When I had been washed, and my cuts and bruises1 salved, Mr. Sant took me in to dinner, having already sent a message to my uncle that I should be late. I was horribly stiff, with blubber lips, and knobs and swellings everywhere; yet I would not for the world have missed one pang3 which my jaws4 suffered in eating. For was not each twinge an earnest to me that I was redeemed5 in my own eyes? The penance6 was as gratifying as, I think, a Catholic’s must be after confession7 and absolution given.
Before we were well finished Uncle Jenico came in, a little flurried and apologetic over his intrusion. He had guessed pretty well the reason of my detention8, and his anxiety would not let him rest. His hands trembled as he adjusted his spectacles to look at me, and removed and wiped them, and put them on again for a second scrutiny9.
“So you have conquered?” he said, “My poor boy; my poor, dear boy! Why I had no idea boxing punished so. You should not have minded what they said about me, Richard—a tough old rascal10, and ready to take it all in the day’s luck.”
“I don’t think Richard will agree with you, sir,” said Mr. Sant. “He has won his spurs, and a convert, I hope. He has fought like a gentleman and a Christian11—by George, sir, it was poor Broughton and the Norwich butcher over again—and you, I am sure, are as proud of him as I am.”
“Eh?” said my uncle, half laughing and half crying; and then falling suddenly grave. “If it’s to inculcate respect—the stitch in time, you know—certainly. But I can’t help wondering, if this is the victor, what is the state of the vanquished12?”
“A state of grace, I hope,” said the clergyman, smiling. “But it’s a very proper reflection, sir, and one which, I am sure, Richard will take to heart.”
The reminder13, nevertheless, was not out of place. It is well at the feast of triumph to remember who pays the cost. I had been self-glorifying a little overmuch; and here, of a sudden, was the picture before me of my beaten enemy slinking away to hide his battered14 face, at the very moment that I was crowing to everybody to come and look at mine. Uncle Jenico was the true gentleman among us all; and it was he who had been insulted.
I soon mended of my knocks, and the very next day was ruffling16 it to my lessons with a new self-confidence that made nothing of possessing the world. Dunberry was no longer a Siberia to me, but a conquered country full of breezy possibilities. I should have welcomed the prospect17 of an attack; but no one interfered18 with me. On the contrary, awed20 and covert21 glances greeted me on my way past the school. I dropped a book. An obsequious22 little courtier scurried23 to pick it up for me. The news of the fight had got abroad, it was evident, and Harry24 was no longer the cock of the walk. From this moment, with other than the youth of Dunberry, I am afraid, my position was secured.
I hope I took no base advantage of the knowledge; yet I won’t say but I might have if Mr. Sant had not been at my back to prevent it.
“Don’t forget you fought for a principle,” he would remind me. “It’s no manner of Christian use to turn out a bully25 that you may usurp26 his place.”
To prove to me that boxing was not the whole duty of a gentleman, and to school me from presuming on any idea of indulgence because of my victory, he rather put the screw on in my education, and for a time was something of a martinet27 on questions of study and discipline. I was hurt, and a little bit rebellious28 at first; but soon, having a fair reason of my own, came to recognize his consistency29.
