"Your health, Master Digby Heathcote, son and heir of Squire Heathcote, of Bloxholme Hall," was repeated over and over again, in various tones.
Digby was determined not to be put out, whatever was said or done. He lifted his mug to his lips--it was filled with a liquid he thought most execrable--some one had evidently put salt in it; but he pretended not to have discovered the bad taste.
"Young gentlemen," he said, holding up his mug, and mimicking the tones of those who had spoken to him, "I beg to return you my thanks for the honour you have done me. When I know your names and places of abode, as well as you appear to know mine, I can address you more personally. As neither tea nor salt-water are the proper things to drink to the health of one"s friends, I will make a libation with the contents of my mug into the slop-basin, which you will receive as a mark of the honour I wish to do you."
Digby was sorely puzzled to pump up all these words. He had never made so long a speech in his life before; but the importance of the object inspired him; and a large slop-basin standing before him to receive the dregs of the mugs, put the idea into his head. He had been afraid at first that he should have been obliged to drink the salted tea.
His young friend, Paul Newland, inquired why the boys addressed him as they had been doing; and he then explained that it was owing to John Pratt"s desire to give him importance; instead of which, as is often the case, a contrary effect had been produced.
"I need not tell you not to mind, for I see you don"t," observed Paul.
"Everybody has to go through something of the sort when they first come, and some remain b.u.t.ts all the time they stay. That sort of thing matters very little if a fellow keeps his temper, and pretends not to notice it. They soon grow tired of a joke when it produces no effect.
They bothered me a great deal when I first came, and called me Paul Pry, and Paul the Preacher, and Little Bank Note, and Pretty Poll, and Polly, and all sorts of names, and they played all sorts of tricks; but I pretended not to mind, though I was really very much annoyed; and, at last, they gave it up, and it is only occasionally that I now get addressed in that way."
Digby thanked Newland for his good advice, and promised to follow it as far as his temper would allow.
"Oh, that is the very thing; you must keep in your temper," answered Newland. "I don"t mean to say that you may harbour revenge, or that you intend to pay them off another day. Far from that; that would be horrid, you know, not like a Christian or an honest Englishman; but that you may disarm them, make them ashamed of themselves, or tired of their stale tricks or jokes."
Paul went on talking in a quiet, low tone, while Digby was munching a thick slice of bread-and-b.u.t.ter. He sent up his cup for some more tea by one of the attendant maid-servants; but was told by Mrs Pike, who had seen him throw the first away, that he could have no more.
"But some salt had got into the mug, marm; and salt with tea is not pleasant, I a.s.sure you," exclaimed Digby, feeling very indignant, notwithstanding Newland"s exhortations and his own resolutions.
"We only use sugar at Grangewood House, young gentleman," answered Mrs Pike, looking angrily at the bold a.s.sertion of the new boy. "Those who throw their tea away can have no more. That is the rule here; is it not, Mr Tugman?"
The third master, thus appealed to, replied, with what he intended to be a bland smile, though it had very much the look of a grin--
"Certainly, marm, certainly. Master Digby Heathcote, of Bloxholme, has been brought up with rather extravagant notions, and has been accustomed to take salt as well as sugar in his tea."
This sally produced a grin from the surrounding boys who heard it; for the big fellows considered him a great wit, and a jolly c.o.c.k, a character he had striven to obtain from some, that he might the more easily manage, or rather bully, the rest.
"Never mind," whispered Paul; "wait a moment till no one is looking, and take mine. I"ll get some more presently, if I want it. Mrs Pike likes me, as I never bother her. She"ll like you some day, if you are quiet and well-behaved. She"s not ill-natured at bottom, but her temper gets put out very often. She almost manages the school now, since Mr Sanford has been ill."
Digby accepted the offer; and Newland soon afterwards got a fresh and ample supply for himself. Perhaps Mrs Pike winked at the arrangement, after she had duly a.s.serted her authority.
Digby had been accustomed to very different tea arrangements, and did not admire those he now saw. The tea was made in great urns, and there were huge jugs of milk, or, as the boys declared, of milk-and-water, and basins of brown sugar. The mixture was served out in blue and white mugs, which did duty as beer mugs at dinner; while trays, with slices of bread-and-b.u.t.ter, were continually being handed round. Of the latter, the boys might have as much as they wanted; and their tastes were so far consulted, that they might have milk-and-water without tea and sugar, if they wished for it. They sat at table chattering away, or playing tricks with each other, or reading, if they liked, provided the books were not on the table, till the bell again rang, and they hurried back into the schoolroom.
Other cla.s.ses were now called up, and more lessons were supposed to be learned; but nothing was very strictly attended to at that time in the evening. In summer, they would have been out in the playground. The boys in those cla.s.ses which had said their lessons were allowed to amuse themselves as they liked at their desks, either in reading, or writing, or making some of the nine hundred and ninety-nine curious articles which boys are wont to manufacture.
