Frank Fairlegh

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"You are not cold, Fairlegh? Don't let me keep the fire from you," said
Lawless, without, however, showing the slightest intention of moving.
"Not very, thank you."

"Eh! quite right--glad to hear it. It's Mildman's wish that, during the
first half, no pupil should come on the hearthrug. I made a point of
conscience of it myself when I first came. The Spartans, you know, never
allowed their little boys to do so, and even the Athenians, a much more
luxurious people, always had their pinafores made of asbestos, or some
such fireproof stuff. You are well read in Walker's _History of Greece_,
I hope?" I replied that I was afraid I was not. "Never read _Hookeyus
Magnus_? Your father ought to be ashamed of himself for neglecting you
so. You are aware, I suppose, that the Greeks had a different sort of
fire from what we burn nowadays? You've heard of Greek fire?"

I answered that I had, but did not exactly understand what it meant.

"Not know that, either? disgraceful! Well, it was a kind of way they
had of flaring up in those times a sort of 'light of other days,' which
enabled them to give their friends a warm reception; so much so, indeed,
that their friends found it too warm sometimes, and latterly they
usually reserved it for their enemies. Mind you remember all this, for
it is one of the first things old Sam will be sure to ask you."

Did my ears deceive me? Could he have called the tutor, the dreaded
tutor, "old Sam"? I trembled as I stood--plain, unhonoured "Sam," as
though he had spoken of a footman! The room turned round with me. Alas
for Sandford and Merton, and affectionate and respectful esteem!

"But how's this?" continued Lawless, "we have ~10~~forgotten to
introduce you in form to your companions, and to enter your name in the
books of the establishment; why, Cumberland, what were you thinking of?"

"Beg pardon," rejoined Cumberland, "I really was so buried in thought,
trying to solve that problem about bisecting the Siamese twins--you know
it, Lawless? However, it is not too late, is it? Allow me to introduce
you, Mr. Fairplay------"

"Legh, sir," interrupted I.

"Ah, exactly; well, then, Mr. Fairlegh, let me introduce this gentleman,
Mr. George Lawless, who has, if I mistake not, been already trying, with
his usual benevolence, to supply a few of your deficiencies; he is,
if he will allow me to say so, one of the most rising young men of his
generation, one of the firmest props of the glorious edifice of our
rights and privileges."

"A regular brick," interposed Coleman. "Hold your tongue, Freddy: little
boys should be seen and not heard, as Tacitus tells us," said Lawless,
reprovingly.

The only reply to this, if reply it could be called, was something which
sounded to me like a muttered reference to the Greek historian Walker,
whom Lawless had so lately mentioned; and Cumberland continued:--

"You will pay great attention to everything Lawless tells you,
and endeavour to improve by following his example, at a respectful
distance--ahem! The gentleman on your right hand, Mr. Mullins, who is
chiefly remarkable for looking ['like a fool,' put in Coleman, _sotto
voce_], before he leaps, so long, that in general he postpones leaping
altogether, and is in the habit of making ['an ass of himself,'
suggested Coleman]--really, Freddy, I am surprised at you--of making two
bites at a cherry--you will be better able to appreciate when you know
more of him. As to my young friend Freddy here, his naturally good
abilities and amiable temper ['Draw it mild, old fellow!' interrupted
the young gentleman in question] have interested us so much in his
favour that we cannot but view with regret a habit he has of late fallen
into, of turning everything into ridicule ['What a pity!' from the same
individual], together with a lamentable addiction to the use of slang
terms. Let me hope his association with such a polished young gentleman
as Mr. Fairlegh may improve him in these particulars."

"Who drank Mildman's ale at dinner?" asked Coleman; "if that's a
specimen of his polished manners, I think mine take the shine out of
them, rather." ~11~~"I assure you," interrupted I, eagerly, "I never was
more distressed in my life; it was quite a mistake."

"Pretty good mistake--Hodgson's pale ale for Muddytub's swipes--eh,
Mull?" rejoined Coleman.

"I believe you," replied Mullins.

"Well, now for entering your name; that's important, you know," said
Lawless; "you had better ring the bell, and tell Thomas to bring the
books."

I obeyed, and when Thomas made his appearance informed him of my desire
to enter my name in the books of the establishment, which I begged he
would bring for that purpose. A look of bewilderment that came over his
face on hearing my request changed to an expression of intelligence, as,
after receiving some masonic sign from Lawless, he replied:--

"The books, sir; yes, sir; bring 'em directly, sir ".