During this time, and for some weeks after the fight, I saw next to nothing of Harry Harrier. He kept out of my way, sulking and grieving, though he attended school—with phenomenal punctuality, too, I believe—regularly. His father, I heard from old Jacob, had been very savage30 over his beating, and had dressed him well for it. I was furious when I was told, and wanted Mr. Sant to complain to the Squire31; but, before he could do so, something happened which made any complaint futile32. A new steward33, a Draco of a man, was appointed to the Court, and one day, shortly after his arrival, lo and behold34! there was the gamekeeper handcuffed, and being carried off to Ipswich gaol36 in a tax-cart by the officers of the law. It had been discovered that for years he had been in collusion with a gang of poachers, and in the end he had been watched, and caught in flagranti delicto. His wife followed him to the county town, and devoted37 most of her savings38, poor woman, to his defence, but without avail. He was convicted and transported, and I may as well say at once that that was the end of him so far as his family was concerned, for he never turned up again. While the trial was pending39, Harry—it is not, under all the circumstances, to be wondered at—gave the schoolhouse a wide berth40; but, after his father had been sentenced and their home broken up, to the surprise of every one he put in an appearance there again, coming dogged and punctual to a task which must have grown nothing less than a perpetual ordeal41 to him. We did not, in truth, know the strength of will of the desperate humbled42 little spirit—not any of us, that is to say, but Mr. Sant. He had gauged43 it, I am sure; and, having set his heart on the boy’s reclamation44, was watching with an anxious interest the development of the odd little drama which he had helped to engineer. He visited, of course, in virtue45 of his office, the gamekeeper’s unhappy wife, who had been forced to betake herself to a mean little tenement46 in the village, where she eked47 out the small means remaining to her by washing for the rectory; and though, as yet, the son would hardly notice or be civil to him, the mother did not fail to acquaint him, with many fond tears, of her poor, wild little fellow’s real love and resolution, and of the courage which was determining him to train himself to take the place of the breadwinner they had lost. All of which, I knew, made Mr. Sant the more eager to have the lad recognize him for a friend; only pride stood in the way. For, the truth is, poor Harry’s prestige was gone down to zero. Always owing in some part to the local reputation of his father for a bully and rowdy, the removal of that gentleman had finished what my victory had begun. And now it was the case of the sick lion. The cowardly little jackals who had formerly48 cringed to him, egged on by their more cowardly elders taunted49 him with his disgrace. If he retaliated50, they overwhelmed him with numbers, or ran, squealing52 injured righteousness, to appeal against him to their parents. His heart, swelling2 in his plucky53 little breast, must often have had a business of it not to let loose the tears; but he had an indomitable soul, and only time and tact54 could find the way into it.
One day Mr. Sant and I, when walking together, came unnoticed upon the rear of such a scene. The victim moved on in front, his head hanging a little, though he would not force his pace an inch to accommodate his tormentors, who followed behind, at a safe distance, hooting55 and jeering56 at him.
“OO stole the pawtridges! When did ’ee last ’ear from the ’ulks! Why don’t ’ee git your mawther to wash your dirty linen57, ’ar-ree?” and such-like insults they bawled58.
I burned with indignation, and was running to retaliate51 on my enemy by helping59 him as he had once helped me, when Mr. Sant seized me with a determined60 hand, and bent61 to whisper in my ear—
“He will hate you, if you do. Leave him to fight his own battles.”
As he spoke62 the little wretches63 let fly a shower of small missiles, and a stone struck the boy smartly on the neck. He leapt about at once, and came rushing back with clenched64 fists and a blazing face. The mob dispersed65 before his onset66; but he cut off one panic-stricken unit of it, and smote67 the lubberly coward with a thorny68 crash into the hedge. His eyes looked red, his breast was heaving stormily; he would have done some evil, I think, had not Mr. Sant run and put himself between. Then he backed away, without a word; but his cheeks were quite white now, and the wings of his nostrils69 going like a little winded horse’s.
Consternation70 held the scattered71 enemy. They stood each where he had been halted by the unexpected vision of their rector and me. The assaulted one, sitting on spikes72, stuffed his face into his elbow and boo-hoo’d from stentorian73 lungs. Mr. Sant smiled with rather an ugly look.
“Blubber away, Derrick,” he said. “You’ve been well served for a dirty act.” Then he scowled74 abroad. “Are you English boys, to kick a downed one! Not one of you, cowards, but if he passed this Harrier alone would hug his fists in his pockets! It is no shame of his, but yours. To bait him ten to one—O! what fine courageous75 fellows! But I’ll have no more of it; d’ye hear? I’ll have no more of it!”
He stamped, in a little access of passion, and again turned sharply on the fallen.
“Get up!” he said.
“It was you threw the stone,” said Mr. Sant. “I saw you. Very well, then, it’s got to be one of two things: fight, or put your tail between your legs and run. Quick now! Which is it to be?”
