Frank Fairlegh

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FRANK FAIRLEGH

SCENES FROM THE LIFE OF A PRIVATE PUPIL

BY

FRANK E. SMEDLEY

"How now! good lack! what present have we here?
A Book that goes in peril of the press;
But now it's past those pikes, and doth appear
To keep the lookers-on from heaviness.
What stuff contains it?"

_Davies of Hereford_

WITH TWENTY-EIGHT ILLUSTRATIONS BY GEORGE CRUIKSHANK

A NEW EDITION

METHUEN & CO. LONDON

1904

THIS Issue is founded on the First Edition, published by A. Hall,
Virtue, & Co., in the year 1850.

I. All Right! Off We Go! 1

II. Loss and Gain 12

III. Cold-water Cure for the Heartache 21

IV. Wherein is Commenced the Adventure of
the Macintosh and Other Matters 28

V. Mad Bess 39

VI. Lawless Gets Thoroughly Pot Oot 46

VII. The Board of Green Cloth 59

VIII. Good Resolutions 71

IX. A Denouement 81

X. The Boating Party 93

XI. Breakers Ahead! 100

XII. Death and Change 106

XIII. Catching a Shrimp 114

XIV. The Ball 122

XV. Ringing the Curfew 129

XVI. The Roman Father 136

XVII. The Invisible Girl 145

XVIII. The Game in Barstone Park 150

XIX. Turning the Tables 155

XX. Alma Mater 160

XXI. The Wine Party 163

XXII. Taming a Shrew 173

XXIII. What Harry and I Found When We Lost
Our Way 182

XXIV. How Oaklands Broke His Horsewhip 190

XXV. The Challenge 198

XXVI. Coming Events Cast Their Shadows
Before 205

XXVII. The Duel 212

XXVIII. The Substance of the Shadow 220

XXIX. The Struggle in Chesterton Meadow 229

XXX. Mr. Frampton's Introduction to a Tiger 234

XXXI. How I Rise a Degree, and Mr. Frampton
Gets Elevated in More Ways Than One 242

XXXII. Catching Sight of an Old Flame 250

XXXIII. Woman's a Riddle 257

XXXIV. The Riddle Baffles Me! 264

XXXV. A Mysterious Letter 272

XXXVI. The Riddle Solved 280

XXXVII. The Forlorn Hope 288

XXXVIII. Facing the Enemy 296

XXXIX. The Council of War 304

XL. Lawless's Matinee Musicale 313

XLI. How Lawless Became a Lady's Man 322

XLII. The Meet at Eversley Gorse 331

XLIII. A Charade--Not All Acting 340

XLIV. Confessions 350

XLV. Helping a Lame Dog Over a Stile 360

XLVI. Tears and Smiles 369

XLVII. A Cure for the Heartache 378

XLVHI. Paying Off Old Scores 389

XLIX. Mr. Frampton Makes a Discovery 399

L. A Ray of Sunshine 408

LI. Freddy Coleman Falls into Difficulties 417

LII. Lawless Astonishes Mr. Coleman 425

LIII. A Comedy of Errors 432

LIV. Mr. Vernor Meets His Match 440

LV. The Pursuit 447

LVI. Retribution 454

LVII. Woo'd and Married 463

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

Frank Fairlegh Caught in the Trap 27

Lawless Ornamenting Frank's Writing-desk 29

Mad Bess 44

Lawless Finds his Level 56

The Doctor Makes a Discovery 79

The Doctor Expels a Pupil 90

Frank Rescues Coleman 104

The Fall op the Candelabrum 124

Freddy Coleman mystifies the Beadle 133

Lawless Eloping with the Fire-engine 135

The Wine Party 167

The Roused Lion 190

The Results ok giving Satisfaction 216

Fairlegh to the Rescue 231

Hurra! Hurra! Room for the Governor 246

The Shy Young Gentleman Favours the Company
with a Song 249

A Mysterious Bonnet 253

An Unexpected Reverse 266

The Discovery 281

The Lover's Leap 338

A Charade--Not all Acting 345

A New Cure for the Heartache 382

A Striking Position 398

The Reconciliation 418

Mammon Worship 430

A Messenger of Evil 447

The Retribution 457

The Rescue 459

FRANK FAIRLEGH

OR

SCENES FROM THE LIFE OF A PRIVATE PUPIL

CHAPTER I -- ALL RIGHT! OFF WE GO!

