mm 
 
 m
 
 L I E) RARY 
 
 OF THE 
 
 UN IVERSITY 
 
 or ILLI NOIS 
 
 823
 
 JOSEPH C. BUSH
 
 THE OLD ADAM 
 
 A TALE OF AN' ARMY CRAMMER. 
 
 BY 
 
 HUGH COLEMAN DAVIDSON, 
 
 AUTHOR OF 
 'THE GREEN HILLS BT THE SEA," "CAST OX THE WATERS," ETC. 
 
 IN THREE VOLUMES, 
 VOL. I. 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 S.IMPSON LOW, MAESTON, SEARLE, & RIVINGTON, 
 
 LIMITED, 
 
 Sht ©imstan's pjousc, 
 
 Fetter Lane, Fleet Street, E.G. 
 
 1888. 
 
 \_All rights reserved.]
 
 LONDON : 
 
 PRINTED BY WILLIAM CLOWES AND SONS, LIMITED, 
 
 STAMFORD STREET AND CHARING CROSS.
 
 ez3 
 
 ^.1 
 
 ^' CONTENTS OF VOL. I. 
 
 CHAPTER PAGE 
 
 I. EOBBED ... ... ... ... 1 
 
 II. A Fashionable Crammer... ... 23 
 
 III. Mr. Valentine Gaunt ... ... 40 
 
 IV. An Inquisitive Landlady ... 56 
 V. An Alarming Discovery ... ... 65 
 
 VI. The Professor at Home ... ... 84 
 
 VII. A Proposal... ... ... ... 101 
 
 -^VIII. The Rival Tutors ... ... 114 
 
 ^^' IX. The Doctor's Dilemma ... ... 132 
 
 ^ X. Found ... ... ... ... 150 
 
 ^ XI. Greek meets Greek ... ... ... 169 
 
 ^ XII. Victor and Vanquished ... ... 186 
 
 JXIII. An Alliance ... ... ... 201 
 
 "\ 
 
 XIV. Crams and Crammers ... ... 220 
 
 ^-, 
 
 j^ 'XV. Groping in the Dark ... ... 245 
 
 4
 
 THE OLD ADAM. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 ROBBED. 
 
 *' Excuse me, sir, but is that my arm or 
 yours ? " 
 
 " Can't say. Is it marked ? " 
 
 " It ought to be marked ! " returned the 
 first speaker severely. 
 
 "Let me tell you, sir," quietly said the 
 other, a tall, well-built young fellow, '' that 
 I grow corns for my own inconvenience, and 
 not for the use of others." 
 
 " Sapristi ! il fait chaud^' exclaimed a 
 Frenchman, struggling with his handkerchief. 
 
 " They ought to have provided beds if they 
 
 VOL. I. B 
 
 -DV3
 
 2 THE OLD ADAM. 
 
 intend to keep ns here all niglit," laughed a 
 gaudily-dressed woman. 
 
 " Oh, my ribs ! " 
 
 " Oranges — oranges — oranges ! who'll 
 buy?" 
 
 These and many similar exclamations pro- 
 ceeded from a crowd striving to push through 
 the long narrow entrance to the Parnassus 
 Theatre : a difficult task, as the doors were 
 still closed. 
 
 Arnold Cressingham, as the tall young 
 fellow subsequently announced his name to 
 be, was cast in a very powerful mould, yet 
 his deliberate manner and drawling speech 
 betokened anything but the active athlete. 
 Upon his broad, square shoulders was set a 
 small but not unintelligent head, the forehead 
 high, the chin firm, and the nose irreproach- 
 able. The corners of his mouth were slightly 
 turned down, which gave his features a 
 mournful expression not altogether in keep- 
 ing with his character. His grey eyes were 
 usually depressed beneath their long dark 
 lashes ; they seemed to lack the power of
 
 EOBBED. 8 
 
 smiling spontaneously, but when they caught 
 a smile elsewhere they seldom failed to reflect 
 it. Judged by his face and dark moustache, 
 he looked older than he really was, his age 
 being only just twenty-two. 
 
