The schoolmaster was highly amused; but Digby was afraid that John had gone too far.
"It"s all right, John," he exclaimed, taking his hand affectionately.
"Good by, good by. My love to papa and mamma, and Kate and Gusty, and all; and don"t forget to look after Sweetlips, and tell Kate to write to me about him; but she"ll do that, I"m sure. You must go, John, I know you must." Digby felt more inclined to cry than he had done before.
John was the last link which united him with all the home a.s.sociations he was conjuring up. John warmly returned Digby"s grasp. He went to the door, and opened it. He turned round once more with his hand on the lock.
"You has him in charge, sir," he said, looking sternly at Mr Sanford.
"Oh, take care of him, sir; he"s very precious down at Bloxholme there."
John, afraid of trusting himself, bolted out of the door.
Digby overheard some words between John and Susan outside; they ended in a laugh, just before the fly drove off, so he had no doubt they had become good friends; and he afterwards had reason to believe that John had bestowed half a sovereign on her from his own pocket, to secure her good services for the young master.
"Sit down, young gentleman," said Mr Sanford, in his usual languid tone, when John had taken his departure. "I am glad to have you as a pupil, for I find that you are a nephew of my old friend, Nugent, for whom I have a great regard. I dare say he has done you justice. What books have you read?--Latin and Greek, I mean?"
Digby told him; he had very little Greek to boast of, however.
"I thought that you were more forward," observed Mr Sanford. "You will be placed under the third master, Mr Tugman, in his upper cla.s.s, I hope. I must leave him to settle that. I will send for him, and he will take you round the school before tea-time, and introduce you to some of the boys. He may not be quite ready yet, so I will let Mrs Pike, the housekeeper, show you your dormitory, and have your things put away."
Mr Sanford was taking unusual trouble about Digby. He rang the bell, and the usher and housekeeper were sent for. Mrs Pike appeared first; Old Jack, the boys called her. She had a stern, relentless expression of countenance, Digby thought. Her dress was black, with a plain white cap, and a large serviceable ap.r.o.n. There was business in her.
"Come along, young gentleman," she said, taking Digby by the arm, when she had received the master"s directions. "It will be time for tea soon, and I shall have to go and look after it."
She first showed Digby a large room fitted all round with lockers, or drawers, and numbers on each. Into this his things had been wheeled on a truck.
"Here is your drawer, Master Heathcote," she observed. "You will remember the number--sixty-five. We had a hundred and thirty not long ago. Here you will keep your clothes; your play-box you can have with you in the play-room to-morrow; it can stay here till then. Now, come along to your dormitory. Susan will unpack your trunk; and if there is anything in it you want, you can have it when you come back."
All this sounded very well. There were a dozen rooms on the first and second floors appropriated as bedrooms; some had eight or ten beds in them, others only three or four. Digby was shown a room looking out at the back of the house, with eight beds, in one of which Mrs Pike told him he was to sleep. There were wash-hand basins and tubs, and a drawer for each boy to hold his dressing things. All looked very neat and well-arranged. Mrs Pike prided herself on having her department in good order. She looked as if she could have said, "Better washed and fed than taught at this establishment."
Digby returned well satisfied to the study, where Mr Sanford was still reading his book. He looked up, and was putting a question, in a kind tone of voice, to Digby, when the door opened. Digby looked up. A broad-shouldered, pock-marked man, with sandy hair and small grey eyes, entered. His costume, which consisted of a green coat, with a reddish handkerchief, a many-coloured waistcoat, and large plaid trousers, did not improve his appearance. He threw himself into a chair, if not with grace, at all events with ease, and observed, in an off-hand way, that it was a chilly day--a fact about which Mr Sanford did not seem inclined to dispute. He looked at Digby with no pleasant expression, and Digby looked at him, and hoped that he was not the usher under whom he was to be placed.
All doubt, however, about the matter was quickly removed by Mr Sanford saying--"I have sent for you, Mr Tugman, to beg that you will take charge of this new boy, Digby Heathcote. Examine him to-morrow, and place him as you judge best. I hope that he will be in the highest of your cla.s.ses, as he has been lately under a clever man, an old college friend of mine, his uncle, for whom I have a great regard."
The usher was listening, with a look of impatience, to all this.
"Oh, I know; he"s the son of Squire Heathcote, of Bloxholme," he observed, with a laugh, which Digby understood, for he spoke exactly with the expression of the boys who had heard him announced.
"I will take him with me, and introduce the young gentleman to his future playmates. I hope that he may get on well with them."
"Do, Mr Tugman, do," said Mr Sanford, languidly. "I wish that my health would allow me to afford greater support to my a.s.sistants, efficient as I am bound to say that they all are."
Mr Tugman did not seem to listen to the compliment, but, with a slight good evening, taking Digby by the shoulder, walked him off to the schoolroom.
Digby felt somewhat like a fly in the grasp of a spider, for there was very little of the _suaviter in modo_, however much there might have been of the _fort.i.ter in re_, in Mr Tugman"s proceedings. They pa.s.sed a large gla.s.s door, guarded on both sides by wire-work.
"These are your future companions," he said, opening it, and pointing to a wide-extending gravel s.p.a.ce at the back of the house, which Digby guessed was the playground. Though it was growing dark, the boys were still there; but all he could see was a confused ma.s.s of fellows rushing about, hallooing, and shouting: some with hoops, against which their sticks went clattering away incessantly; others driving, with whips cracking and horns tootooing; some were running races; others playing leap-frog, or high c.o.c.k-o"-lorum; indeed, nearly every game which could make the blood circulate on a cold winter"s evening, had its advocates.
