The Launching of Roger Brook

Old Toby had dispensed with all formality. He was a fat, elderly man, with a round face, sharp nose and rather fine green eyes. The desk behind which he sat was covered with a disorderly mass of parchments, his ill-curled grey wig reposed on a wig-stand beside his chair, the double lappets of his white clerical collar were undone and his rusty black gown was stained with spilt snuff.

'Ah, 'tis you, Brook,' he said. 'Come in and sit down. Take that armchair and make yourself comfortable.'

As Roger obeyed, Old Toby scratched his shaven pate and went on with a smile: 'Now, why did I send for you? For the life of me I can't remember, but 'twill come back in a minute; that is, if you don't grudge me the time from your packing for a little conversation.'

'Of course not. Sir,' Roger replied politely, marvelling, not for the first time, that his House Master could be so affable when in the seclusion of his own room. 'I've naught left to do but cord my boxes to-morrow morning.'

'Have you far to go?'

'Only some forty odd miles, Sir. I live at Lymington, on the Solent.'

'Ah, yes. That is something of a cross-country journey, though, and the coaches would serve you ill. You've bespoken a post-chaise, no doubt?'

'No, Sir, I prefer to ride. Jim Button, our groom, will have arranged a change of horses for us on his way over to-day, and my baggage will go by carrier.'

'That should be pleasant if the weather is clement, as it has been these few days past. You'll take the turnpike road to Poole and so on through Christchurch, I suppose?'

Roger shook his head. 'We go by way of Blandford, and then through the New Forest. The tracks are quite passable at this time of year, and the forest glades are wondrous beautiful.'

'You're not afraid of footpads then,' Old Toby smiled. ' 'Tis common knowledge that the forest is rarely free of such dangerous gentry.'

'I've never met any, Sir. But if we do we'll hope to give a good account of ourselves. Jim always ports his blunderbuss and he'll bring me my brace of pistols.'

'You would stand and fight, then?'

'Why not, Sir?' Roger's dark eyes gleamed with excitement at the thought. 'I can shoot the pip out of an ace at fifteen paces, but I've had no opportunity to try my pistols on a human target, yet. I'd like the chance.'

Old Toby chuckled. 'You young spitfire! Our Master-at-Arms tells me, too, that you are becoming quite a dangerous antagonist with the foils. But this recalls to me the matter about which I wished to talk. Does the interest you display in weapons incline you to the profession of Arms?'

Roger hesitated only a second, then he decided that Old Toby would not resent it if he was absolutely frank. 'To be honest, Sir, there is nothing that I would hate more than, going into the Navy or Army. You see, I know 'tis very wrong of me, but I just can't bear to be ordered about. I don't mean that I resent being told what to do by people I respect, like yourself. But some of the other Masters—well, they often make rules to suit their own convenience without a thought as to how they will affect us boys. That's the privilege of their position, of course, and one accepts it as philosophically as one can—as long as one remains at school. But I think anyone a fool who, on leaving, deliberately saddles himself with a new lot of masters for the rest of his life.'

It was an exceptionally strong statement from a boy not yet sixteen, in an age when the word of all parents was a law against which there was no appeal and rigid discipline was regarded as the essential backbone of the whole structure of society. But Old Toby's face showed no sign of disapproval at this declaration of heresy. He was thinking, ‘I was right to take an interest in young Brook, he has moral .as well as physical courage, and may go far.'

Still uncertain of the effect his rash words might have had, and wishing to strengthen his argument, Roger hurried on: 'Some of the older boys are worse than the masters, and they can't even claim to know best because they are grown up. They fag the younger fellows to do all sorts of stupid time-wasting things, often out of pure malice, and I see no reason why their natures should change when they become older. Take Gunston, Sir. I'm not complaining about him, but he is going into the Army. Just think of having a stupid oaf like that for one's senior officer, and being unable to question his decisions. Life would be positively unbearable.'

Old Toby took a pinch of snuff. 'Your views are unorthodox, Brook, and I would advise you to keep them to yourself. There is, I admit, something in what you say; yet discipline is a necessary ingredient in all our lives. Rectique Culius pectora roborant. To succeed in any career, you must school yourself to accept that fact. But tell me, why, if it is not your intention to adopt the profession of Arms, do you spend so many hours in the fencing school and shooting gallery each week?'

'To make myself proficient, Sir. Then when I am older no man will be able to gainsay me with impunity.'

'I had not realised that you were of such a quarrelsome dis­position.'

'I trust that I am not. I would not seek to force a quarrel on anyone. But a gentleman should know how to defend himself, and the ability to do so is the best means of assuring full independence of both spirit and action.'

'You must be aware that edicts inflicting severe penalties for duelling have been in force for many years now.'

Roger smiled and gave a slight shrug. 'Yet duels occur with some frequency just the same. Sir, and they are not forbidden in many places on the Continent. I hope to travel in due course.'

'Ah,' Old Toby shuffled with some papers. 'That brings us back to the reason for my asking you to wait upon me. You will be moving into Upper School next term, and I see that I have no note here as to the career which your parents desire you to follow. The time has come when I should be informed of it in order that I may allocate a certain portion of your time to the most appropriate studies.'

'Nothing definite has been settled yet, Sir. My father wanted me to go into the Navy, but there was some hitch. My mother..'

Roger flushed and broke off.

Old Toby gave him a shrewd look. 'Your mother was Lady Marie MacElfic before her marriage, was she not? And all her family are still irreconcilable Jacobites. Were you about to say that the King had refused entrance to the Navy to you on that account? It is common knowledge that the Government is still averse to appointing officers to either Service who have even remote connections with the Stuart cause.'

'Well, yes, Sir. That is what happened. As a Captain in the King's Navy, himself, my father did not think that there would be any difficulty about my appointment, but there was. He was furious, but said there was plenty of time and that before I was old enough to go to sea he would make their Lordships at the Admiralty see reason. That was soon after the American war broke out. Then when the French intervened in seventy-eight, his ship was ordered to sea, and, thanks be to providence he has not been home since; so has been unable to do aught about it.'

' Seventy-eight,' murmured Old Toby, 'Why, that is five years ago. And so, young man, you have been a stranger to parental discipline for all that time. If you have been allowed to have your head at home for so long 'tis little wonder that you have come to find the restraints of school irksome. Has your father made no mention of this matter in his letters?'

'Yes; from time to time. But he felt, I think, that little could be done by writing to their Lordships, and he has no personal influence at Court. He was counting on the patronage of Admiral Rodney when the Fleet got home, but the war dragged on for so long and his ship was one of those left on the West Indies Station after our great victory last year off the Isle of Saints.'

'And meanwhile, you have been growing up. It is not too late yet for you to enter the Navy, but it very soon will be. As you have no inclination for the life I take it that you are congratulating yourself already on having escaped your father forcing you to it.'

Roger grinned sheepishly. 'Even if he were ordered home to-morrow he has to get here; then 'twould take him months of lobbying finally to overcome the old objections, and once I'm sixteen I shall be safe. For me the late war has proved a miraculous preservation. The Army would have been bad enough, but to be a midshipman, boxed up in a ship for months, living on weevilly biscuits and kicked around by every Tom, Dick and Harry! It makes me shudder to think of it.'

'Qua fuit durum pati, meminisse dulce est, was Seneca's very wise remark on that, you will remember. But, have you made any plans of your own?'

'No, Sir, and I'd willingly be guided by you. In any event, as far as entering Upper School is concerned, I'm