As Digby had nothing to do, Newland lent him an interesting book--"The Swiss Family of Robinson"--which he had never seen. He was soon absorbed in it, and not at all inclined to be interrupted. The shipwreck he had suffered enabled him to realise that described in the book. At length, however, he heard somebody speak to him. What was said he did not understand. He turned round, thinking it was Newland; but, instead of him, he saw a much older, taller boy, with a fair complexion, and greyish eyes. At the first glance, he did not like the expression of his countenance; and he was not over-pleased at being interrupted.
"What do you think of our school?" said the boy. "Some of the fellows have been trying to make fun of you, but you do not mind that. I hate that sort of thing myself. We have got some tremendous bullies here.
I"ll point them out to you, and show you how to avoid them. Where do you live?"
Digby told him.
"I live in Berkshire, some miles away from here, though. My name is John Spiller. I manage to get on very well with the fellows, and I"ll put you up to a thing or two which will be of great a.s.sistance to you.
Now, about your play-box; you haven"t unpacked it yet, I suppose?"
"No," said Digby; "not yet."
"All right. Don"t till I can help you, or you"ll have everything carried off by the fellows," observed Spiller. "While you are looking to see who has got hold of a knife, or a saw, or a cake, or a boat, others will be carrying off a pot of jam, or a Dutch cheese, or some gingerbread, or a pot of anchovies, or a parcel of herrings, or--"
"Oh, there"s no fear of that. I have not got half the things you speak of," said Digby, rather inclined to laugh at the collection of valuables his box was supposed to contain.
"What have you got, then?" asked Spiller, point blank.
Digby, who had not suspected his new acquaintance"s object in introducing the subject, was going to tell him, when Paul Newland came back to his desk.
Spiller did not see him. He started, and seemed very much annoyed when Paul put his hand on his shoulder, and said, quietly--
"Well, what do you find that he has got?"
Spiller looked big enough to keep in awe a dozen such little fellows as Paul Newland, but he seemed in no way inclined to pick a quarrel with him.
"Nothing that I know of," he answered. "We have been merely talking about things in general; have we not, Heathcote? It will soon be bed-time, or I should like to have heard more about your part of the country. I"ll get you to tell me to-morrow. Good-night, Heathcote."
Saying this, he moved away.
"I"m glad I came back when I did," sail Newland. "That fellow is the most notorious sponge in the school. We call him Spongy Spiller. He makes friends with all the new fellows, and sticks like a leech to them as long as they have a piece of cake, or a lump of barley-sugar, or anything else in their boxes, which he can get hold of. His desk is full of things, which, he says, were given him, but which he has, in reality, sponged out of fellows. About your box; unless there is anything in it which won"t keep, just don"t open it for a day or two, till you are able to judge for yourself a little of fellows. To-morrow is a half-holiday, and you will better see what the different fellows really are."
Digby said he would take his advice, for he felt sure that he might trust him. Both Newland and Spiller were strangers, but, when comparing the two, he did not for a moment hesitate as to which was most worthy of his confidence.
Just then the bell rang; and Paul told him they were to have prayers.
He expected to see Mr Sanford; but instead, Mr Yates entered the head-master"s desk, and saying that he was too unwell to come into the schoolroom, read a very brief form of prayer, while the boys knelt up on the forms at their desks.
Digby was not surprised to find very little attention or reverence, for though Mr Yates read slowly, in a loud voice, there was a something in his tone which showed that the devotional spirit was not there.
The moment prayers were over, the boys rushed off upstairs. The lamps were put out by a man in a fustian coat, whom Digby had not seen before.
Digby found Paul by his side.
"Come along quickly, or you will have an apple-pie bed made," he said, in a low voice. "You ought to have been out one of the first."
"Never mind," answered Digby, laughing. "I know how to unmake it fast enough. I have done such a thing as make one myself."
"Very well, then," said Paul, "we need not hurry. You are to sleep in our room, I find. I have gone through a good deal from the fellows there, though they now let me alone. You"ll not have a pleasant night of it, I am afraid. I wish that I could help you."
"You can help me," exclaimed Digby, who had been been silent for some time, as they went upstairs. "I have made up my mind how to act. Is there no one who would support you?"
"Yes; I think that there is one, Farnham. He is a good sort of fellow, but he generally sides with the majority. However, if he sees anything done in a spirited way, it would take with him."
"Then I"ll do it," cried Digby. "There are no very big fellows who could thrash me easily."
"There are two or three a good deal bigger than you are; and I don"t think that you could thrash them."
"I don"t mind that," answered Digby. "They would find me very tough, at all events, if they attempt to thrash me. You go into the room first; it won"t do to let it appear as if we had formed any plan together."
Newland seemed highly delighted at Digby"s proposal, and ran on into the room, which was at the end of a long pa.s.sage.
Digby followed in a few seconds. He had noted well the position of the bed Mrs Pike had told him was to be his, so he walked straight up to it. Susan had placed his night-shirt and night-cap on the pillow. A lamp, with a tin reflector, placed against the wall, over the wash-hand places, gave light to the room. Most of the boys had already got their clothes off, and had tumbled into bed; they were laughing, and talking, and cutting jokes with each other.