II

Challis was ushered into Crashaw's study on his arrival, and found the rector in company with another man--introduced as Mr. Forman--a jolly-looking, high-complexioned man of sixty or so, with a great quant.i.ty of white hair on his head and face; he was wearing an old-fashioned morning-coat and grey trousers that were noticeably too short for him.

Crashaw lost no time in introducing the subject of "really peculiar urgency," but he rambled in his introduction.

"You have probably forgotten," he said, "that last spring I had to bring a most horrible charge against a child called Victor Stott, who has since been living, practically, as I may say, under your aegis, that is, he has, at least, spent a greater part of his day, er--playing in your library at Challis Court."

"Quite, quite; I remember perfectly," said Challis. "I made myself responsible for him up to a certain point. I gave him an occupation. It was intended, was it not, to divert his mind from speaking against religion to the yokels?"

"Quite a character, if I may say so," put in Mr. Forman cheerfully.

Crashaw was seated at his study table; the affair had something the effect of an examining magistrate taking the evidence of witnesses.

"Yes, yes," he said testily; "I did ask your help, Mr. Challis, and I did, in a way, receive some a.s.sistance from you. That is, the child has to some extent been isolated by spending so much of his time at your house."

"Has he broken out again?" asked Challis.

"If I understand you to mean has the child been speaking openly on any subject connected with religion, I must say 'No,'" said Crashaw. "But he never attends any Sunday school, or place of worship; he has received no instruction in--er--any sacred subject, though I understand he is able to read; and his time is spent among books which, pardon me, would not, I suppose, be likely to give a serious turn to his thoughts."

"Serious?" questioned Challis.

"Perhaps I should say 'religious,'" replied Crashaw. "To me the two words are synonymous."

Mr. Forman bowed his head slightly with an air of reverence, and nodded two or three times to express his perfect approval of the rector's sentiments.

"You think the child's mind is being perverted by his intercourse with the books in the library where he--he--'plays' was your word, I believe?"

"No, not altogether," replied Crashaw, drawing his eyebrows together.

"We can hardly suppose that he is able at so tender an age to read, much less to understand, those works of philosophy and science which would produce an evil effect on his mind. I am willing to admit, since I, too, have had some training in scientific reading, that writers on those subjects are not easily understood even by the mature intelligence."

"Then why, exactly, do you wish me to prohibit the child from coming to Challis Court?"

"Possibly you have not realised that the child is now five years old?"

said Crashaw with an air of conferring illumination.

"Indeed! Yes. An age of some discretion, no doubt," returned Challis.

"An age at which the State requires that he should receive the elements of education," continued Crashaw.

"Eh?" said Challis.

"Time he went to school," explained Mr. Forman. "I've been after him, you know. I'm the attendance officer for this district."

Challis for once committed a breach of good manners. The import of the thing suddenly appealed to his sense of humour: he began to chuckle and then he laughed out a great, hearty laugh, such as had not been stirred in him for twenty years.

"Oh! forgive me, forgive me," he said, when he had recovered his self-control. "But you don't know; you can't conceive the utter, childish absurdity of setting that child to recite the multiplication table with village infants of his own age. Oh! believe me, if you could only guess, you would laugh with me. It's so funny, so inimitably funny."

"I fail to see, Mr. Challis," said Crashaw, "that there is anything in any way absurd or--or unusual in the proposition."

"Five is the age fixed by the State," said Mr. Forman. He had relaxed into a broad smile in sympathy with Challis's laugh, but he had now relapsed into a fair imitation of Crashaw's intense seriousness.

"Oh! How can I explain?" said Challis. "Let me take an instance. You propose to teach him, among other things, the elements of arithmetic?"

"It is a part of the curriculum," replied Mr. Forman.

"I have only had one conversation with this child," went on Challis--and at the mention of that conversation his brows drew together and he became very grave again; "but in the course of that conversation this child had occasion to refer, by way of ill.u.s.tration, to some abstruse theorem of the differential calculus. He did it, you will understand, by way of making his meaning clear--though the ill.u.s.tration was utterly beyond me: that reference represented an act of intellectual condescension."

"G.o.d bless me, you don't say so?" said Mr. Forman.

"I cannot see," said Crashaw, "that this instance of yours, Mr. Challis, has any real bearing on the situation. If the child is a mathematical genius--there have been instances in history, such as Blaise Pascal--he would not, of course, receive elementary instruction in a subject with which he was already acquainted."

"You could not find any subject, believe me, Crashaw, in which he could be instructed by any teacher in a Council school."

"Forgive me, I don't agree with you," returned Crashaw. "He is sadly in need of some religious training."

"He would not get that at a Council school," said Challis, and Mr.

Forman shook his head sadly, as though he greatly deprecated the fact.

"He must learn to recognise authority," said Crashaw. "When he has been taught the necessity of submitting himself to all his governors, teachers, spiritual pastors, and masters: ordering himself lowly and reverently to all his betters; when, I say, he has learnt that lesson, he may be in a fit and proper condition to receive the teachings of the Holy Church."

Mr. Forman appeared to think he was attending divine service. If the rector had said "Let us pray," there can be no doubt that he would immediately have fallen on his knees.

Challis shook his head. "You can't understand, Crashaw," he said.

"I _do_ understand," said Crashaw, rising to his feet, "and I intend to see that the statute is not disobeyed in the case of this child, Victor Stott."

Challis shrugged his shoulders; Mr. Forman a.s.sumed an expression of stern determination.

"In any case, why drag me into it?" asked Challis.

Crashaw sat down again. The flush which had warmed his sallow skin subsided as his pa.s.sion died out. He had worked himself into a condition of righteous indignation, but the calm politeness of Challis rebuked him. If Crashaw prided himself on his devotion to the Church, he did not wish that att.i.tude to overshadow the pride he also took in the belief that he was Challis's social equal. Crashaw's father had been a lawyer, with a fair practice in Derby, but he had worked his way up to a partnership from the position of office-boy, and Percy Crashaw seldom forgot to be conscious that he was a gentleman by education and profession.

"I did not wish to _drag_ you into this business," he said quietly, putting his elbows on the writing-table in front of him, and rea.s.suming the judicial att.i.tude he had adopted earlier; "but I regard this child as, in some sense, your protege." Crashaw put the tips of his fingers together, and Mr. Forman watched him warily, waiting for his cue. If this was to be a case for prayer, Mr. Forman was ready, with a clean white handkerchief to kneel upon.

"In some sense, perhaps," returned Challis. "I haven't seen him for some months."

"Cannot you see the necessity of his attending school?" asked Crashaw, this time with an insinuating suavity; he believed that Challis was coming round.

"Oh!" Challis sighed with a note of expostulation. "Oh! the thing's grotesque, ridiculous."

"If that's so," put in Mr. Forman, who had been struck by a brilliant idea, "why not bring the child here, and let the Reverend Mr. Crashaw, or myself, put a few general questions to 'im?"

"Ye-es," hesitated Crashaw, "that might be done; but, of course, the decision does not rest with us."

"It rests with the Local Authority," mused Challis. He was running over three or four names of members of that body who were known to him.

"Certainly," said Crashaw, "the Local Education Authority alone has the right to prosecute, but----" He did not state his ant.i.thesis. They had come to the crux which Crashaw had wished to avoid. He had no influence with the committee of the L.E.A., and Challis's recommendation would have much weight. Crashaw intended that Victor Stott should attend school, but he had bungled his preliminaries; he had rested on his own authority, and forgotten that Challis had little respect for that influence. Conciliation was the only card to play now.