It was now too late for any serious literary efforts. No bard can do without his sleep. Even Homer used to nod at times. So Pringle contented himself with reading through the poem, which consisted of some thirty lines, and copying the same down on a sheet of notepaper for future reference. After which he went to bed.
In order to arrive at Beckford in time for morning school, he had to start from the house at eight o’clock punctually. This left little time for poetical lights. The consequence was that when Lorimer, on the following afternoon, demanded the poem as per contract, all that Pringle had to show was the copy which he had made of the poem in the book. There was a moment’s suspense while Conscience and Sheer Wickedness fought the matter out inside him, and then Conscience, which had started on the encounter without enthusiasm, being obviously flabby and out of condition, threw up the sponge.
“Here you are,” said Pringle, “it’s only a rough copy, but here it is.”
Lorimer perused it hastily.
“But, I say,” he observed in surprised and awestruck tones, “this is rather good.”
It seemed to strike him as quite a novel idea. “Yes, not bad, is it?”
“But it’ll get the prize.”
“Oh, we shall have to prevent that somehow.”
He did not mention how, and Lorimer did not ask.
“Well, anyhow,” said Lorimer, “thanks awfully. I hope you’ve not fagged about it too much.”
“Oh no,” said Pringle airily, “rather not. It’s been no trouble at all.”
He thus, it will be noticed, concluded a painful and immoral scene by speaking perfect truth. A most gratifying reflection.
XII
“We, the Undersigned—”
Norris kept his word with regard to the Bishop’s exclusion from the Eleven. The team which had beaten the O.B.s had not had the benefit of his assistance, Lorimer appearing in his stead. Lorimer was a fast right-hand bowler, deadly in House matches or on a very bad wicket. He was the mainstay of the Second Eleven attack, and in an ordinary year would have been certain of his First Eleven cap. This season, however, with Gosling, Baynes, and the Bishop, the School had been unusually strong, and Lorimer had had to wait.
The nonappearance of his name on the notice-board came as no surprise to Gethryn. He had had the advantage of listening to Norris’s views on the subject. But when Marriott grasped the facts of the case, he went to Norris and raved. Norris, as is right and proper in the captain of a School team when the wisdom of his actions is called into question, treated him with no respect whatever.
“It’s no good talking,” he said, when Marriott had finished a brisk opening speech, “I know perfectly well what I’m doing.”
“Then there’s no excuse for you at all,” said Marriott. “If you were mad or delirious I could understand it.”
“Come and have an ice,” said Norris.
“Ice!” snorted Marriott. “What’s the good of standing there babbling about ices! Do you know we haven’t beaten the O.B.s for four years?”
“We shall beat them this year.”
“Not without Gethryn.”
“We certainly shan’t beat them with Gethryn, because he’s not going to play. A chap who chooses the day of the M.C.C. match to go off for the afternoon, and then refuses to explain, can consider himself jolly well chucked until further notice. Feel ready for that ice yet?”
“Don’t be an ass.”
“Well, if ever you do get any ice, take my tip and tie it carefully round your head in a handkerchief. Then perhaps you’ll be able to see why Gethryn isn’t playing against the O.B.s on Saturday.”
And Marriott went off raging, and did not recover until late in the afternoon, when he made eighty-three in an hour for Leicester’s House in a scratch game.
There were only three of the eleven Houses whose occupants seriously expected to see the House cricket cup on the mantelpiece of their dining-room at the end of the season. These were the School House, Jephson’s, and Leicester’s. In view of Pringle’s sensational feats throughout the term, the knowing ones thought that the cup would go to the School House, with Leicester’s runners-up. The various members of the First Eleven were pretty evenly distributed throughout the three Houses. Leicester’s had Gethryn, Reece, and Marriott. Jephson’s relied on Norris, Bruce, and Baker. The School House trump card was Pringle, with Lorimer and Baynes to do the bowling, and Hill of the First Eleven and Kynaston and Langdale of the second to back him up in the batting department. Both the other First Eleven men were day boys.
The presence of Gosling in any of the House elevens, however weak on paper, would have lent additional interest to the fight for the cup; for in House matches, where every team has more or less of a tail, one really good fast bowler can make a surprising amount of difference to a side.
There was a great deal of interest in the School about the House cup. The keenest of all games at big schools are generally the House matches. When Beckford met Charchester or any of the four schools which it played at cricket and football, keenness reached its highest pitch. But next to these came the House matches.
Now that he no longer played for the Eleven, the Bishop was able to give his whole mind to training the House team in the way it should go. Exclusion from the First Eleven meant also that he could no longer, unless possessed