After a few minutes he returned with two small, not overclean, books,
ruled with blue lines. One of these Lawless took from him, opened with
much ceremony, and, covering the upper part of the page with a bit of
blotting paper, pointed to a line, and desired me to write my name and
age, as well as the date of my arrival, upon it. The .same ceremony was
repeated with the second.

"That's all right: now let's see how it reads," said he, and, removing
the blotting paper, read as follows: "'Pair of Wellingtons, L1 15s.;
satin stock, 25s.; cap ribbon for Sally Duster, 2s. 6d.; box of cigars,
L1 16s. (mem. shocking bad lot)--5th Nov., Francis Fairlegh, aged
15'.--So much for that; now, let's see the next: 'Five shirts, four pair
of stockings, six pocket-handkerchiefs, two pair of white ducks--5th
Nov., Francis Fairlegh, aged 15'."

Here his voice was drowned in a roar of laughter from the whole party
assembled, Thomas included, during which the true state of the case
dawned upon me, viz.--that I had, with much pomp and ceremony, entered
my name, age, and the date of my arrival in Mr. George Lawless's private
account and washing books!

My thoughts, as I laid my aching head upon my pillow that night, were
not of the most enviable nature. Leaving for the first time the home
where I had lived from childhood, and in which I had met with affection
and kindness from all around me, had been a trial under which my
fortitude would most assuredly have given way, but for the brilliant
picture my imagination had very obligingly sketched of the happy family
of which I was about to become a member; in the foreground of which
stood a group of fellow-pupils, a united brotherhood of congenial
~12~~souls,, containing three bosom friends at the very least, anxiously
awaiting my arrival with outstretched arms of welcome. Now, however,
this last hope had failed me; for, innocent (or, as Coleman would have
termed it, green) as I then was, I could not but perceive that the tone
of mock politeness assumed towards me by Cumberland and Lawless was
merely a convenient cloak for impertinence, which could be thrown aside
at any moment when a more open display of their powers of tormenting
should seem advisable. In fact (though I was little aware of the
pleasures in store for me), I had already seen enough to prove that the
life of a private pupil was not exactly "all my fancy painted it"; and,
as the misery of leaving those I loved proved in its "sad reality"
a much more serious affair than I had imagined, the result of my
cogitations was, that I was a very unhappy boy (I did not feel the
smallest inclination to boast myself _man_ at that moment), and that, if
something very much to my advantage did not turn up in the course of
the next twenty-four hours, my friends would have the melancholy
satisfaction of depositing a broken heart (which, on the principle of
the Kilkenny cats, was all I expected would remain of me by that time)
in an early grave. Hereabouts my feelings becoming too many for me
at the thought of my own funeral, I fairly gave up the struggle, and,
bursting into a flood of tears, cried myself to sleep, like a child.

CHAPTER II -- LOSS AND GAIN

"And youthful still, in your doublet and hose, this raw
rheumatic day?"

"His thefts were too open; his filching was like an
unskilful singer, he kept not time.... Convey, the wise
it call. 'Steal!' foh! a fico for the phrase!"--
_Shakspeare._

"From _Greenland's_ icy mountains."--_Heber_.

AMONGST the minor phenomena which are hourly occurring in the details
of everyday life, although we are seldom sufficiently close observers to
perceive them, there is none more remarkable than the change wrought in
our feelings and ideas by a good night's rest; and never was this change
more strikingly exemplified than on the present occasion. I had fallen
asleep in the act of performing the character of chief-mourner at my own
funeral, and I awoke ~13~~in the highest possible health and spirits,
with a strong determination never to "say die" under any conceivable
aspect affairs might assume. "What in the world," said I to myself, as I
sprang out of bed, and began to dress,--"What in the world was there for
me to make myself so miserable about last night? Suppose Cumberland and
Lawless should laugh at, and tease me a little at first, what does it
signify? I must take it in good part as long as I can, and if that does
not do I must speak seriously to them--tell them they really annoy me
and make me uncomfortable, and then, of course, they will leave off. As
to Coleman, I am certain------Well, it's very odd!"--this last remark
was elicited by the fact that a search I had been making for some
minutes, in every place possible and impossible, for that indispensable
article of male attire, my trousers, had proved wholly ineffectual,
although I had a distinct recollection of having placed them carefully
on a chair by my bedside the previous night. There, however, they
certainly were not now, nor, as far as I could discover, anywhere else
in the room. Under these circumstances, ringing the bell for Thomas
seemed advisable, as it occurred to me that he had probably abstracted
the missing garment for the purpose of brushing. In a few moments he
answered the summons, and, with a face bright from the combined effects
of a light heart and a severe application of yellow soap, inquired, "if
I had rung for my shaving water?"