 His immediate neighbours in the crowd 
 were the gaudily-dressed woman in front ; 
 a flashy-looking individual behind ; a pale- 
 faced youth on the one hand, and, on the 
 other, the Frenchman, his nationality being 
 shown not only by his voice and features, but 
 also by the peculiarly fierce way in which he 
 resented being compressed into a smaller space 
 than he deemed consistent with his dignity. 
 
 When at length the doors were opened, the 
 crowd made a simultaneous advance, the 
 pressure increased, and the woman suddenly 
 subsided into Arnold's arms. Many young 
 fellows would have blushed to the roots of 
 their hair at being placed in such a com- 
 promising position, but Arnold showed not 
 the least discomposure as he pressed forward 
 with his burden. It struck him, however, 
 that a little more room would be an ad-
 
 THE OLD ADAM. 
 
 vantage, and, with this object in view, he 
 stamped upon the Frenchman's toes. 
 
 ^' Sapiisti ! " indignantly cried the latter, 
 '' you have some weight, you great fellow, 
 
 you ! " 
 
 '' This, sir, is a struggle for the survival of 
 the fittest. Weight always tells in the long 
 
 run." 
 
 *iThat is sure ; it has told upon my foots." 
 
 " There are so many foots about," observed 
 Arnold, coolly, " that it's easier to stand upon 
 other people's than upon one's own." 
 
 The Frenchman gave him a sharp, sus- 
 picious look. He was completely puzzled by 
 the phlegmatic Englishman, who measured 
 out his words as if he were a draper anxious 
 not to give a customer too many yards of 
 ribbon for her money, and who seemed to be 
 joking, yet with a face as grave as a judge. 
 An angry retort rose to his lips, but his eyes 
 resting upon the woman, he was mollified at 
 once. 
 
 And now ensued a somewhat surprising 
 incident. Hastily disengaging one arm.
 
 ROBBED. 
 
 Arnold turned partly round and hit out with 
 all his might ; whereupon the flashy-looking 
 individual behind fell groaning to the ground. 
 The human stream experienced a sudden 
 check. It seemed to the bystanders that a 
 most unprovoked attack had been committed, 
 and they spoke their minds pretty freely. 
 Arnold, however, took no notice of them. 
 He had felt in his pocket a hand that he was 
 quite sure was not his own, so he had only 
 been protecting his own interests. 
 
 " I shall know where to find him if I want 
 him," he drawled ; and having by this time 
 gained the barrier, pushed on and entered the 
 theatre. 
 
 But he had scarcely deposited his burden 
 upon a bench when some ungrammatical 
 person said — 
 
 " That's him, there ! " 
 
 And the next moment he was tapped on 
 the shoulder by a policeman. 
 
 " You're wanted outside, sir." 
 
 " Indeed 1 " said Arnold, coolly ; " I merely 
 doubled the man up for future reference."
 
 b THE OLD ADAM. 
 
 The policeman produced a pocket-book and 
 made a note of the remark. Then with his 
 pencil held ready, and his eyes fixed upon 
 Arnold, he said — 
 
 " Eemember, you're not called upon to say 
 anything that may criminate yourself." 
 
 " The scoundrel has taken my purse ! " 
 He had only just made the discovery. 
 
 ''^Come with me, sir." 
 
 " But what am I to do with this woman ? " 
 
 " Woman, indeed ! " she cried, recovering 
 from her fainting fit with astonishing celerity, 
 and springing to her feet. " I'll teach you to 
 call me a woman, young man. Policeman, I 
 give him in charge. I had seven shillings in 
 my pocket when I came to the theatre, so 
 help me — ask Jack, if you don't believe me — 
 and where are they gone ? " She turned her 
 pocket inside out — it was empty. *' There ! 
 now do you believe me ? All the time he 
 was pretending to help me he was robbing 
 me." 
 
