Chapter 16 What Happened To Fenn

Fenn was up first. Many years' experience of being tackled at fullspeed on the football field had taught him how to fall. The stranger,whose football days, if he had ever had any, were long past, had gonedown with a crash, and remained on the pavement, motionless. Fenn wasconscious of an ignoble impulse to fly without stopping to chat aboutthe matter. Then he was seized with a gruesome fear that he hadinjured the man seriously, which vanished when the stranger sat up.

　　His first words were hardly of the sort that one would listen to fromchoice. His first printable expression, which did not escape him untilhe had been speaking some time, was in the nature of an officialbulletin.

　　"You've broken my neck," said he.

　　Fenn renewed his apologies and explanations.

　　"Your watch!" cried the man in a high, cracked voice. "Don't standthere talking about your watch, but help me up. What do I care aboutyour watch? Why don't you look where you are going to? Now then, nowthen, don't hoist me as if I were a hod of bricks. That's right. Nowhelp me indoors, and go away."Fenn supported him while he walked lamely into the house. He wasrelieved to find that there was nothing more the matter with him thana shaking and a few bruises.

　　"Door on the left," said the injured one.

　　Fenn led him down the passage and into a small sitting-room. The gaswas lit, and as he turned it up he saw that the stranger was a manwell advanced in years. He had grey hair that was almost white. Hisface was not a pleasant one. It was a mass of lines and wrinkles fromwhich a physiognomist would have deduced uncomplimentary conclusionsas to his character. Fenn had little skill in that way, but he feltthat for some reason he disliked the man, whose eyes, which were smalland extraordinarily bright, gave rather an eerie look to his face.

　　"Go away, go away," he kept repeating savagely from his post on theshabby sofa on which Fenn had deposited him.

　　"But are you all right? Can't I get you something?" asked theEckletonian.

　　"Go away, go away," repeated the man.

　　Conversation on these lines could never be really attractive. Fennturned to go. As he closed the door and began to feel his way alongthe dark passage, he heard the key turn in the lock behind him. Theman could not, he felt, have been very badly hurt if he were able toget across the room so quickly. The thought relieved him somewhat.

　　Nobody likes to have the maiming even of the most complete stranger onhis mind. The sensation of relief lasted possibly three seconds. Thenit flashed upon him that in the excitement of the late interview hehad forgotten his cap. That damaging piece of evidence lay on thetable in the sitting-room, and between him and it was a locked door.

　　He groped his way back, and knocked. No sound came from the room.

　　"I say," he cried, "you might let me have my cap. I left it on thetable."No reply.

　　Fenn half thought of making a violent assault on the door. Herefrained on reflecting that it would be useless. If he could break itopen--which, in all probability, he could not--there would be troublesuch as he had never come across in his life. He was not sure it wouldnot be an offence for which he would be rendered liable to fine orimprisonment. At any rate, it would mean the certain detection of hisvisit to the town. So he gave the thing up, resolving to return on themorrow and reopen negotiations. For the present, what he had to do wasto get safely back to his house. He had lost his watch, his cap withhis name in it was in the hands of an evil old man who evidently borehim a grudge, and he had to run the gauntlet of three house-mastersand get to bed _via_ a study-window. Few people, even after thedullest of plays, have returned from the theatre so disgusted witheverything as did Fenn. Reviewing the situation as he ran with long,easy strides over the road that led to Kay's, he found it devoid ofany kind of comfort. Unless his mission in quest of the cap shouldprove successful, he was in a tight place.

　　It is just as well that the gift of second sight is accorded to butfew. If Fenn could have known at this point that his adventures wereonly beginning, that what had taken place already was but as theoverture to a drama, it is possible that he would have thrown up thesponge for good and all, entered Kay's by way of the front door--afterknocking up the entire household--and remarked, in answer to hishouse-master's excited questions, "Enough! Enough! I am a victim ofFate, a Toad beneath the Harrow. Sack me tomorrow, if you like, butfor goodness' sake let me get quietly to bed now."As it was, not being able to "peep with security into futurity," heimagined that the worst was over.

　　He began to revise this opinion immediately on turning in at Kay'sgate. He had hardly got half-way down the drive when the front dooropened and two indistinct figures came down the steps. As they did sohis foot slipped off the grass border on which he was running todeaden the noise of his steps, and grated sharply on the gravel.

　　"What's that?" said a voice. The speaker was Mr Kay.

　　"What's what?" replied a second voice which he recognised as MrMulholland's.

