never would he lose sight of this place and what he'd learned here. He looked directly into the magistrate's rather sad-eyed face and said, 'My past should be of little interest to you, sir. It is my usefulness in the present and future that I expect you wish to ascertain. As to that, I speak and write Latin. I'm also fluent in French. I don't know anything about law, but I am a quick study. My handwriting is legible, my concentration is good, I have no bad habits to speak of—'
'Other than being full of himself and a bit too big for his britches,' Ausley interrupted.
'I'm sure the headmaster prefers smaller britches,' Matthew said, still staring into Woodward's eyes. He felt rather than saw Ausley go rigid with barely controlled anger. One of the other boys caught back a laugh before it doomed him. 'As I was saying, I have no bad habits to speak of. I can learn whatever I need to know, and I would make a very able clerk. Would you get me out of here, sir?'
'The boy's unsuitable for your needs!' Ausley spoke up again. 'He's a troublemaker and a liar! Corbett, you're dismissed.'
'One moment,' the magistrate said. 'If he's so unsuitable, why did you even bother to include him?'
Ausley's moon-shaped face bloomed red. 'Well. .. because . . . that is to say, I—'
'I'd like to see an example of your handwriting,' Woodward told the boy. 'Write for me . . . oh . . . the Lord's Prayer. In Latin, if you're such a scholar.' Then, to Ausley, 'Can that be arranged?'
'Yes sir. I have a tablet and quill in my office.' Ausley cast Matthew a look that, had it been a knife, would've plunged between the eyes, and then he dismissed the other boys and led the way to his chamber.
When it was done, the magistrate satisfied as to Matthew's value, and the papers of transferral drawn up, Woodward announced he had some business to attend to elsewhere but that he would return the next morning and take the boy away. 'I do expect the young man will be in good condition,' Woodward told the headmaster. 'As he is now my charge, I shouldn't like it that he might suffer an accident in the night.'
'You needn't be concerned, sir,' was Ausley's rather chill reply. 'But I require the sum of one guinea to house and feed him until your return. After all, he is your charge.'
'I understand.' The gold guinea coin—worth twenty-one shillings, an exorbitant price to pay—was removed from Woodward's wallet and placed into Ausley's outstretched hand. Thus was the agreement sealed and Matthew's protection bought.
At supper, however, one of Ausley's thuggish helpers entered the dining hall. A silence fell as the man walked directly to Matthew and grasped his shoulder. 'You're to come with me,' he said, and Matthew had no choice but to comply.
In the headmaster's chamber, Ausley sat behind the same desk that Staunton had occupied in happier times. The place was dirty, the window's glass panes filmed with soot. Ausley lit a churchwarden pipe with the flame of a lamp and said, 'Leave us,' to his accomplice. When the other man had retreated, Ausley sat smoking his pipe and staring with his small dark eyes at Matthew.
'My supper's getting cold,' Matthew said, daring the lash.
'Oh, you think you're so smart, don't you?' Ausley drew on the pipe and expelled smoke from his nostrils. 'So damned clever. But you're not near as clever as you take yourself to be, boy.'
'Do you require a response from me, sir, or do you wish me to be silent?'
'Silent. Just stand there and listen. You're thinking that because you're off to be the ward of a magistrate you can cause some trouble for me, isn't that right? Maybe you think I've done some things that ought to be called to his attention?'
'Sir?' Matthew said. 'Might I suggest a book on logic for your bedtime reading?'
'Logic? What's that got to do with anything?'
'You've told me to be silent, but then posed questions that require an answer.'
'Shut your mouth, you little bastard!' Ausley rose to his feet on a surge of anger. 'Just mark well what I say! My commission gives me absolute authority to run this institution as I see fit! Which includes the administering of order and punishments, as I see fit!' Ausley, realizing he was on the edge of losing all control, settled back into his chair and glared at Matthew through a blue haze of pipesmoke. 'No one can prove I have been remiss in that duty, or overzealous in my methods,' he said tersely. 'For a very simple reason: I have not been so. Any and all actions I have taken here have been to benefit my charges. Do you agree with that, or do you disagree?'