 If it had been in Arnold's nature to mani- 
 fest astonishment at anything, he would
 
 BOBBED. 7 
 
 certainly have done so at being assailed in 
 this unexpected way, but he merely glanced 
 from the woman's flushed face to the official 
 mask of the policeman. There could be no 
 doubt that the whole thing had been a 
 ** plant " — that while he was fully occupied 
 in carrying her, her confederate had been 
 picking his pocket. To lose his purse was 
 bad enough, but to be charged with robbery 
 was a thousand times worse. It was a 
 charge, too, that he might have a difficulty 
 in refuting. She had named almost the exact 
 sum that he had in his pocket, he had not 
 a single friend in London, and he could only 
 oppose his word against hers. 
 
 " Of course, you don't believe her ? " he 
 said to the policeman. 
 
 " I must take the charge." 
 
 '' Certainly you must take the charge," she 
 said ; " you must do your duty, for you're 
 paid for it." 
 
 " It is a frightful swindle what she says," 
 declared the Frenchman, whose toes Arnold 
 had treated so badly.
 
 8 THE OLD ADAM. 
 
 He had been watching this little scene, and 
 now stepped forward from the midst of a 
 number of curious spectators. The woman 
 turned angrily upon the new-comer. But 
 before another word was said the policeman 
 beckoned to them to follow him outside. 
 
 " They are rascals, these people," whispered 
 the Frenchman to Arnold, as they followed 
 the .other two down the passage, which was 
 now almost deserted. " She is in league with 
 the fellow you knocked down ; I am sure of 
 that. I shall be your bail, if you will allow 
 me. 
 
 He handed to Arnold a card, on which was 
 printed, with many flourishes : " M. Dubarri, 
 Histrionic Professor, 13, Momus Street, 
 Bloomsbury." 
 
 " You are very kind, sir," said Arnold, 
 feeling that it was unusual to gain a man's 
 favour by treading on his toes, and wondering 
 to what particular species a histrionic pro- 
 fessor belonged ; " but I trust I shan't require 
 your services. I am anxious to make my 
 debut, but not in a police-court."
 
 ROBBED. y 
 
 " You are going on the stage, then ? " 
 eagerly inquired M. Dubarri. 
 
 " If the stage will have me." 
 
 " The man has disappeared," announced the 
 policeman, coming back to them. 
 
 ^' But the woman," cried M. Dubarri, 
 frantically waving his hand. '' Sapristil you 
 have not allowed her to go ? " 
 
 " Why not ? " 
 
 " Why not ? Parhleu I you are stupid, 
 you bobby fellow. They are in league. 
 Quick — quick — catch her. They have this 
 gentleman's purse. Do you not see it ? " 
 And the excited Professor, unable to control 
 himself any longer, dashed past the policeman, 
 and gained the street. 
 
 Too late, however. The woman also had 
 vanished. 
 
 It was a dreary September evening. The 
 rain was falling in a steady downpour; the 
 water in the gutters was running with a 
 consistency and colour that rivalled the neigh- 
 bouring Thames ; the gas-lamps were glim- 
 mering with just sufficient light to show their
 
 10 THE OLD ADAM. 
 
 whereabouts at close quarters ; and most of 
 the shops were closed. Yet the street was 
 full of noise and bustle, caused by cabs and 
 omnibuses in the roadway, and two contend- 
 ing streams of human beings upon the foot- 
 paths. To hunt for the thieves in such a 
 scene would be clearly absurd. 
 
 " Cest impossible ! " muttered M. Dubarri. 
 Tarring to the policeman, he asked, " Did 
 you think that the bird would wait for you 
 to salt its tail? That is your English pro- 
 verb, I think." 
 
 " How was I to know the two were working 
 together ? " 
 
 " Ah, my good friend ! " said M. Dubarri, 
 playfully tapping the man on the shoulder, 
 " you must paint the whole world black until 
 it whitens itself. The good persons are so 
 few you can. neglect them, as the mathema- 
 ticians do all small quantities. It is for you 
 to do with rules, is it not ? Yery well, then ; 
 you have nothing to do with the exceptions. 
 That is true, Mr. ? " 
 
 He stopped and looked at Arnold, who 
 said, " Cressingham."
 