~1~~

"Yet here... you are stayed for
... There; my blessing with you,
And these few precepts in thy memory
See thou character-----"

"Home-keeping youth have ever homely wits.
I rather would entreat thy company
To see the wonders of the world abroad,
Than living dully, sluggardis'd at home,
Wear out thy youth with shapeless idleness."

"Where unbruised youth, with unstuff'd brain,
Doth couch his limbs, there golden sleep doth reign."
_Shakspeare_

"NEVER forget, under any circumstances, to think and act like a
gentleman, and don't exceed your allowance," said my father.

"Mind you read your Bible, and remember what I told you about wearing
flannel waistcoats," cried my mother.

And with their united "God bless you, my boy!" still ringing in my ears,
I found myself inside the stage-coach, on my way to London.

Now, I am well aware that the correct thing for a boy in my situation
(i.e. leaving home for the first time) would be to fall back on his
seat, and into a reverie, during which, utterly lost to all external
impressions, he should entertain the thoughts and feelings of a
well-informed man of thirty; the same thoughts and feelings being
clothed in ~2~~the semi-poetic prose of a fashionable novel-writer.
Deeply grieved, therefore, am I at being forced both to set at nought so
laudable an established precedent, and to expose my own degeneracy. But
the truth must be told at all hazards. The only feeling I experienced,
beyond a vague sense of loneliness and desolation, was one of great
personal discomfort. It rained hard, so that a small stream of water,
which descended from the roof of the coach as I entered it, had
insinuated itself between one of the flannel waistcoats, which formed
so important an item in the maternal valediction, and my skin, whence,
endeavouring to carry out what a logician would call the "law of its
being," by finding its own level, it placed me in the undesirable
position of an involuntary disciple of the cold-water cure taking a
"sitz-bad". As to my thoughts, the reader shall have the full benefit
of them, in the exact order in which they flitted through my brain.

First came a vague desire to render my position more comfortable, ending
in a forlorn hope that intense and continued sitting might, by some
undefined process of evaporation, cure the evil. This suggested a
speculation, half pleasing and half painful, as to what would be
my mother's feelings could she be aware of the state of things; the
pleasure being the result of that mysterious preternatural delight which
a boy always takes in everything at all likely to injure his health,
or endanger his existence, and the pain arising from the knowledge that
there was now no one near me to care whether I was comfortable or not.
Again, these speculations merged into a sort of dreamy wonder, as to
why a queer little old gentleman opposite (my sole fellow-traveller) was
grunting like a pig, at intervals of about a minute, though he was wide
awake the whole time; and whether a small tuft of hair, on a mole at
the tip of his nose, could have anything to do with it. At this point my
meditations were interrupted by the old gentleman himself, who, after
a louder grunt than usual, gave vent to his feelings in the following
speech, which was partly addressed to me and partly a soliloquy.

"Umph! going to school, my boy, eh?" then, in a lower tone, "Wonder why
I called him my boy, when he's no such thing: just like me, umph!"

I replied by informing him that I was not exactly going to school--(I
was nearly fifteen, and the word "school" sounded derogatory to my
dignity)--but that, having been up to the present time educated at home
by my father, I was now on my way to complete my studies under the care
of a private tutor, who only received six pupils, a very different thing
from a school, as I took the liberty of insinuating.

"Umph! different thing? You will cost more, learn less, and fancy
yourself a man when you are a boy; that's the only difference I can
see:" then came the aside--"Snubbing the poor child, when he's a peg too
low already, just like me; umph!"

After which he relapsed into a silence which continued uninterrupted
until we reached London, save once, while we were changing horses, when
he produced a flask with a silver top, and, taking a sip himself, asked
me if I drank brandy. On my shaking my head, with a smile caused by
what appeared to me the utter wildness and desperation of the notion, he
muttered:--

"Umph! of course he doesn't; how should he?--just like me".

In due course of time we reached the Old Bell Inn, Holborn, where the
coach stopped, and where my trunk and myself were to be handed over to
the tender mercies of the coachman of the Rocket, a fast coach (I speak
of the slow old days when railroads were unknown) which then ran to
Helmstone, the watering-place where my future tutor, the Rev. Dr.
Mildman, resided. My first impressions of London are scarcely worth
recording, for the simple reason that they consisted solely of intense
and unmitigated surprise at everything and everybody I saw and
heard; which may be more readily believed when I add the fact that my
preconceived notions of the metropolis had led me to imagine it perhaps
might be twice the size of the town nearest to my father's house; in
short, almost as large as Grosvenor Square.