Derrick did not move, but raised his wail77 to a pitch so artificially dismal78 that I had to laugh.
“Ah!” exclaimed Mr. Sant, still very grim for his part, and snapped himself round. “He means fight, Harrier.”
If he did, the battle he contemplated79 was a Battle of the Spurs. Clapping his hand to the thorns in him, and too frightened now to remember to cry, he took to his heels and, turning a corner, was out of sight in a moment. His answer to the resolution claimed for him was so ludicrous that even his little abettors were set off chuckling80.
I was looking across at Harry, and saw his face, too, relax and lighten. Drawn81 by its expression, I walked up to him, with my hand held out.
“Why won’t you, Harry?” I said.
He stared at me, but made no response.
“We knew you could look after yourself,” I went on, “and—and I wasn’t going to interfere19; at least—I mean—why won’t you let us stand up for one another, Harry?” I ended, with a burst and a blush.
His face, too, was very red again, and I could see his lips were trembling. Pride and gratitude82 were fighting within him for mastery; but the former—still too hot with recent suffering to surrender—remained the more stubborn of the two. While my hand was yet held out, he turned his back on me, on us all, and walked off erect83.
I was bitterly hurt and chagrined84. I felt that I had done the handsome thing by a boor85, and had been meetly rebuffed for my condescension86. I came back to Mr. Sant, swelling with indignation. He understood at a glance.
“Give him time, Dick,” he said quietly; “give him time.”
He did not answer, which was perhaps wise; and we continued our walk. But thenceforth my heart was darkened to my unchivalrous foe88, and when we passed in the street I ignored him.
My studied indifference89 had not, however, the effect of making him avoid me. On the contrary, he seemed rather to resume his earlier practice, going out of his way to get in mine, and strutting90 by whistling to show his unconsciousness of my neighbourhood. Yet all the time, I knew, he was never more in need of a friend. Mr. Sant’s protest, followed by a public rebuke91 in the school, had put an end to the active bullying92; but, to compensate93 themselves for this deprivation94, his companions had, by tacit agreement, sent poor Harry to perpetual Coventry. He was disclaimed95 and excluded from all games and conversation; isolated96 in the midst of the others’ merriment. What this meant to the bright fallen little spirit only Lucifer himself, perhaps, could say; and only Lucifer himself, perhaps, so endure with unlowered crest97 while the iron ate into his soul. But, in justice to myself, I could make no further overtures98 where my every advance was wilfully99 misunderstood.
So the year went its course without any reconciliation100 between us; and early in November fell a hard frost, with snow that seemed disposed to stop. Awaking one morning, we saw the whole land locked in white under a stiff leaden canopy101, as if sea and sky had changed places. The desolation of this remote coast winter-bound it is impossible to describe. We seemed as cut off from the world as Esquimaux; and Uncle Jenico, who had never conceived such a situation, stood aghast before the prospect of a beach ankle-deep in snow. So we found it. The golden sand was all replaced by dazzling silver, into which the surf, so spotless in summer, thrust tongues of a bilious102 yellow. The sea, from being sportive with weak stomachs, looked sick unto death itself; and the wind in one’s teeth was like a file sharpening a saw. And all this lifelessness cemented itself day by day, until it seemed that we could never emerge again from the depths of winter into which we had fallen.
One afternoon I was loitering very dismal, and quite alone as I thought, near the foot of Dunberry Gap, when a snowball took me full on the back of the head and knocked my cap off. I was stooping to pick it up, when another came splosh in my face, blinding, and half suffocating103 me. I staggered to my feet, gasping104, only to find myself the butt105 of a couple of snow forts, between whose fires I had unconsciously strayed. A row of little heads was sprung up on either side, and I was being well pounded before I could collect my wits.
I must premise106 that at this time my empire was much fallen from its former greatness. Never having confirmed it by a second achievement, it had gradually lost the best of its credit, and, though I was still respected by the unit, there was a psychologic point in the association of units beyond which my reputation was coming to be held cheap. I was learning, in fact, the universal truth that to rest on one’s laurels107 is to resume them, in case of emergency, in a lamentably108 squashed condition.