"Why, no---I do not--that is, it was not--I seldom shave of a morning;
for the fact is, I have no beard to shave as yet."

"Oh, sir, that's no reason; there's Mr. Coleman's not got the leastest
westige of a hair upon his chin, and he's been mowing away with the
greatest of persewerance for the last six months, and sends his rashier
to be ground every three weeks, regilar, in order to _get_ a beard--but
what can I do for you, sir?"

"Why," replied I, trying to look grave, "it's very odd, but I have
lost--that is, I can't find--my trousers anywhere. I put them on this
chair last night, I know."

"Umph! that's sing'lar, too; I was just a coming upstairs to brush 'em
for you; you did not hear anybody come into your room after you went to
bed, did you, sir?"

"No; but then I was so tired--I slept as sound as a top."

"Ah! I shouldn't much wonder if Mr. Coleman knew something about 'em:
perhaps you had better put on another pair, and, if I can find 'em, I'll
bring 'em back after breakfast."

This was very good advice, and, therefore, of course, ~14~~impossible
to follow; for, on examining my trunk, lo and behold! dress pantaloons,
white ducks, _et hoc genus omne_, had totally disappeared, and I seemed
to stand a very good chance of making my first appearance at my tutor's
breakfast-table in an extemporary "kilt," improvised for the occasion
out of two towels and a checked neckcloth. In this extremity Thomas, as
a last resource, knocked at Coleman's door, informing him that I
should be glad to speak to him--a proceeding speedily followed by the
appearance of that gentleman _in propria persona_.

"Good-morning, Fairlegh! hope you slept well. You are looking cold; had
not you better get some clothes on? Mildman will be down in a minute,
and there will be a pretty row if we are not all there; he's precious
particular, I can tell you."

"That is exactly what I want to do," replied I; "but the fact is,
somebody has taken away all my trousers in the night."

"Bless me! you don't say so? Another case of pilfering! this is getting
serious: I will call Lawless--I say, Lawless!" "Well, what's the row?"
was the reply. "Have the French landed? or is the kitchen chimney on
fire? eh! What do I behold! Fairlegh, lightly and elegantly attired in
nothing but his shirt, and Thomas standing like Niobe, the picture of
woe! Here's a sight for a father!"

"Why, it's a bad job," said Coleman; "do you know, here's another case
of pilfering; Fairlegh has had all his trousers stolen in the night."

"You don't say so!" rejoined Lawless: "what is to be done? It must be
stopped somehow: we had better tell him all we know about it. Thomas,
leave the room."

Thomas obeyed, giving me a look of great intelligence, the meaning of
which, however, I was totally at a loss to conceive, as he went; and
Lawless continued:--

"I am afraid you will hardly believe us,--it is really a most unheard-of
thing,--but we have lately missed a great many of our clothes, and we
have every reason to suspect (I declare I can scarcely bear to mention
it) that Mildman takes them himself, fancying, of course, that, placed
by his position so entirely above suspicion, he may do it with
impunity. We have suspected this for some time; and lately one or two
circumstances--old clothesmen having been observed leaving his study, a
pawn-ticket falling out of his waistcoat pocket one day as he went out
of our parlour, etc.--have put the matter beyond a doubt; but he has
never gone to such an extent as this before. Mind you don't mention a
word of this to Thomas, for, bad as ~15~~Mildman is, one would not wish
to show him up before his own servant."

"Good gracious!" cried I, "but you are joking, it never can be
really true!" Reading, however, in the solemn, not to say distressed,
expression of their faces indisputable evidence of the reality of the
accusation, I continued: "I had no idea such things ever could take
place, and he a clergyman, too!--dreadful! but what in the world am I
to do? I have not got a pair of trousers to put on. Oh! if he would
but have taken anything else, even my watch instead, I should not have
minded--what shall I do?"

"Why really," replied Coleman, "it is not so easy to advise: you can't
go down as you are, that's certain. Suppose you were to wrap yourself up
in a blanket, and go and tell him you have found him out, and that you
will call a policeman if he does not give you your clothes instantly;
have it out with him fairly, and check the thing effectually once for
all--eh?"