Here, then, I parted company with my fellow-traveller, who took leave of
me thus:--

"Umph! well, good-bye; be a good boy--good man, you'd like me to say,
I suppose; man, indeed! umph! don't forget what your parents told you";
then adding, "Of course he will, what's the use of telling him not?
just like me";--he dived into the recesses of a hackney-coach, and
disappeared.

Nothing worthy of note occurred during my journey to Helmstone, where
we arrived at about half-past four in the afternoon. My feelings of
surprise and admiration were destined once more to be excited on this
(to me) memorable day, as, in my way from the coach-office to Langdale
Terrace, where Dr. Mildman resided, I beheld, for the first time, that
most stupendous work of God, the mighty Ocean; which, alike in its wild
resistless freedom, and its ~4~~miraculous obedience to the command,
"Thus far shalt thou come, and no further," bears at once the plainest
print of its Almighty Creator's hand, while it affords a strong and
convincing proof of His omnipotence.

On knocking at the door of Dr. Mildman's house (if the truth must
be told, it was with a trembling hand I did so) it was opened by a
man-servant, whose singularly plain features were characterised by
an expression alternating between extreme civility and an intense
appreciation of the ludicrous.

On mentioning my name, and asking if Dr. Mildman was at home, he
replied:--

"Yes, sir, master's in, sir; so you're Mr. Fairlegh, sir, our new young
gent, sir?" (here the ludicrous expression predominated); "hope you'll
be comfortable, sir" (here he nearly burst into a laugh); "show you into
master's study, sir, directly" (here he became preternaturally grave
again); and, opening the study door, ushered me into the presence of the
dreaded tutor.

On my entrance Dr. Mildman (for such I presumed a middle-aged gentleman,
the sole tenant of the apartment, to be) rose from a library table, at
which he had been seated, and, shaking me kindly by the hand, inquired
after the health of my father and mother, what sort of journey I had
had, and sundry other particulars of the like nature, evidently with the
good-humoured design of putting me a little more at my ease, as I
have no doubt the trepidation I was well aware of feeling inwardly, at
finding myself _tete-a-tete_ with a real live tutor, was written in very
legible characters on my countenance. Dr. Mildman, whose appearance
I studied with an anxious eye, was a gentlemanly-looking man of
five-and-forty, or thereabouts, with a high bald forehead, and good
features, the prevailing expression of which, naturally mild and
benevolent, was at times chequered by that look which all schoolmasters
sooner or later acquire-a look which seems to say, "Now, sir, do you
intend to mind me or do you not?" Had it not been for this, and for
an appearance of irresolution about the mouth, he would have been a
decidedly fine-looking man. While I was making these observations he
informed me that I had arrived just in time for dinner, and that the
servant should show me to my sleeping apartment, whence, when I had
sacrificed to the Graces (as he was pleased to call dressing), I was to
descend to the drawing-room, and be introduced to Mrs. Mildman and my
future companions.

My sleeping-room, which was rather a small garret than otherwise, was
furnished, as it appeared to me, with more ~5~~regard to economy than to
the comfort of its inmate. At one end stood a small four-post bedstead,
which, owing to some mysterious cause, chose to hold its near fore-leg
up in the air, and slightly advanced, thereby impressing the beholder
with the idea that it was about to trot into the middle of the room. On
an unpainted deal table stood a looking-glass, which, from a habit it
had of altering and embellishing the face of any one who consulted it,
must evidently have possessed a strong natural taste for the ludicrous:
an ancient washing-stand, supporting a basin and towel, and a
dissipated-looking chair completed the catalogue.

