"The Doctor, I suppose," said Tom. " I never thought of that."

"Of course you didn't," said the master, "or else, f.a.g as you were, you would have shouted with the whole school against putting down old customs. And that's the way that all the Doctor's reforms have been carried out when he has been left to himself,--quietly and naturally, putting a good thing in the place of a bad, and letting the bad die out; no wavering and no hurry,--the best thing that could be done for the time-being, and patience for the rest."

"Just Tom's own way," chimed in Arthur, nudging Tom with his elbow, "driving a nail where it will go"; to which allusions Tom answered by a sly kick.

"Exactly so," said the master, innocent of the allusion and by-play.

JACK RAGGLES'S INNINGS.

Meantime Jack Raggles, with his sleeves tucked up above his great brown elbows, scorning pads and gloves, has presented himself at the wicket; and, having run one for a forward drive off Johnson's, is about to receive his first ball. There are only twenty-four runs to make, and four wickets to go down, a winning match if they play decently steady. The ball is a very swift one, and rises fast, catching Jack on the outside of the thigh, and bounding away, as if from india-rubber, while they run two for a leg-bye[37] amidst great applause and shouts from Jack's many admirers. The next ball is a beautifully pitched ball for the outer stump, which the reckless and unfeeling Jack catches hold of, and hits right round to leg for five, while the applause is deafening; only seventeen runs to get with four wickets,--the game is all but ours!

[37] #Leg-bye#: the ball glances from the batsman's leg.

It is over now, and Jack walks swaggering about his wicket, with his bat over his shoulder, while Mr. Aislabie holds a short parley with his men. Then the cover-point hitter, that cunning man, goes on to bowl slow twisters. Jack waves his hand triumphantly toward the tent, as much as to say: "See if I don't finish it all off now in three hits!"

Alas, my son Jack! the enemy is too old for thee. The first ball of the over, Jack steps out and meets, swiping[38] with all his force. If he had only allowed for the twist! but he hasn't, and so the ball goes spinning up straight in the air as if it would never come down again.

Away runs Jack, shouting and trusting to the chapter of accidents, but the bowler runs steadily under it, judging every spin, and calling out: "I have it," catches it, and playfully pitches it on to the back of the stalwart Jack, who is departing with a rueful countenance.

[38] #Swiping#: not a scientific hit.

"I knew how it would be," says Tom, rising. "Come along; the game's getting very serious."

So they leave the island and go to the tent, and after deep consultation Arthur is sent in, and goes off to the wicket with a last exhortation from Tom to play steady and keep his bat straight. To the suggestions that Winter is the best bat left Tom only replies: "Arthur is the steadiest, and Johnson will make the runs if the wicket is only kept up."

"I am surprised to see Arthur in the eleven," said the master, as they stood together in front of the dense crowd, which was now closing in round the ground.

"Well, I'm not quite sure that he ought to be in for his play,"[39]

said Tom, "but I couldn't help putting him in. It will do him so much good, and you can't think what I owe him."

[39] #His play#: his skill.

THE FINISH.

The master smiled. The clock strikes eight, and the whole field becomes fevered with excitement. Arthur, after two narrow escapes, scores one; and Johnson gets the ball. The bowling and fielding are superb, and Johnson's batting worthy the occasion. He makes here a two and there a one, managing to keep the ball to himself, and Arthur backs up and runs perfectly; only eleven runs to make now, and the crowd scarcely breathe. At last Arthur gets the ball again, and actually drives it forward for two, and feels prouder than when he got the three best prizes, at hearing Tom's shout of joy, "Well played, well played, young un!"

But the next ball is too much for a young hand, and his bails fly different ways. Nine runs to make, and two wickets to go down--it is too much for human nerves.

Before Winter can get in,[40] the omnibus which is to take the Lord's men to the train pulls up at the side of the close, and Mr. Aislabie and Tom consult, and give out that the stumps will be drawn after the next over. And so ends the great match. Winter and Johnson carry out their bats, and, it being a one day's match, the Lord's men are declared the winners, they having scored the most in the first innings.

[40] #Winter can get in#: before Winter can get a chance to play.

But such a defeat is a victory; so think Tom and all the School eleven, as they accompany their conquerors to the omnibus, and send them off with three ringing cheers, after Mr. Aislabie had shaken hands all round, saying to Tom, "I must compliment you, sir, on your eleven, and I hope we shall have you for a member if you come up to town."[41]

[41] #Town#: London.