 EOBBED. 1 1 
 
 " Come with me, Mr. Cressingham ; I would 
 talk to you/' continued M. Dubarri, familiarly 
 taking Arnold by the arm. ^' He is simple, 
 that bobby fellow," added he, shaking his dis- 
 engaged hand, which was closed except for the 
 forefinger, as the two walked along the street 
 together. " The Jack of whom she spoke, 
 without doubt he was the rascal to whom you 
 gave one for his nob. Allans, egayez-vous I 
 We shall find your purse, never fear." 
 
 " I dare say it may turn up — empty. But 
 if we are going to talk, we had better do so 
 in my rooms than in the rain." 
 
 They accordingly quickened their pace, and 
 presently turned down a side street. At the 
 door of a dismal little house Arnold stopped. 
 They entered by the aid of a latch-key. M. 
 Dubarri's keen eyes noted every detail, from 
 the dingy lamp suspended in the hall to the 
 still dingier paper that threatened to tumble 
 from the walls. Arnold's rooms were at the 
 very top. He had selected them for two 
 reasons — economy, and their nearness to the 
 theatres. This being only the second day of
 
 12 THE OLD ADAM. 
 
 his tenure, he had not had time to realize 
 their inconvenience. 
 
 His sitting-room was small and gloomy. 
 Yery little light could penetrate the dust- 
 encrusted window, across which a pair of 
 faded green curtains were partly drawn. The 
 furniture was old and rickety — a table, a 
 few chairs, a broken-backed couch, and little 
 else.- Arnold lighted a couple of candles, and 
 pulled down the blind. 
 
 It was with an expression of disappoint- 
 ment that M. Dubarri took his seat on the 
 couch. He had evidently expected to see 
 something better than this. Nevertheless, 
 he was too fond of talking to allow his dis- 
 appointment to take a firm hold of him. 
 
 Let us take the opportunity of observing 
 him, as he sits there volubly discussing the 
 recent robbery, emphasizing this point with 
 an animated gesture and that with a shrug 
 of his sloping rounded shoulders, swaying 
 his slight and rather shrivelled body ex- 
 citedly to and fro, and, when his emotions 
 become too strong to be conveyed in a sitting
 
 ROBBED. 13 
 
 posture, rising to his feet to lay violent hands 
 on Arnold. 
 
 His forehead is high, narrow, receding, 
 and deeply furrowed, and the wrinkles run 
 along it in waves until even his hair is 
 moving up and down at times. Beneath 
 brows arched almost like Gothic windows, 
 twinkle small cunning eyes, ligliting up occa- 
 sionally with a triumphant expression quite 
 fierce in its intensity. Two bald gulleys run 
 far into his dark hair tinged with grey ; and 
 his beard, whiskers, and moustache are of the 
 same colour. A funny little snub nose, on 
 which his gold-rimmed pince-nez can perch 
 as on a saddle ; clothes shockingly made, yet 
 not without a certain attempt at spruceness ; 
 the Eibbon of the Legion of Honour in the 
 button-hole of the coat ; plenty of shirt-front, 
 not too spotless ; a massive gold chain, shown 
 just a trifle too ostentatiously — these complete 
 the picture. 
 
 " You wish to be an actor ? " he said, when 
 the question of the stolen purse had been 
 turned inside out.
 
 14 THE OLD ADAM. 
 
 "I do/' replied Arnold, solemnly. He 
 was standing with his back to the grate, his 
 hands tucked up beneath his coat-tails. 
 
 " You have no need of a nom-de-guerre^ 
 Mr. Cressingham. Yours is an excellent 
 name." 
 
 " I have no reason to be ashamed of it." 
 
 " And you are of good family ? " said the 
 curious Professor, mentally contrasting the 
 dingy room with Arnold's gentlemanly ap- 
 pearance, well-cut clothes, and gold chain, to 
 which, as he had observed, a gold watch was 
 attached. 
 