'I presume you wish me to speak now?'
'I do.'
'I have small qualm With the method of your punishments, though I would consider some of them to have been delivered with a sickening sense of joy,' Matthew said. 'My objections concern your methods after the dormitory lamps have been put out.'
'And what methods are you referring to? My private counseling of wayward, stubborn boys whose attitudes are disruptive? My willingness to take in hand these boys and guide them in the proper direction? Is that your reference?'
'I think you understand my reference very clearly, sir.'
Ausley gave a short, hard laugh. 'You don't know anything. Have you witnessed with your own eyes any impropriety? No. Oh, you've heard things, of course. Because all of you despise me. That's why. You despise me, because I'm your master and wild dogs cannot bear the collar. And now, because you fancy yourself so damned clever, you think to cause me some trouble by way of that black-robed magpie. But I shall tell you why you will not.'
Matthew waited while Ausley pushed more tobacco into the bowl of his pipe, tamped it down, and relit it with deliberately slow motions.
'Your objections,' Ausley said acidly, 'would be very difficult to prove. As I've said, my commission gives me absolute authority. I know I've delivered some harsh punishments; too harsh perhaps. That is why you might wish to slander me. And the other boys?
Well... I like this position, young man, and I plan on staying here for many years to come. Just because you're leaving does not mean the others—your friends, the ones among whom you've grown up—will be departing anytime soon. Your actions might have an effect on their comfort.' He drew on the pipe, tilted his head upward, and spewed smoke toward the ceiling. 'There are so many young ones here,' he said. 'Much younger than you. And do you realize how many more the hospitals and churches are trying to place with us? Hardly a day goes by when I don't receive an enquiry concerning our available beds. I am forced to turn so many young ones away. So, you see, there will always be a fresh supply.' He offered Matthew a cold smile. 'May I give you some advice?'
Matthew said nothing. 'Consider yourself fortunate,' Ausley continued. 'Consider that your education concerning the real world has been furthered. Be of excellent service to the magistrate, be of good cheer and good will, and live a long and happy life.' He held up a thick finger to warrant Matthew's full attention. 'And never— never—plot a war you have no hope of winning. Am I understood?'
Matthew hesitated; his mind was working over the planes and angles of this problem, diagramming and dissecting it, turning it this way and that, shaking it in search of a loose nail that might be further loosened, stretching it like a chain to inspect the links, and hoping to find one rust-gnawed and able to be broken.
'Am I understood?' Ausley repeated, with some force.
Matthew was left with one response. At least for the moment. He said, 'Yes, sir,' in his calmest voice.
'Very good. You may go back to your supper.'
Matthew left the headmaster's office and returned to his food; it was, indeed, cold and quite tasteless. That night he said goodbye to his friends, he climbed into his bunk in the dormitory, but he found sleep elusive. What should have been an occasion of rejoicing was instead a time for reflection and more than a little regret. At first light, he was dressed and waiting. Soon afterward, the bell at the front gate rang and a staff member came to escort him to Magistrate Woodward in the courtyard.
As the magistrate's carriage pulled away, Matthew glanced back at the Home and saw Ausley standing at the window, watching. Matthew felt the tip of a blade poised at his throat. He looked away from the window, staring instead at his hands clenched together in his lap.
'You seem downcast, young man,' the magistrate said. 'Are you troubled by something?'
'Yes, sir, I am,' Matthew had to admit. He thought of Ausley at the window, the carriage wheels turning to take him far away from the almshouse, the boys who were left behind, the terrible punishments that Ausley could bring down upon them. For now, Ausley held the power.Iplan on staying here for many years to come, the headmaster had said. In that case, Matthew knew where to find him.