As Tom and the rest of the eleven were turning back into the close, and everybody was beginning to cry out for another country dance, encouraged by the success of the night before, the young master, who was just leaving the close, stopped him, and asked him to come up to tea at half-past eight, adding, "I won't keep you more than half an hour, and ask Arthur to come up, too."

"I'll come up with you directly, if you'll let me," said Tom, "for I feel rather melancholy, and not quite up to the country dance and supper with the rest."

"Do, by all means," said the master; "I'll wait for you."

So Tom went off to get his boots and things from the tent, to tell Arthur of the invitation, and to speak to his second in command about stopping the dancing and shutting up the close as soon as it grew dusk. Arthur promised to follow as soon as he had had a dance. So Tom handed his things over to the man in charge of the tent, and walked quietly away to the gate where the master was waiting, and the two took their way together up the Hillmorton road.

SHUT OUT.

Of course they found the master's house locked up, and all the servants away in the close, about this time, no doubt, footing it away on the gra.s.s with extreme delight to themselves, and in utter oblivion of the unfortunate bachelor, their master, whose one enjoyment in the shape of meals was his "dish of tea" (as our grandmothers called it) in the evening; and the phrase was apt in his case, for he always poured his out into the saucer before drinking. Great was the good man's horror at finding himself shut out of his own house. Had he been alone he would have treated it as a matter of course, and would have strolled contentedly up and down his gravel-walk until some one came home; but he was hurt at the stain on his character of host, especially as the guest was a pupil. However, the guest seemed to think it a great joke, and presently, as they poked about round the house, mounted a wall, from which he could reach a pa.s.sage window; the window, as it turned out, was not bolted, so in another minute Tom was in the house and down at the front door, which he opened from inside.

The master chuckled grimly at this burglarious entry, and insisted on leaving the hall-door and two of the front windows open, to frighten the truants on their return; and then the two set about foraging for tea, in which operation the master was much at fault, having the faintest possible idea of where to find anything, and being moreover wondrously short-sighted; but Tom, by a sort of instinct, knew the right cupboards in the kitchen and pantry, and soon managed to place on the snuggery[42] table better materials for a meal than had appeared there probably during the reign of his tutor, who was then and there initiated, amongst other things, into the excellence of that mysterious condiment, a dripping cake. The cake was newly baked, and all rich and flaky; Tom had found it reposing in the cook's private cupboard, awaiting her return; and, as a warning to her, they finished it to the last crumb. The kettle sang away merrily on the hob[43] of the snuggery, for, notwithstanding the time of year, they lighted a fire, throwing both the windows wide open at the same time; the heaps of books and papers were pushed away to the other end of the table, and the great solitary engravings of King's College Chapel[44] over the mantle-piece looked less stiff than usual, as they settled themselves down in the twilight to the serious drinking of tea.

[42] #Snuggery#: a small, cosy room.

[43] #Hob#: that part of a grate on which things are placed to be kept hot.

[44] #King's College Chapel#: a chapel of King's College, Cambridge. It is celebrated for its architectural beauty.

HARRY EAST.

After some talk on the match, and other indifferent subjects, the conversation came naturally back to Tom's approaching departure, over which he began again to moan.

"Well, we shall miss you quite as much as you will miss us," said the master. "You are the Nestor[45] of the School now, are you not?"

[45] #Nestor#: oldest member of the School.

"Yes, ever since East left," answered Tom.

"By the bye, have you heard from him?"

"Yes; I had a letter in February, just before he started for India to join his regiment."

"He will make a capital officer."

"Ay, won't he?" said Tom, brightening; "no fellow could handle boys better, and I suppose soldiers are very like boys. And he'll never tell them to go where he won't go himself. No mistake about that,--a braver fellow never walked."

"His year in the sixth will have taught him a good deal that will be useful to him now."

"So it will," said Tom, staring into the fire. "Poor dear Harry,"

he went on, "how well I remember the day we were put out of the twenty.[46] How he rose to the situation, and burnt his cigar-cases, and gave away his pistols, and pondered on the const.i.tutional authority[47] of the sixth and his new duties to the Doctor, and the fifth form, and the f.a.gs. Ay, and no fellow ever acted up to them better, though he was always a people's man,--for the f.a.gs, and against const.i.tuted authorities.[48] He couldn't help that, you know.

I'm sure the Doctor must have liked him?" said Tom, looking up inquiringly.

[46] #The twenty#: the fifth form.

[47] #Const.i.tutional authority#: here, the authority established by school customs.

[48] #Const.i.tuted authorities#: here, the upper-cla.s.s boys.