relied on their ability to translate both authors at sight and without previous acquaintance. The popular notion that Virgil is hard rarely appeals to a member of a public school. There are two ways of translating Virgil, the conscientious and the other. He prefers the other.
On this particular night, therefore, work was ‘off’. Merevale was over at the Great Hall, taking preparation, and the Sixth-Form Merevalians had assembled in Charteris’s study to talk about things in general. It was after a pause of some moments, that had followed upon a lively discussion of the House’s prospects in the forthcoming final, that Charteris had spoken.
‘I shall go, Babe,’ said he.
‘Go where?’ asked Tony, from the depths of a deck-chair.
‘Babe knows.’
The Babe turned to the company and explained.
‘The lunatic’s going in for the strangers’ mile at some sports at Rutton next week. He’ll get booked for a cert. He can’t see that. I never saw such a man.’
‘Rally round,’ said Charteris, ‘and reason with me. I’ll listen. Tony, what do you think about it?’
Tony expressed his opinion tersely, and Charteris thanked him. Welch, who had been reading, now awoke to the fact that a discussion was in progress, and asked for details. The Babe explained once more, and Welch heartily corroborated Tony’s remarks. Charteris thanked him too.
‘You aren’t really going, are you?’ asked Welch.
‘Rather,’ said Charteris.
‘The Old Man won’t give you leave.’
‘Shan’t worry the poor man with such trifles.’
‘But it’s miles out of bounds. Stapleton station is out of bounds to start with. It’s against rules to go in a train, and Rutton’s even more out of bounds than Stapleton.’
‘And as there are sports there,’ said Tony, ‘the Old Man is certain to put Rutton specially out of bounds for that day. He always bars a St Austin’s chap going to a place when there’s anything going on there.’
‘I don’t care. What have I to do with the Old Man’s petty prejudices? Now, let me get at my time-table. Here we are. Now then.’
‘Don’t be a fool,’ said Tony,
‘Certainly not. Look here, there’s a train starts from Stapleton at three. I can catch that all right. Gets to Rutton at three-twenty. Sports begin at three-fifteen. At least, they are supposed to. Over before five, I should think. At least, my race will be, though I must stop to see the Oldest Inhabitant’s nevvy win the egg and spoon canter. But that ought to come on before the strangers’ race. Train back at a quarter past five. Arrives at a quarter to six. Lock up six-fifteen. That gives me half an hour to get here from Stapleton. What more do you want? I shall do it easily, and … the odds against my being booked are about twenty-five to one. At which price if any gent present cares to deposit his money, I am willing to take him. Now I’ll treat you to a tune, if you’re good.’
He went to the cupboard and produced his gramophone. Charteris’s musical instruments had at one time been strictly suppressed by the authorities, and, in consequence, he had laid in a considerable stock of them. At last, when he discovered that there was no rule against the use of musical instruments in the House, Merevale had yielded. The stipulation that Charteris should play only before prep. was rigidly observed, except when Merevale was over at the Hall, and the Sixth had no work. On such occasions Charteris felt justified in breaking through the rule. He had a gramophone, a banjo, a penny whistle, and a mouth organ. The banjo, which he played really well, was the most in request, but the gramophone was also popular.
‘Turn on “Whistling Rufus”,’ observed Thomson.
‘Whistling Rufus’ was duly turned on, giving way after an encore to ‘Bluebells’.
‘I always weep when I hear this,’ said Tony.
‘It
I’ll be your sweetheart, if you—will be—mine, All my life, I’ll be your valentine. Bluebells I’ve gathered— grrhhrh.
The needle of the gramophone, after the manner of its kind, slipped raspingly over the surface of the wax, and the rest of the ballad was lost.
‘That,’ said Charteris, ‘is how I feel with regard to the Old Man. I’d be his sweetheart, if he’d be mine. But he makes no advances, and the stain on my scutcheon is not yet wiped out. I must say I haven’t tried gathering bluebells for him yet, nor have I offered my services as a perpetual valentine, but I’ve been very kind to him in other ways.’
‘Is he still down on you?’ asked the Babe.
‘He hasn’t done much lately. We’re in a state of truce at present. Did I tell you how I scored about Stapleton?’
‘You’ve only told us about a hundred times,’ said the Babe brutally. ‘I tell you what, though, he’ll score off you if he finds you going to Rutton.’
‘Let’s hope he won’t.’
‘He won’t,’ said Welch suddenly.
‘Why?’
‘Because you won’t go. I’ll bet you anything you like that you won’t go.’
That settled Charteris. It was the sort of remark that always acted on him like a tonic. He had been intending to go all the time, but it was this speech of Welch’s that definitely clinched the matter. One of his mottoes for everyday use was ‘Let not thyself be scored off by Welch.’