 " Neither my father nor my mother has 
 been a notorious sinner." 
 
 " Vous plaisantez, nest-ce pas f " exclaimed 
 M. Dubarri, with a swift inquiring look ; for 
 the idea of being used as a butt is singularly 
 irritating to the Gallic mind. " NHmporte — 
 no matter. You are a good fellow" — he 
 sprang up and seized the lappel of Arnold's 
 coat — " and I think I shall be able to help 
 you." 
 
 " No good offer refused," said Arnold, com-
 
 ROBBED. 15 
 
 placently looking down at the excitable little 
 Frenchman. " Are you a theatrical manager 
 in disguise, M. Dubarri ? " 
 
 " No, no ; you mistake. Have you not 
 read my card ? I am a histrionic professor. 
 You understand ? I teach elocution to those 
 who have the grand passion to go on the 
 stage. If you will allow me, I shall teach 
 3^ou. Twelve lessons for one guinea — in 
 advance. That is cheap, is it not ? " 
 
 " Yery," answered Arnold drily. Now 
 that he had lost his purse, he had exactly 
 seven-and-sixpence left in the world. 
 
 " Eh, hlen ! that is what I offer to you. 
 And after, you shall have introductions to 
 the managers. I know some who are very 
 good. They pay well, those managers ; but 
 then it will be necessary for you to show 
 ability. Have you ever practised ? " He 
 dropped Arnold's coat and stood with his 
 left hand laid on his chest, and his right 
 extended like a semaphore, as if to point out 
 the way it should be done. 
 
 " I have done a little in the amateur line.
 
 16 THE OLD ADAM. 
 
 but I dare say that would be enough to hang 
 a professional." 
 
 " Bah ! that is nothing ; nothing. You 
 must learn ; you must work day and night 
 like a slave ; and then you will win. You 
 Englishmen are so statuesque. You move 
 about like walking dreams ; there is no life 
 in you. Excuse me, but you see I am frank. 
 Suit the action to the word, that is my 
 maxim. Faites attention I " 
 
 M. Dubarri here gave a Shakesperian 
 recitation, accompanied by suitable panto- 
 mimic gestures, his pronunciation of English 
 being anything but correct. Among other 
 things, the aspirate had proved a shibboleth 
 that he could never master, hard as he had 
 tried to get a grip of the slippery creature. 
 He could speak fairly well at times ; but 
 when he was strongly moved — a frequent 
 occurrence with him — his thoughts were sent 
 flying out in a parti-coloured garb, half 
 French and half English, sometimes with a 
 little colouring peculiarly his own. 
 
 " Ah, I see you admire me, my friend,"
 
 EOBBED. 17 
 
 said he, breaking off the recitation abruptly. 
 "Well, I am not so bad. But, you see, I 
 have practised much ; I have worked hard. 
 Some day I shall make you as good as myself ; 
 that is to say, if you will permit me. You 
 will learn, eh ? And after, you shall have 
 the introductions and go on the stage and 
 make a fortune. Ah ! it is good to have the 
 grand passion." 
 
 " And all for the outlay of one guinea," 
 commented Arnold, half to himself. 
 
 " In advance," added the Professor, correc- 
 tively. " For that, you shall have twelve 
 lessons, and then we shall see how you go 
 on. You need not decide now. Take my 
 proposition into your consideration, and write 
 to me. You have my address." 
 
 It is not pleasant to have to confess that 
 one's worldly wealth is limited to seven-and- 
 sixpence, and that this sum has to provide 
 board and lodging for an unlimited period. 
 It is far easier and far more agreeable to 
 prevaricate by means of a letter. This course 
 Arnold resolved to adopt. He told M. 
 
 VOL. I. c
 
 18 THE OLD ADAM. 
 
 DubarrI so, and the latter shortly afterwards 
 departed. 
 