And here, while preparing for the alarming ordeal I was so soon to
undergo, let me present to the reader a slight sketch of myself, mental
and bodily; and, as mind ought to take precedence of matter, I will
attempt, as far as I am able after the lapse of time, to paint my
character in true colours, "nought extenuating, nor setting down aught
in malice". I was, then, as the phrase goes, "a very well-behaved young
gentleman"; that is, I had a great respect for all properly constituted
authorities, and an extreme regard for the proprieties of life; was very
particular about my shoes being clean, and my hat nicely brushed; always
said "Thank you" when a servant handed me a plate, and "May I trouble
you?" when I asked for a bit of bread. In short, I bade fair in time to
become a thorough old bachelor; one of those unhappy mortals whose lives
are alike a burthen to themselves and others-men who, by magnifying
the minor household miseries into events of importance, are uneasy and
suspicious about the things from the wash having been properly aired,
and become low and anxious as the dreadful time approaches when clean
sheets are inevitable! My ideas of a private tutor, derived chiefly from
_Sandford and Merton_, and _Evenings at Home_, were rather wide of the
mark, leading me to expect that Dr. Mildman would impart instruction
to us during long rambles over green fields, and in the form of moral
allegories, to which we should listen with respectful attention and
affectionate esteem. With regard to my outward man, or rather boy, I
should have been obliged to confine myself to such particulars as I
could remember, namely, that I was tall for my age, but slightly built,
and so thin, as often to provoke the application of such epithets as
"hop-pole," "thread-paper," etc., had it not been that, in turning over
some papers a few days since, I stumbled on a water-colour sketch of
myself, which I well remember being taken by a young artist in the
neighbourhood, just ~6~~before I left home, in the hope of consoling
my mother for my departure. It represented a lad about fifteen, in
a picturesque attitude, feeding a pony out of a very elegant little
basket, with what appeared to be white currants, though I have every
reason to believe they were meant for oats. The aforesaid youth rejoiced
in an open shirt-collar and black ribbon _a la_ Byron, curling hair of a
dark chestnut colour, regular features, a high forehead, complexion like
a girl's, very pink and white, and a pair of large blue eyes, engaged in
regarding the white currant oats with intense surprise, as well indeed
they might. Whether this young gentleman bore more resemblance to me
than the currants did to oats, I am, of course, unable to judge; but, as
the portrait represented a very handsome boy, I hope none of my readers
will be rude enough to doubt that it was a striking likeness.

I now proceeded to render myself thoroughly wretched, by attempting to
extricate the articles necessary for a change of dress from the very
bottom of my trunk, where, according to the nature of such things, they
had hidden themselves; grammars, lexicons, and other like "Amenities of
Literature," being the things that came to hand most readily. Scarcely
had I contrived to discover a wearable suit when I was informed that
dinner was on the table; so, hastily tumbling into my clothes, and
giving a final peep at the facetious looking-glass, the result of which
was to twist the bow of my Byron tie under my left ear, in the belief
that I was thereby putting it straight, I rushed downstairs, just
in time to see the back of the hindmost pupil disappear through the
dining-room door.

"Better late than never, Fairlegh. Mrs. Mildman, this is Fairlegh;
he can sit by you, Coleman;-'For what we are going to receive,'
etc.;--Thomas, the carving-knife."

Such was the address with which my tutor greeted my entrance, and,
during its progress, I popped into a seat indicated by a sort of half
wink from Thomas, resisting by a powerful act of self-control a sudden
impulse which seized me to bolt out of the room, and do something rash
but indefinite, between going to sea and taking prussic acid; not quite
either, but partaking of the nature of both. "Take soup, Fairlegh?" said
Dr. Mildman. "Thank you, sir, if you please."

"A pleasant journey, had you?" inquired Mrs. Mildman.

"Not any, I am much obliged to you," I replied, thinking of the fish.

This produced a total silence, during which the pupils ~7~~exchanged
glances, and Thomas concealed an illicit smile behind the bread-basket.

"Does your father," began Dr. Mildman in a very grave and deliberate
manner, "does your father shoot?--boiled mutton, my dear?"

I replied that he had given it up of late years, as the fatigue was too
much for him.

"Oh! I was very fond of carrying a gun-pepper-when I was-a spoon-at
Oxford; I could hit a-mashed potato-bird as well as most men; yes, I was
very sorry to give up my double-barrel-ale, Thomas."

"You came inside, I believe?" questioned Mrs. Mildman, a lady possessing
a shadowy outline, indistinct features faintly characterised by an
indefinite expression, long ringlets of an almost impossible shade
of whity-brown, and a complexion and general appearance only to be
described by the term "washed out".

"Yes, all the way, ma'am."