"No, that won't do," said Lawless. "I should say, sit down quietly (how
cold you must be!) and write him a civil note, saying, that you had
reason to believe he had borrowed your trousers (that's the way I should
put it), and that you would be very much gratified by his lending you
a pair to wear to-day; and then you can stick in something about
your having been always accustomed to live with people who were very
particular in regard to dress, and that you are sorry you are obliged to
trouble him for such a trifle; in fact, do a bit of the respectful, and
then pull up short with 'obedient pupil,' etc."

"Ay, that's the way to do it," said Coleman, "in the shop-fellow's
style, you know--much obliged for past favours, and hope for a
continuance of the same--more than _you_ do, though, Fairlegh, I should
fancy; but there goes the bell--I am off," and away he scudded, followed
by Lawless humming:--

"Brian O'Lynn had no breeches to wear,
So he took an old catskin, and made him a pair."

Here was a pretty state of things: the breakfast bell had rung, and I,
who considered being too late a crime of the first magnitude, was unable
even to begin dressing from the melancholy fact that every pair of
trousers I possessed in the world had disappeared; while, to complete my
misery, I was led to believe the delinquent who had abstracted them
was no less a person than the tutor, whom I had come fully prepared to
regard with feelings of the utmost respect and veneration.

~16~~However, in such a situation, thinking over my miseries was worse
than useless; _something_ must be done at once--but what? Write the note
as Lawless had advised? No, it was useless to think of that; I felt
I could not do it. "Ah! a bright idea!--I'll try it." So, suiting the
action to the word, I rang the bell, and then jumping into bed muffled
myself up in the bedclothes.

"Well, sir, have you found them?" asked Thomas, entering.

"No, Thomas," replied I dolefully, "nor ever shall, I fear; but will you
go to 'Dr. Mildman, and tell him, with my respects, that I cannot get up
to breakfast this morning, and, if he asks what is the matter with me,
say that I am prevented from coming down by _severe cold_. I am sure
that is true enough," added I, shivering.

"Well, sir, I will, if you wish it; but I don't exactly see the good of
it; you _must_ get up some time or other."

"I don't know," replied I gloomily, "we shall see; only do you take my
message."

And he accordingly left the room, muttering as he did so, "Well, I calls
this a great deal too bad, and I'll tell master of it myself, if nobody
else won't".

"Tell master of it himself!"--he also suspected him then. This crushed
my last faint hope that, after all, it might turn out to be only a trick
of the pupils; and, overpowered by the utter vileness and depravity of
him who was set in authority over me, I buried my face in the pillow,
feeling a strong inclination to renew the lamentations of the preceding
night. Not many minutes had elapsed when the sound of a heavy footstep
slowly ascending the stairs attracted my attention. I raised my head,
and beheld the benevolent countenance (for even then it certainly did
wear a benevolent expression) of my wicked tutor, regarding me with a
mingled look of scrutiny and pity.

"Why, Fairlegh, what's all this?--Thomas tells me you are not able to
come down to breakfast; you are not ill, I hope?"

"No, sir," replied I, "I don't think I am very ill, but I _can't_ come
down to breakfast."

"Not ill, and yet you can't come down to breakfast! pray, what in the
world prevents you?"

"Perhaps," said I (for I was becoming angry at what I considered his
unparalleled effrontery, and thought I would give him a hint that he
could not deceive me so easily as he seemed to expect), "perhaps you can
tell that better than I can."

~17~~"I, my boy!--I'm afraid not; my pretensions to the title of doctor
are based on divinity, not physic:--however, put out your tongue--that's
right enough; let me feel your hand--a little cold or so, but nothing to
signify; did this kind of seizure ever happen to you at home?"

Well, this was adding insult to injury with a vengeance; not content
with stealing my clothes himself, but actually asking me whether such
things did not happen at home! The wretch! thought I; does he suppose
that everybody is as wicked as himself?

"No," I answered, my voice trembling with the anger I was scarcely
able to repress; "no, sir, such a thing never could happen in my dear
father's house."

"There, don't agitate yourself; you seem excited: perhaps you _had_
better lie in bed a little longer; I will send you up something warm,
and after that you may feel more inclined to get up," said he kindly,
adding to himself, as he left the room, "Very strange boy--I can't make
him out at all".