Now, with half the breath knocked out of my body and my arm protecting my face, I tried to struggle out of the line of fire, only to find the opposing forces basely combining to pelt109 me into helplessness. I made some show of retaliating110; but what was one against twenty? In the midst, I looked up the Gap, my one way of retreat, and there, standing111 halfway112 down, watching the fray113, was Harry Harrier. I was smarting all over, with rills of melted snow running down my neck, and still the bombardment took me without mercy.
“Harry!” I cried. “Come and help me!”
The appeal did at a stroke what months of propitiation would have missed. It put him right with himself once more. Like a young deer he came leaping down, stooping and gathering114 ammunition115 as he approached. The shower ceased on the instant; the craven enemy retreated pell-mell to its double lines of shelter.
“Are you ready, sir?” said Harry, excitedly. “Git your wind and coom on. We’ll drive en out of one o’ them places, and take cover there ourselves.”
He was eagerly gathering and piling the snow as he spoke. In a minute I was myself again, and burning for reprisals116. Each of us well armed, we charged upon the left-hand position, which seemed the more accessible of the two, and carried it by storm against a faint show of resistance. The garrison117 shot out and fled, encountering a volley from the opposing force, while we peppered it in the rear. Our victory was complete. As we sank back, breathed but glowing, I looked Harry silently in the face and held out my hand for the last time. He took it in his own, hanging his silly head; but the nip he gave it felt like a winch’s.
“That’s all right, then,” said I. “It’s pax between us, ain’t it, you old fool?”
He nodded. A long silence fell between us, and I began to whistle. Suddenly he looked up shyly, but his eyes were quick with curiosity.
“I say,” he said, “what’s a parryshoot?”
The problem had evidently haunted him ever since I had told him that my uncle had fallen from one.
“Well, what do you think?” says I.
“I dunno,” he answered carelessly. “Thought, maybe, ’twas one o’ them things that shoots the malt refuge out of brewhouses.”
“It’s an umbrella,” I said; “a thing that you jump into the air with off a cliff, and come down without hurting yourself.”
“Mighty!” he cried, all excitement. “Is it reelly? Let’s make one—and try it first on that Derrick,” he added, with commendable119 foresight120.
My heart crowed at the idea. We discussed it for many minutes. In the midst we heard a sound of distant jeering, and cautiously raised our heads above the snow rampart. The whole body of our enemies was in full retreat, and already nearing the top of the Gap. We were left alone, sole inseparable masters of the field. It was the happiest omen15 of what was to be.
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1
bruises
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| n.瘀伤，伤痕，擦伤( bruise的名词复数 ) | |
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swelling
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| n.肿胀 | |
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pang
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| n.剧痛，悲痛，苦闷 | |
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4
jaws
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| n.口部；嘴 | |
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5
redeemed
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| adj. 可赎回的，可救赎的 动词redeem的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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6
penance
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| n.（赎罪的）惩罪 | |
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confession
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| n.自白，供认，承认 | |
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8
detention
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| n.滞留，停留；拘留，扣留；(教育)留下 | |
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scrutiny
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| n.详细检查，仔细观察 | |
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rascal
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| n.流氓；不诚实的人 | |
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Christian
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| adj.基督教徒的；n.基督教徒 | |
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12
vanquished
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| v.征服( vanquish的过去式和过去分词 )；战胜；克服；抑制 | |
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reminder
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| n.提醒物，纪念品；暗示，提示 | |
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battered
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| adj.磨损的；v.连续猛击；磨损 | |
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15
omen
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| n.征兆，预兆；vt.预示 | |
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ruffling
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| 弄皱( ruffle的现在分词 )； 弄乱； 激怒； 扰乱 | |
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17
prospect
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| n.前景，前途；景色，视野 | |
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18
interfered
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| v.干预( interfere的过去式和过去分词 )；调停；妨碍；干涉 | |
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interfere
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| v.(in)干涉，干预；(with)妨碍，打扰 | |
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20
awed
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| adj.充满敬畏的，表示敬畏的v.使敬畏，使惊惧( awe的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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21
covert
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| adj.隐藏的；暗地里的 | |
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obsequious
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| adj.谄媚的，奉承的，顺从的 | |
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scurried
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| v.急匆匆地走( scurry的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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harry
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| vt.掠夺，蹂躏，使苦恼 | |
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bully
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| n.恃强欺弱者，小流氓；vt.威胁，欺侮 | |
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usurp
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| vt.篡夺，霸占；vi.篡位 | |
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martinet