From the darkness, and from the state of constant movement in which they all were, there appeared to be double the number of boys Mrs Pike had mentioned.
"Well, what do you think of them?" asked Mr Tugman.
Digby said, "That he could form no opinion from the slight view he had of them."
"Not badly answered," observed Mr Tugman. "Now I will show you the schoolroom before they come in, and select a desk, so that you may make yourself at home at once."
Going down a few steps, Digby found himself in a large and lofty room, or hall, lighted by lamps from the ceiling, with rows of desks across it, and two large fire-places at the sides towards each end. At one end was a high desk, and there were five or six smaller desks, intended for the masters, down the hall, flanking the rows, as the sergeants stand in a regiment, drawn up on parade. The hall ran at right angles to the back of the house, by the side of the playground, and had evidently been built for a schoolroom.
Mr Tugman took Digby to the further end, where his own desk was, and lifting up several in one of the last rows, he came to one which was entirely empty.
"Seventy is the number, is it not?" he asked, going to his own desk.
"Now, take this key, lock up whatever you like. I dare say you have some good things in your play-box, or valuables of some sort; put them there, and make yourself at home."
Scarcely had these arrangements been concluded, when a bell rang, and the boys came trooping into the schoolroom. He was fairly caught, like a mouse in a trap. At first he was not perceived; but it was soon buzzed about, that the new boy was there, and he was quickly saluted by--
"How do you do, Master Digby Heathcote, son of Squire Heathcote, of Bloxholme Hall?"
"Pretty well, I thank you, young gentlemen," answered Digby, determined not to be outdone, and resolved to put a bold face on the matter. "I shall be happy to make the acquaintance of any of those who will favour me with their cards, and an account of their own family, parentage, and connexions."
"He is a pert little chap," observed one. "Plenty of impudence in him,"
said another. "A plucky little c.o.c.k, though, I think," remarked a fourth. Opinions among the bigger fellows varied considerably as to his character, and how he was to be treated.
Seldom is there a school without a bully, and Grangewood was no exception to the rule. The chief bully was a big, hulking fellow, called Scarborough. He remarked, "That there was a great deal to be taken out of the little c.o.c.k, and that he purposed having the satisfaction of taking it."
"I"m in the habit of giving small change, remember that," said Digby, who had overheard the remark--as it had been intended he should.
Scarborough turned white with rage on this being said; and would then and there have inflicted condign punishment on the daring upstart, had not the bell rang, and the boys been called to order by Mr Yates, the head usher, who, entering Mr Sanford"s desk, a.s.sumed command in the evening. He only deferred doing so, however, till another opportunity.
The little fellows, and those about Digby"s own age, listened with eager and surprised ears to what he said; and at once looked upon him as one likely to prove their champion. In a very short time he had made a number both of friends and foes; but, curiously enough, he knew none of them by sight, as he could only distinguish the countenances of the few who sat immediately about him. They being mostly about his age, and having suffered from the tyranny of Scarborough, were inclined to side with him.
As, of course, he had nothing to do, he was able to sit quiet, and observe what was going forward. Each of the masters called up a cla.s.s to say lessons, while the rest of the boys had to prepare them for the following day. Books were got out, and a murmur of voices was heard through the school. A stranger coming in might have fancied that everybody was very studiously employed; but although all had piles of books before them, on a closer inspection he would have seen, as Digby did, that very few were really learning their lessons; some were drawing, others playing games, draughts, or spillikins, or dominoes, and some even had cards; many were cutting out things in card-board or wood, making models of carriages, and houses, and boats. It had become the practice of the school at that time of the evening, especially as they would have another half hour in the morning to look over the lessons they were then supposed to be learning. Digby was surprised, and thought that he had come to a very slack sort of school. He was not particularly shocked, for he could not fancy that what everybody was doing was so very wrong.
The cla.s.ses had just been dismissed, when another bell rang, and everybody hurried away out of the schoolroom. Digby, not knowing what was to take place, sat still.
"Come with me," said a boy, who looked rather smaller than himself. "I am delighted with the way you answered that big bully, Scarborough.
Keep up to it; don"t give in, and I will stick by you. We are now going into tea. I will find a place for you near myself, and tell you all about the fellows."
Digby was very glad to fall in at once with a friend; and he at once accepted the little boy"s offer.
"My name is Paul Newland," said his new companion, as they followed the rest into the tea-room. "I am rather older than I look, for I am not very big; but I intend to grow some day. You will be in my cla.s.s, I suspect. I"m at the top of it, and expect to get into the sixth soon; that is, under Mr Moore, who is a very quiet sort of fellow. You must try and work up along with me. There is nothing like working, I find.
I came in at the lowest, and got up three cla.s.ses in one half year. But this is the tea-room. Come along; don"t mind what fellows say."
This was not an unnecessary caution, for Digby found himself saluted as he went along by the boys turning sharply round and saying--
"How do you do, Master Digby Heathcote, son and heir of Squire Heathcote, of Bloxholme Hall? Welcome to Grangewood House, most n.o.ble young Squire."
It need not be said how Digby felt, but he fortunately kept his temper; nor did he lose his appet.i.te in consequence of these sarcastic greetings.
"I wish that John Pratt had not announced me in that way. Of course it would make a capital joke for the fellows," he said to himself, as he took his seat at the table.
The boys near nodded to him, holding up their mugs of tea with mock gravity.