The door closed, and I was once more alone. "Is he guilty or not
guilty?" thought I; "if he really has taken the clothes, he is the most
accomplished hypocrite I ever heard of; yet he _must_ have done so,
everything combines to prove it--Thomas's speech--nay, even his own
offer of sending me 'something warm'; something warm, indeed! what do
I want with anything warm, except my trousers? No! the fact was beyond
dispute; they were gone, and he had stolen them, whilst I, unhappy
youth, was entirely in his power, and had not therefore a chance
of redress. 'But I will not bear it,' cried I, 'I'll write to my
father--I'll run away--I'll------'"

"Hurrah!" shouted Thomas, rushing into the room with his arm full of
clothes, "here they are, sir; I have found the whole kit of them at
last."

"Where?" exclaimed I eagerly.

"Where? why in such a queer place!" replied he, "stuffed up the chimbley
in master's study; but I have given them a good brushing, and they are
none the worse for it, except them blessed white ducks; they are almost
black ducks now, though they will wash, so that don't signify none."

"Up the chimney, in master's study!" here was at last proof positive; my
clothes had been actually found in his possession--oh, the wickedness of
this world!

"But how did you ever find them?" asked I.

"Why! I happened to go in to fetch something, and I see'd a little bit
of the leg of one of them hanging down ~18~~the chimbley, so I guessed
how it all was, directly. I think I know how they got there, too; they
did not walk there by themselves, I should say."

"I wish they had," muttered I.

"I thought _somebody_ was up too early this morning to be about any
good," continued he; "he is never out of bed till the last moment,
without there's some mischief in the wind."

This was pretty plain speaking, however. Thomas was clearly as well
aware of his master's nefarious practices as the pupils themselves,
and Lawless's amiable desire to conceal Dr. Mildman's sins from his
servant's knowledge was no longer of any avail. I hastened, therefore
(the only reason for silence being thus removed), to relieve my mind
from the burden of just indignation which was oppressing it.

"And can you, Thomas," exclaimed I, with flashing eyes, "remain the
servant of a man who dares thus to outrage every law, human and divine?
one who having taken upon himself the sacred office of a clergyman of
the Church of England, and so made it his especial duty to set a good
example to all around him, can take advantage of the situation in which
he is placed in regard to his pupils, and actually demean himself by
purloining the clothes of the young men" (I felt five-and-twenty at
the very least at that moment) "committed to his charge?--why, my
father------"

What I imagined my father would have said or done under these
circumstances was fated to remain a mystery, as my eloquence was brought
to a sudden conclusion by my consternation, when a series of remarkable
phenomena, which had been developing themselves during my harangue in
the countenance of Thomas, terminated abruptly in what appeared to me a
fit of most unmitigated insanity. A look of extreme astonishment, which
he had assumed at the beginning of my speech, had given place to an
expression of mingled surprise and anger as I continued; which again
in its turn had yielded to a grin of intense amusement, growing every
moment broader and broader, accompanied by a spasmodic twitching of his
whole person; and, as I mentioned his master's purloining my trousers,
he suddenly sprang up from the floor nearly a yard high, and commenced
an extempore _pas seul_ of a Jim Crow character, which he continued with
unabated vigour during several minutes. This "_Mazurka d'ecstase_," or
whatever a ballet-master would have called it, having at length, to my
great joy, concluded, the performer of it sank exhausted into a chair,
and regarding me with a face still ~19~~somewhat the worse for his late
violent exertions favoured me with the following geographical remark:--

"Well, I never did believe in the existence of sich a place as Greenland
before, but there's nowhere else as you could have come from, sir, I am
certain."

"Eh! why! what's the matter with you? have I done anything particularly
'green,' as you call it? what are you talking about?" said I, not
feeling exactly pleased at the reception my virtuous indignation had met
with.

"Oh! don't be angry, sir; I am sure I did not mean to offend you; but
really I could not help it, when I heard you say about master's having
stole your things. Oh lor!" he added, holding his sides with both hands,
"how my precious sides do ache, sure-ly!"

"Do you consider that any laughing matter?" said I, still in the dark.

"Oh! don't, sir, don't say it again, or you will be the death of
me," replied Thomas, struggling against a relapse; "why, bless your
innocence, what could ever make you think master would take your
clothes?"

"Make me think? why, Lawless told me so," answered I, "and he also said
it was not the first time such a thing had occurred either."

"You'll have enough to do, sir, if you believe all our young gents tell
you; why, master would as soon think of flying as of stealing anything.
It was Mr. Coleman as put them up the chimbley; he's always a playing
some trick or another for everlasting."