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| n.要求严格服从纪律的人 | |
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rebellious
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| adj.造反的，反抗的，难控制的 | |
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consistency
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| n.一贯性，前后一致，稳定性；(液体的)浓度 | |
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savage
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| adj.野蛮的；凶恶的，残暴的；n.未开化的人 | |
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squire
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| n.护卫, 侍从, 乡绅 | |
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futile
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| adj.无效的，无用的，无希望的 | |
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steward
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| n.乘务员，服务员；看管人；膳食管理员 | |
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34
behold
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| v.看，注视，看到 | |
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cuff
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| n.袖口；手铐；护腕；vt.用手铐铐；上袖口 | |
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gaol
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| n.(jail)监狱；(不加冠词)监禁；vt.使…坐牢 | |
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devoted
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| adj.忠诚的，忠实的，热心的，献身于...的 | |
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savings
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| n.存款，储蓄 | |
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pending
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| prep.直到，等待…期间；adj.待定的；迫近的 | |
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berth
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| n.卧铺，停泊地，锚位；v.使停泊 | |
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ordeal
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| n.苦难经历，（尤指对品格、耐力的）严峻考验 | |
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42
humbled
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| adj. 卑下的，谦逊的，粗陋的 vt. 使 ... 卑下，贬低 | |
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43
gauged
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| adj.校准的；标准的；量规的；量计的v.（用仪器）测量( gauge的过去式和过去分词 )；估计；计量；划分 | |
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44
reclamation
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| n.开垦；改造；（废料等的）回收 | |
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45
virtue
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| n.德行，美德；贞操；优点；功效，效力 | |
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46
tenement
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| n.公寓；房屋 | |
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47
eked
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| v.（靠节省用量）使…的供应持久( eke的过去式和过去分词 )；节约使用；竭力维持生计；勉强度日 | |
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48
formerly
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| adv.从前，以前 | |
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49
taunted
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| 嘲讽( taunt的过去式和过去分词 )； 嘲弄； 辱骂； 奚落 | |
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50
retaliated
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| v.报复，反击( retaliate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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51
retaliate
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| v.报复，反击 | |
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52
squealing
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| v.长声尖叫，用长而尖锐的声音说( squeal的现在分词 ) | |
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53
plucky
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| adj.勇敢的 | |
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54
tact
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| n.机敏，圆滑，得体 | |
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55
hooting
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| （使）作汽笛声响，作汽车喇叭声( hoot的现在分词 )； 倒好儿； 倒彩 | |
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56
jeering
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| adj.嘲弄的，揶揄的v.嘲笑( jeer的现在分词 ) | |
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57
linen
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| n.亚麻布，亚麻线，亚麻制品；adj.亚麻布制的，亚麻的 | |
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58
bawled
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| v.大叫，大喊( bawl的过去式和过去分词 )；放声大哭；大声叫出；叫卖（货物） | |
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59
helping
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| n.食物的一份&adj.帮助人的，辅助的 | |
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60
determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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61
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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wretches
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| n.不幸的人( wretch的名词复数 )；可怜的人；恶棍；坏蛋 | |
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clenched
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| v.紧握，抓紧，咬紧( clench的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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dispersed
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| adj. 被驱散的, 被分散的, 散布的 | |
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onset
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| n.进攻，袭击，开始，突然开始 | |
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smote
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| v.猛打，重击，打击( smite的过去式 ) | |
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thorny
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| adj.多刺的，棘手的 | |
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nostrils
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| 鼻孔( nostril的名词复数 ) | |
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consternation
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| n.大为吃惊，惊骇 | |
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scattered
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| adj.分散的，稀疏的；散步的；疏疏落落的 | |
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72
spikes
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| n.穗( spike的名词复数 )；跑鞋；（防滑）鞋钉；尖状物v.加烈酒于( spike的第三人称单数 )；偷偷地给某人的饮料加入（更多）酒精（ 或药物）；把尖状物钉入；打乱某人的计划 | |
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stentorian
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| adj.大声的，响亮的 | |
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scowled