 He had not been long gone when Arnold 
 strolled out to get something to eat. He 
 paused at the door of a neighbouring restau- 
 rant and looked in. A general air of grease 
 and unclecnness pervaded the place. The 
 waiters were slovenly, and bread-crumbs were 
 lying upon the tables. Arnold hesitated ; 
 hungry though he was, he would sooner have 
 had bread-and-cheese upon a clean plate than 
 the most sumptuous repast badly served. But, 
 having made up his mind to be economical, 
 and reflecting that economy and dirt might 
 perhaps be inseparable companions, he re- 
 solved to make their acquaintance forthwith. 
 On his previous visits to town, he had affected 
 the West End, and dined as his fancy had 
 dictated, without the need of any consultation 
 with his pocket ; he had even acted in the 
 same way on the previous day ; but, as a 
 seven-and-sixpenny aspirant to the stage, he 
 was obliged to turn over a new and very 
 skimpy leaf.
 
 EOiiBED. 19 
 
 " Roast beef, potatoes, and bread," he said 
 to the waiter, on taking his seat, 
 
 '' Beer, sir ? " 
 
 "Half a pint." Then to himself: " One- 
 and-five for the dinner, and sixpence to the 
 waiter ; if that isn't thrift, I don't know what 
 is." It will be seen that Arnold felt unable 
 to reduce the waiter's tip in the same ratio as 
 he had reduced the rest of his expenses. - 
 
 His calculations were interrupted by hear- 
 ing one waiter say to another, " The gent 
 that sat there has bolted. He ordered mutton, 
 cabbage, potatoes, and a tankard of bitter, like 
 a lord ; and when I was attending to some 
 other customer, he just hooked it without 
 payiug a brass farthing." 
 
 " That's like many a lord, too," remarked 
 the other. 
 
 " That may be, but he has let me in for the 
 price of his supper." 
 
 This brief dialogue brought forcibly to 
 Arnold's mind the fact that unless he be- 
 stirred himself, his name also must soon be in 
 the defaulter's list. For the first time in liis
 
 20 THE OLD ADAM. 
 
 life he was beginning to feel what it is to be 
 short of cash. Being a terrible procrastinator, 
 slow to think and move, and, when set in 
 motion, carried forward by his own momen- 
 tum, he had scarcely given the matter a 
 thought before ; but now, unable to adopt the 
 inexpensive mode of dining employed by 
 " the gent that bolted," he felt the absolute 
 necessity of procuring money at once. The 
 loss of his purse had placed him in a very 
 awkward position. If, for example, his land- 
 lady should demand payment for his rooms 
 in advance — and his goodly supply of luggage 
 had been his only reference — a pretty fix he 
 would be in ! 
 
 " I had better lend my watch and chain to 
 my uncle," he said, as he left the restaurant. 
 " There are plenty of clocks about if I want 
 to know the time." 
 
 After having resolved upon taking this 
 desperate step, he was greatly disgusted to 
 find his uncle's establishment closed for the 
 night. 
 
 It was not until late in the following day
 
 EOBBED. 21 
 
 that he put his design into execution, for he 
 viewed the projected visit with anything but 
 pleasurable feelings. 
 
 In one respect fortune favoured him. A 
 
 thick white mist was rolling along the street, 
 
 enclosing each person in a fold impenetrable 
 
 to eyes a few yards away ; and under cover 
 
 of it, he made his way to the pawnbroker's 
 
 shop which he had noticed on the previous 
 
 evening. After satisfying himself that no 
 
 one was in sight, he swiftly entered, and 
 
 found himself confronted by a number of 
 
 small doors, all apparently locked. Each in 
 
 turn resisted his efforts, but at last one 
 
 yielded to his pressure. He carefully festened 
 
 the door of the cell that he had temporarily 
 
 appropriated, and then laid his watch and 
 
 chain on the counter. 
 
 " How much ? " demanded an assistant. 
 '' Thirty pounds. They cost forty." 
 " Pheugh ! Can't give you anything like 
 that." 
 
 '' What will you give, then ? " 
 " Nine-five."
 
