was pleasant to find that there were others on his side. And the Newnham girl seemed to be nearer to him, somehow, now he knew that she and his cousin were at the same college.

He began to build castles in the air. He knew that his cousin was in her first year, and he thought that if his divinity had been in Cambridge before last term, he must have noticed her; so the two were of the same year, and probably friends. He might get to know her through his cousin--though it was difficult to see how an introduction could be brought about. At any rate he would be able to find out her name, and that was something. He was rather sorry that he had refused the invitation to the Norfolk Rectory at Christmas. He would make up for it by cultivating his cousins now. He comforted himself with rosy visions, and by-and-bye fell asleep. Mr. Binney came in after his afternoon's work on the river was over, and went out again. Dizzy crept in, looked at him, and crept away again on tiptoe. But still Lucius slept on, and when he woke again about nine o'clock he was very much better.

In the meantime the ill-feeling between the boating men and the football players, fanned by Piper's treatment of Lucius, had burnt up to a blaze. When Piper went into hall that night, a little late, there was a chorus of groans and hisses as he pa.s.sed the table where Mirrilees and Tait sat. He stopped for an instant, and an ugly look came over his face. The groans grew louder, and the dons turned round and looked down the hall from their seats at the high tables. Then Piper went to his place, the noise ceased and the dons, rea.s.sured, turned to their dinner. But there were ominous whisperings and glances at the table where Piper sat, and like signs at the table of the boating men nearer the door. The latter finished their dinner early and went out in a body. When they had got outside the door they waited by the college screens. Men who belonged to neither faction dropping out of hall one by one, looked with surprise at such an unexpected gathering, and pa.s.sed on. Some of them waited outside to see what would happen. Before very long Piper came out, immediately followed by Howden and the rest. He looked black when he saw the waiting crowd, and then there was a curious pause. Bodily violence between fellow-undergraduates is a rare thing unless arising spontaneously from chance collisions of opposing factions. In this case there was plenty of bad feeling, but no hot blood at present, and although both sides were eager for a quarrel, n.o.body quite knew how to begin it. After a moment's pause Piper went on towards the steps leading down to Neville's Court. He looked a very ugly customer. Although Lucius had not succeeded in doing him a fraction of the damage which he himself had received, Piper had not got off quite unmarked. He had a black eye and a swollen cheek bone. His temper was up, too, and he was probably nearer the state of mind when a fight is a relief than any one there.

"Ugly bruiser!" remarked Tait as he pa.s.sed.

Piper faced him instantly. "What's that, sir!" he asked angrily.

"I said you were an ugly bruiser, sir."

Piper aimed a savage blow at him before the words were well out of his mouth. Tait had just time to parry it. There was no need for any further introduction. Exactly where they were, with startled waiters going to and fro from the kitchens to the hall, and the intermittent stream of undergraduates pa.s.sing through, the two parties fell upon one another, and the noise of the combat rose above the clatter of plates and the m.u.f.fled swinging of the heavy doors, and reached the dons on the das at the other end of the hall. "Put him in the fountain,"

shouted Mirrilees, and the struggling ma.s.s surged slowly out of the doorway and down the shallow flight of steps into the Great Court.

Blood was up now and there was no lack of sincerity in the blows that were given and taken. Little groups of disinterested spectators looked on at the strange spectacle of men of the same college, most of them well known throughout the University for their prowess in different branches of sport, fighting fiercely, and gradually drawing nearer to the great stone fountain which rears its stately ma.s.s from one of the gra.s.s plots. The boating men had a slight advantage in numbers, but the footballers were, with some few exceptions, a heavier lot, and progress was slow. Piper fought savagely and disabled one or two of the men who were dragging him along, while his friends were mostly engaged in a series of single combats round him. There is no knowing how the battle would have ended. In spite of their slightly superior force it is doubtful whether Mirrilees's and Tait's party could have succeeded in inflicting the punishment on Piper which they intended.

But before they reached the fountain a little party of dons who had been apprised of what was going on came running down the steps of the hall towards the struggling and swaying ma.s.s. They were led by the Senior Dean. "Stop this, gentlemen, stop this," he shouted, as he reached them. A few of them stopped irresolutely. The rest paid no attention to the order. It is doubtful if they heard it. The Senior Dean, who was a man of resolution, threw himself among them, followed by one or two of his companions. At first there was no result, except that dons and undergraduates were mixed up together in one general _melee_. But gradually the voice and energetic action of authority began to tell. First one left off fighting and then another, until Piper and the men who had got hold of him were the only ones still left. Deprived of the a.s.sistance of his backers, Piper was carried with a little run right up to the steps of the fountain, but there the Dean and a few stalwart Fellows who were helping him managed to stop them by sheer force, and the fight ceased, leaving a dishevelled panting crowd of combatants facing one another, with the stern figure of judicial vengeance master of the field. Names were taken, orders given, and the crowd slowly dispersed. The boating men held the conviction that if they had been left alone they would have done what they meant to do and avenged the defeat Piper had administered to Lucius. At any rate they had given him a lesson which he wouldn't forget in a hurry. The football men made a great deal of the fact that they had been overpowered by superior numbers. _They_ were also greatly cheered by the conviction that they had given their opponents something that they wouldn't forget in a hurry.

The sequel to the fracas was rather curious. It resulted in an entire healing up of the feud that had arisen, no one quite knew how, for it dated from before the issue of the _New Court Chronicle_. These quarrels between two sets of men are rare in the University, but they sometimes arise and continue for a year or so and then die away. This one would have disappeared slowly in due course, because no two sets of men can be said to be absolutely clear and distinct one from another, but are merged at some points by friendships between their respective members. But, the matter having been brought to a head by the quarrel between Lucius and Piper, and the bad blood let off, the ill-feeling disappeared as if by magic, and men who had fought with one another on that night by the fountain might have been seen in one another's rooms later on in the term the best of friends.

There was one exception to the general amicability. Piper, who was an evil-tempered fellow, emerged from the tussle in a black rage, and continued in it for much longer than a normally const.i.tuted man would have found such a state of mind possible.

The Senior Dean being wise in his generation, and having a fairly shrewd idea as to how the unseemly fracas had arisen, and what was likely to be its result, dealt lightly with the offenders. There were a good many official interviews and a few "gates," and then the matter was allowed to drop. None of the combatants actually told him in so many words what had been the immediate origin of the fray, but Mr.

Binney having discovered the day after that Piper was more determined than ever to continue the publication of his paper, had paid an early visit to the Dean and asked him to suppress it officially. He had brought the term's numbers already issued with him, and the Dean gravely perused the "Binney Correspondence" then and there, while the object of it sat uneasily before him watching his face.

"I don't defend this, Mr. Binney," said the Dean, laying down the papers on his table when he had finished them. "A great deal of it is very offensive. But, you know, you've got yourself to thank for most of it.

"I know--I know," said poor little Mr. Binney, whose c.o.c.k-sureness in his treatment of Deans and Tutors had been considerably reduced of late. "A good deal of it might fairly have been said of me last term.