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| 怒视，生气地皱眉( scowl的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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courageous
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| adj.勇敢的，有胆量的 | |
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peremptory
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| adj.紧急的，专横的，断然的 | |
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wail
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| vt./vi.大声哀号，恸哭；呼啸，尖啸 | |
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dismal
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| adj.阴沉的，凄凉的，令人忧郁的，差劲的 | |
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contemplated
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| adj. 预期的 动词contemplate的过去分词形式 | |
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chuckling
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| 轻声地笑( chuckle的现在分词 ) | |
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81
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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gratitude
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| adj.感激，感谢 | |
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83
erect
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| n./v.树立，建立，使竖立；adj.直立的，垂直的 | |
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chagrined
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| adj.懊恼的，苦恼的v.使懊恼，使懊丧，使悔恨( chagrin的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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85
boor
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| n.举止粗野的人；乡下佬 | |
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condescension
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| n.自以为高人一等，贬低(别人) | |
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meddle
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| v.干预，干涉，插手 | |
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foe
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| n.敌人，仇敌 | |
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indifference
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| n.不感兴趣，不关心，冷淡，不在乎 | |
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strutting
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| 加固，支撑物 | |
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rebuke
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| v.指责，非难，斥责 [反]praise | |
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bullying
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| v.恐吓，威逼( bully的现在分词 )；豪；跋扈 | |
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compensate
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| vt.补偿，赔偿；酬报 vi.弥补；补偿；抵消 | |
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deprivation
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| n.匮乏；丧失；夺去，贫困 | |
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disclaimed
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| v.否认( disclaim的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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isolated
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| adj.与世隔绝的 | |
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crest
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| n.顶点；饰章；羽冠；vt.达到顶点；vi.形成浪尖 | |
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overtures
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| n.主动的表示，提议；（向某人做出的）友好表示、姿态或提议( overture的名词复数 )；（歌剧、芭蕾舞、音乐剧等的）序曲，前奏曲 | |
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wilfully
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| adv.任性固执地；蓄意地 | |
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100
reconciliation
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| n.和解，和谐，一致 | |
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101
canopy
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| n.天篷，遮篷 | |
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102
bilious
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| adj.胆汁过多的；易怒的 | |
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103
suffocating
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| a.使人窒息的 | |
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104
gasping
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| adj. 气喘的, 痉挛的 动词gasp的现在分词 | |
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105
butt
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| n.笑柄；烟蒂；枪托；臀部；v.用头撞或顶 | |
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106
premise
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| n.前提；v.提论，预述 | |
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107
laurels
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| n.桂冠，荣誉 | |
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108
lamentably
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| adv.哀伤地，拙劣地 | |
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109
pelt
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| v.投掷，剥皮，抨击，开火 | |
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retaliating
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| v.报复，反击( retaliate的现在分词 ) | |
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111
standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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112
halfway
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| adj.中途的，不彻底的，部分的；adv.半路地，在中途，在半途 | |
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113
fray
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| v.争吵；打斗；磨损，磨破；n.吵架；打斗 | |
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114
gathering
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| n.集会，聚会，聚集 | |
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115
ammunition
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| n.军火，弹药 | |
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116
reprisals
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| n.报复（行为）( reprisal的名词复数 ) | |
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117
garrison
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| n.卫戍部队；驻地，卫戍区；vt.派(兵)驻防 | |
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118
brewery
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| n.啤酒厂 | |
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119
commendable
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| adj.值得称赞的 | |
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120
foresight
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| n.先见之明，深谋远虑 | |
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