 22 THE OLD ADAM. 
 
 " What ? " 
 
 " I'll spring half a crown, but that's the 
 very outside." 
 
 " Needs must when the Old Gentleman 
 handles the ribbons. Look sharp." 
 
 " What for this gold pencil-case ? " asked a 
 man in the next cell. 
 
 Arnold turned round sharply. Somehow 
 or other the voice sounded familiar to him, 
 though he was puzzled to know where he 
 had heard it before. The pawnbroker had 
 the pencil-case in his hand when Arnold, 
 who had been looking at it curiously, ex- 
 claimed — 
 
 " By Jove ! that's mine." 
 
 A sharp click, the bolt of the next cell 
 quickly drawn back, the door flung open, a 
 scuffling of feet, and the man was rushing 
 through the mist with Arnold in pursuit.
 
 ( 23 ) 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 A FASHIONABLE CRAMMER. 
 
 PuDDLETON is three miles from Stilbury, 
 which is its nearest railway station. 
 
 It is a small village, consisting merely of a 
 single street. Its houses are of various styles 
 of architecture, but all are antique, many 
 being apparently held together only by the 
 creepers and vines that are trailed so thickly 
 over them. The windows are mostly latticed ; 
 the doors are seldom shut, and never locked ; 
 and the bricks have long since lost their 
 maiden blush, and assumed a grey tint as 
 more becoming to their age. At one end of 
 the street are the Church, the Rectory, and 
 the Hut, an imposing house for the curate ; 
 at the other, live the doctor and the lawyer
 
 24 THE OLD ADAM. 
 
 in suggestive proximity to the public-house 
 and the police-station. 
 
 The village is sheltered by a range of 
 hills, the highest being Camelback, close at 
 the base of which it nestles like a chicken 
 under its mother's wing. The Splashwater, 
 a pretty little streamlet, babbles down the 
 slopes, and crosses the road, which is spanned 
 by a fine old bridge. The country around is 
 well wooded, but on the hill line there are 
 only a few stunted trees. All others have 
 been cut down by the keen edge of the wind, 
 and those that remain remind one of straggling 
 hairs on an ill-shaven face. 
 
 But in the immediate neighbourhood of 
 the village, the scenery is charming. The 
 lanes, sentinelled by oak and elm and chest- 
 nut, lie deep between lofty sloping banks, 
 which are often nothing but continuous chains 
 of wild flowers. The very fields seem to have 
 been laid out with a view to please the eye 
 rather than to benefit the farmer, for they are 
 quaintly picturesque in size and shape. The 
 roads, too, twist hither and thither, ap-
 
 A FASHIONABLE CRAMMER. 25 
 
 parently for no other purpose than to lead 
 to the prettiest spots, and over the steepest 
 hills, and not infrequently they eddy around 
 some grand old tree such as an artist delights 
 to paint. 
 
 Situated in the beautiful quietude of the 
 country, it is no wonder that Puddleton slept. 
 If its annals had been written, they would 
 have resembled the first column of the Times, 
 for its only landmarks were births, marriages, 
 and deaths. John Hodge was born ; John 
 Hodge was married, and begat little John 
 Hodges ; John Hodge was gathered to his 
 fathers, and his sons toiled in his stead. Such 
 had been the unvarying round for centuries. 
 
 But one autumn " a change came o'er the 
 spirit of its dream." Puddleton awoke with 
 a start to find a very tempting apple dangling 
 before its eyes, and to be had, seemingly, for 
 the plucking. For at that time the Rev. 
 Claude Cyprian Copingstone, D.D., was pre- 
 sented to the living. Had he been accom- 
 panied merely by his family, the peaceful 
 monotony of the village would not have been
 
 26 THE OLD ADAM. 
 
 greatly disturbed ; but he brought with him 
 a dozen aristocratic pupils, who gave them- 
 selves no end of airs and treated the rustics 
 as if they belonged to an inferior species. 
 However, the latter soon had their revenge. 
 " These young fellows are rich, let us bleed 
 them," said Grammon the butcher ; and he 
 did his work in such an artistic style that he 
 has long since retired in affluence. Most 
 of the other tradesmen followed Gammon's 
 advice, and, as the pupils increased in num- 
 bers, enlarged their shops, added to their 
 stock, and prospered amazingly. 
 
