The Launching of Roger Brook

'Yes, I'm sure they could do that, and in many ways I'd like it, Sir. But where would it lead in the event of my doing well?'

'To preferment and some well-paid sinecure in which you could follow your own inclinations—if you are prepared to take orders. To do so is still regarded as a pre-requisite to becoming a Fellow. You could then remain on as one if you wished or, in due course, accept a warm living or the headmastership of a school, since a great number of the best of these are within the gift of the Colleges.'

'With due respect to your cloth. Sir, I feel no inclination to enter the Church. But I should welcome the chance of pursuing my studies in History, and I was under the impression that a B.A. could prove a valuable asset in securing profitable employment.'

Old Toby grunted. 'Then dismiss the thought, Brook. As I have said, we live in an age of war, and learning is at a discount A degree in itself could open no better prospect to you than tutor to some nobleman's son at forty pounds a year, or, at best, an appointment as usher in a school. As for such studies as you have in mind I fear you would be grievously disappointed. During the past century both the Universities have fallen into a sad decline and only a few of the more conscientious Fellows bring themselves to lecture now and then. Such is the sloth that has gripped our seats of learning for many decades that no Regius Professor of Modern History at Cambridge delivered a lecture between 1725 and 1773, and the last holder of that Chair died from a fall from his horse while riding home drunk to his Vicarage at Over. Conditions at Oxford are as bad, or worse, and the students at both are of two kinds only. Those who are prepared to take orders to the end of later obtaining a benefice, and young rake-hells with time to waste, who are sent up from family tradition by rich parents.'

'That rules out Oxford or Cambridge for me, then,' Roger sighed. 'I've no particular wish to go to the Colonies, but it looks as if that is all that remains to me. In the new lands no stigma attaches to a gentle­man who engages in trade, and I might, perhaps, become a rich merchant.'

Old Toby nodded. 'That certainly is a possibility; although to engage in commerce successfully one requires capital. You might, however, obtain a post with the India Company or, if you prefer Canada, seek employment with that which controls the vast territories round Hudson's Bay. With either I doubt your sword being likely to rest for long in its scabbard. But neither will it if you remain at home for that matter. In the event of another war against the French every man will be needed, and you would hardly be able to avoid service with the Army, however much you may now dislike the idea.'

'You seem very confident that there will be another war, Sir.'

'I am, alas! After the French and ourselves have had a few years to lick our wounds I regard it as inevitable. For seven hundred years they have been our hereditary enemies, yet neither of us have succeeded in destroying the other. With the constant expansion of our interests a final decision becomes more imperative with every year that passes. The loss of our oldest colonies in the Americas has been more than compensated for in the last few decades by our gains in Canada and India and the great new lands that Captain Cook has opened up to us by his voyages in the southern seas. Britain has now become an Imperial Power unrivalled since the days of Rome; but our hold upon these great possessions is still fragile in the extreme. The French, too, need 'living room' and their population is twice as large as ours. The far-flung bases over which new fly the flag of the Union gives us a strangle­hold upon their commerce. They know that they must break that hold or lose the leadership of Europe and degenerate into a second-class Power, where poverty will take the place of affluence. Overseas the game has gone to us, but only a narrow strip of water divides us from King Louis's numerous and well-armed legions. Believe me, Brook, before ten years are gone the French will make another great effort to overwhelm us and obtain the Empire of the World. For them 'tis either that or stagnation, bankruptcy and death.'

For a moment there was silence in the quiet room, then OldToby glanced at the clock on the mantel, and said:

'Good gracious me! I had no idea 'twas so late. I fear I have detained you overlong. Well, speak with your mother as to your future when a suitable opportunity arises, and let me know any fresh thoughts you may have upon it on your return next term. A happy holiday to you.'

'Thank you, Sir; the same to you.' Roger stood up and added with a smile: 'And permit me to thank you for your interest in me.' Then he made a formal bow and left the room.