"Did you not dislike it very much? it creases one's gown so, unless it
is a merino or mousseline-de-laine; but one can't always wear them, you
know."

Not being in the least prepared with a suitable answer, I merely made
what I intended to be an affirmative ahem, in doing which a crumb of
bread chose to go the wrong way, producing a violent fit of coughing,
in the agonies of which I seized and drank off Dr. Mildman's tumbler of
ale, mistaking it for my own small beer. The effect of this, my crowning
_gaucherie_, was to call forth a languid smile on the countenance of the
senior pupil, a tall young man, with dark hair, and a rather forbidding
expression of face, which struggled only too successfully with an
attempt to look exceedingly amiable; which smile was repeated with
variations by all the others.

"I'm afraid you do not distinctly perceive the difference between those
important pronouns, _meum_ and _tuum_, Fairlegh? Thomas, a clean glass!"
said Dr. Mildman, with a forced attempt at drollery; but Thomas had
evaporated suddenly, leaving no clue to his whereabouts, unless sundry
faint sounds of suppressed laughter outside the door, indicating, as I
fancied, his extreme appreciation of my unfortunate mistake, proceeded
from him.

It is, I believe, a generally received axiom that all mortal affairs
must sooner or later come to an end; at all events, the dinner I have
been describing did not form an exception to the rule. In due time Mrs.
Mildman disappeared, after which Dr. Mildman addressed a remark or two
about Greek tragedy to the tall pupil, which led to a ~8~~dissertation
on the merits of a gentleman named Prometheus, who, it seemed, was bound
in some peculiar way, but whether this referred to his apprenticeship to
any trade, or to the cover of the book containing his history, did not
appear. This conversation lasted about ten minutes, at the expiration of
which the senior pupil "grinned horribly a ghastly smile" at the others,
who instantly rose, and conveyed themselves out of the room with such
rapidity that I, being quite unprepared for such a proceeding, sat for a
moment in silent amazement, and then, becoming suddenly alive to a sense
of my situation, rushed frantically after them. My speed was checked
somewhat abruptly by a door at the end of the passage being violently
slammed in my face, for which polite attention I was indebted to the
philanthropy of the hindmost pupil, who thereby imposed upon me the
agreeable task of feeling in the dark for a door-handle in an unknown
locality. After fumbling for some time, in a state of the greatest
bewilderment I at length opened the door, and beheld the interior of
the "pupils' room," which, for the benefit of such of my readers as may
never have seen the like, I will now endeavour shortly to describe.

The parlour devoted to the pupils' use was of a good size, nearly
square, and, like the cabin of a certain "ould Irish gentleman,"
appeared to be fitted up with "nothing at all for show". In three of the
corners stood small tables covered with books and writing materials for
the use of Dr. Mildman and the two senior pupils; in the fourth was a
book-case. The centre of the room was occupied by a large square table,
the common property of the other pupils; while a carpet, "a little
the worse for wear," and sundry veteran chairs, rather crazy from the
treatment to which many generations of pupils had subjected them
(a chair being the favourite projectile in the event of a shindy),
completed the catalogue. Mr. Richard Cumberland, the senior pupil, was
lounging in an easy attitude on one side of the fireplace; on the
other stood, bolt upright, a lad rather older than myself, with a long
unmeaning face, and a set of arms and legs which appeared not to belong
to one another. This worthy, as I soon learned, responded to the name
of Nathaniel Mullins, and usually served as the butt of the party in the
absence of newer or worthier game. Exactly in front of the fire, with
his coat-tails under his arms, and his legs extended like a pair of
compasses, was stationed Mr. George Lawless, who, having been expelled
from one of the upper forms at Eton for some heroic exploit which the
head master could not be persuaded to ~9~~view in its proper light, was
sent to vegetate for a year or two at Dr. Mildman's ere he proceeded to
one of the universities. This gentleman was of rather a short thick-set
figure, with a large head, and an expression of countenance resembling
that of a bull when the animal "means mischief," and was supposed by his
friends to be more "thoroughly wide awake" than any one of his years
in the three kingdoms. The quartette was completed by Mr. Frederick
Coleman, a small lad, with a round merry face, who was perched on the
back of a chair, with his feet resting on the hob, and his person so
disposed as effectually to screen every ray of fire from Nathaniel
Mullins.