　　"Didn't you hear a noise?""'I heard the water lapping on the crag,'" replied Mr Mulholland,poetically.

　　"It was over there," persisted Mr Kay. "I am certain I heardsomething--positively certain, Mulholland. And after that burglary atthe school house--"He began to move towards the spot where Fenn lay crouching behind abush. Mr Mulholland followed, mildly amused. They were a dozen yardsaway when Fenn, debating in his mind whether it would not bebetter--as it would certainly be more dignified--for him to rise anddeliver himself up to justice instead of waiting to be discoveredwallowing in the damp grass behind a laurel bush, was aware ofsomething soft and furry pressing against his knuckles. A soft purringsound reached his ears.

　　He knew at once who it was--Thomas Edward, the matron's cat, ever astaunch friend of his. Many a time had they taken tea together in hisstudy in happier days. The friendly animal had sought him out in hishiding-place, and was evidently trying to intimate that the best thingthey could do now would be to make a regular night of it.

　　Fenn, as I have said, liked and respected Thomas. In ordinarycircumstances he would not have spoken an unfriendly word to him. Butthings were desperate now, and needed remedies to match.

　　Very softly he passed his hand down the delighted animal's back untilhe reached his tail. Then, stifling with an effort all the finerfeelings which should have made such an act impossible, headministered so vigorous a tweak to that appendage that Thomas, withone frenzied yowl, sprang through the bush past the two masters andvanished at full speed into the opposite hedge.

　　"My goodness!" said Mr Kay, starting back.

　　It was a further shock to Fenn to find how close he was to the laurel.

　　"'Goodness me,Why, what was that?

　　Silent be,It was the cat,'"chanted Mr Mulholland, who was in poetical vein after the theatre.

　　"It was a cat!" gasped Mr Kay.

　　"So I am disposed to imagine. What lungs! We shall be having theR.S.P.C.A. down on us if we aren't careful. They must have heard thatnoise at the headquarters of the Society, wherever they are. Well, ifyour zeal for big game hunting is satisfied, and you don't propose tofollow the vocalist through that hedge, I think I will be off. Goodnight. Good piece, wasn't it?""Excellent. Good night, Mulholland.""By the way, I wonder if the man who wrote it is a relation of ourFenn. It may be his brother--I believe he writes. You probably rememberhim when he was here. He was before my time. Talking of Fenn, how doyou find the new arrangement answer? Is Kennedy an improvement?""Kennedy," said Mr Kay, "is a well-meaning boy, I think. Quitewell-meaning. But he lacks ability, in my opinion. I have had to speakto him on several occasions on account of disturbances amongst thejuniors. Once I found two boys actually fighting in the juniordayroom. I was very much annoyed about it.""And where was Kennedy while this was going on? Was he holding thewatch?""The watch?" said Mr Kay, in a puzzled tone of voice. "Kennedy wasover at the gymnasium when it occurred.""Then it was hardly his fault that the fight took place.""My dear Mulholland, if the head of a house is efficient, fightsshould be impossible. Even when he is not present, his influence, hisprestige, so to speak, should be sufficient to restrain the boys underhim."Mr Mulholland whistled softly.

　　"So that's your idea of what the head of your house should be like, isit? Well, I know of one fellow who would have been just your man.

　　Unfortunately, he is never likely to come to school at Eckleton.""Indeed?" said Mr Kay, with interest. "Who is that? Where did you meethim? What school is he at?""I never said I had met him. I only go by what I have heard of him.

　　And as far as I know, he is not at any school. He was a gentleman ofthe name of Napoleon Bonaparte. He might just have been equal to thearduous duties which devolve upon the head of your house. Goodnight."And Fenn heard his footsteps crunch the gravel as he walked away. Aminute later the front door shut, and there was a rattle. Mr Kay hadput the chain up and retired for the night.

　　Fenn lay where he was for a short while longer. Then he rose, feelingvery stiff and wet, and crept into one of the summer-houses whichstood in Mr Kay's garden. Here he sat for an hour and a half, at theend of which time, thinking that Mr Kay must be asleep, he started outto climb into the house.

　　His study was on the first floor. A high garden-seat stood directlybeneath the window and acted as a convenient ladder. It was easy toget from this on to the window-ledge. Once there he could open thewindow, and the rest would be plain sailing.

　　Unhappily, there was one flaw in his scheme. He had conceived thatscheme in the expectation that the window would be as he had left it.

　　But it was not.

　　During his absence somebody had shot the bolt. And, try his hardest,he could not move the sash an inch.