As he walked back along the corridor, where earlier that evening he had had his affray with Gunston, he realised that the time had come when he ought to face up to this business of choosing a career for himself. For years the nightmare of being forced into the Navy against his will had haunted him, yet he had not dared to think of any other future. Then, as with the passing of time the shadow had lifted, he had gradually begun to savour the joy of escape without formulating any alternative. But now Old Toby had precipitated matters, and it seemed a much more knotty problem than he had imagined would be the case.

He Was an only child, but, even so, his inheritance would amount to no more than a moderate-sized house with a few acres of garden and meadows and something less than a thousand a year; and in the meantime he must find some way to support himself honourably in the quality of gentleman to which he was bred. The Church would give him leisure to read and the service of the Crown would ensure him travel; and he wanted both, but was most strongly averse to entering either; yet, without money of his own every other prospect seemed barred to him. It was indeed a poser.

On opening the door of the Junior Common room, a burst of riotous sound almost deafened him. Scores of his companions were ragging together as they cleared out their lockers. The thought that he would be at Sherborne for another two years, so there was realty ages of time before he would have to burn his boats, drifted through his mind; then he was struck sharply on the cheek with a pea blown from a pea-shooter. Forgetting all else, with a high-spirited yell he rushed upon his attacker.

Next morning he was up and dressed soon after four. For all but the haute monde of London and such fashionable spas as Bath, who could literally afford to burn money in the constant consumption of many candles, the sun governed most people's lives in those days, and 'early to bed and early to rise' was still the general rule; but, anxious to be on their homeward way the boys had risen of their own accord an hour earlier than usual.

The great courtyard of the school and the road outside it was now the scene of immense bustle and activity. Scores of grooms with led horses, some in smart liveries, others in plain home-spuns, jostled one another for place while seeking their young masters. The road for half a mile was blocked by a double line of private coaches, hired post-chaises, gigs, cabriolets and phaetons. While the drivers swore at their neighbours and strove to quieten their restive horses the boys ran amongst them, each seeking the familiar equipage that had been sent the day before, or overnight, to fetch him; and an army of servants struggled through the crowd bent under the weight of heavy corded boxes.

Entering the turmoil Roger raised himself on tiptoe, looking eagerly to left and right in search of Jim Button. As he did so he caught a glimpse of Droopy Ned, standing beside a splendid gilded coach with postilions, outriders and a great coat of arms emblazoned on its door.

Not a cap or gown was now to be seen, and the boys were all dressed in holiday attire, like little replicas of their fathers. Most wore good suits of broadcloth, riding-breeches and unornamented three-cornered hats, but the richer among them swaggered in brightly coloured coats of silk or satin, with embroidered waistcoats and lace ruffles at throat and wrists; Droopy Ned outshone them all.

He was wearing a long-skirted coat of yellow watered silk, the huge cuffs and pockets of which were braided with gold. The curls of a great white wig tumbled down between his narrow shoulder-blades and perched on the top of it was a tricorne hat edged with more gold lace and a thin ruching of feathers. From one hand he dangled a large lace handkerchief and with the other, while he directed the liveried footman in the stowage of his baggage, he leaned negligently on a five-foot long malacca cane topped with a huge opal.

Roger was just thinking how fine it must feel to be the Lord Edward Fitz-Deverel, now a man, rich beyond the dreams of avarice and just about to set off on the Grand Tour, when he caught the sound of r familiar voice.

'Hey, Master Rogerl Here I be! I thought ye was never a-coming.'

Turning, he pushed his way through the crush to an angle of the yard where Jim Button was waiting, holding the reins of a hired led horse for him.

With a laughing 'Good morning, Jim; all well at home?' Roger caught the reins of the led horse, thrust a foot into the stirrup and swung himself into the saddle.

As he reached it Jim leant over with a grin. 'Aye, all's well, Master Roger. And I've great news for 'e. The Captain's back. 'Twas only yester-e'en but y'r father's at last come home from the sea.'