 Doctor Copingstone's object in coming to 
 such an outlandish spot seemed plain enough. 
 When the pupils described it as a dismal 
 hole, and asked what was to be done there, 
 he replied, " Work. For that purpose you 
 were confided to my care." 
 
 " You dislike this place ? " he said once to 
 Lord Ernest Plantagenet, a younger son of 
 the Duke of Tudor. 
 
 " I loathe it," was the candid response. 
 
 "Then," laughed the Doctor, and he had
 
 A FASHIONABLE CEAMMER. 27 
 
 a very singular laugh, ending with a long- 
 drawn sound like the gasps of an organ 
 when the performer is running up the scales 
 and the bellows-boy has fallen asleep, " do 
 your utmost to get out of it as quickly as 
 possible. In that way you will benefit your- 
 self, and me at the same time. Hunting " — 
 Plantagenet's dress suggested the remark — 
 " is all very well for steady-going old Heavi- 
 sides, who seems to have made up his mind 
 to spend his life here, but suppose you have 
 to remain another year here ! " 
 
 " Oh, Doctor, I should die ! " 
 
 " No, don't do that. It would be awkward 
 for me. Put your shoulder to the wheel, 
 and push like a nigger. A capital place for 
 work is Puddleton." 
 
 This explains his reason for pitching his 
 tent in an isolated village. The pupils, cut 
 off from every source of amusement, had to 
 take to their books, and so passed their 
 examinations with flying colours. But there 
 were times when they sought for other ways 
 of dispelling the ennui that hung like a
 
 28 THE OLD ADAM. 
 
 millstone from their necks, and dragged them 
 down to depths of unutterable dulness. Thej 
 haunted the Lark's-Nest for the purpose of 
 playing billiards, and sampling " the nut- 
 brown," though both diversioDS were strictly 
 forbidden. The Doctor, however, knew all 
 about this habit of theirs, and winked at it. 
 So long as no actual harm was done, he cared 
 very little what they did, or where they 
 went. If they worked, he was satisfied ; they 
 were welcome to break all such rules as were 
 framed merely for the parental eye. 
 
 At the time when our story opens — two 
 years after his wife's death — he had upwards 
 of forty pupils. His terms were two hundred 
 guineas a year, and his living brought him 
 another five hundred, so he was in the receipt 
 of a very comfortable income. 
 
 " I suppose I am what the world calls a 
 successful man," he said one day to his 
 lieutenant. " Yes, I suppose I am. To what 
 do you attribute my success ? " 
 
 " To your unbounded impudence," auda- 
 ciously replied the other.
 
 A FASHIONABLE CRAMMER. 29 
 
 " That's it, that's it," laughed the Doctor. 
 *' The Brazen has succeeded the Golden Age.'' 
 
 *' In your case they are contemporaneous." 
 
 There was much truth in this ; Dr. Coping- 
 stone would have made an excellent diplo- 
 matist. He was naturally suspicious and full 
 of dodges. Regarding every one as plotting 
 to get the better of him, he took " time by 
 the forelock" and counterplotted. Yet he 
 was all the while so courteous, so good- 
 humoured, and apparently so willing to 
 oblige, that even those who saw through his 
 schemes could not help liking him. It was 
 seldom indeed that an anxious father, after 
 paying a preliminary visit of inspection, did 
 not go away thoroughly charmed with the 
 affable Doctor and the whole place. 
 
 In appearance he was a tall, thin, wiry man, 
 with a little sharp-featured face. His hair 
 was slightly grey, and so also was his long 
 beard. His eyes were remarkable small, but 
 as keen as a hawk's ; and for reading, he 
 usually employed a pair of gold-rimmed 
 glasses. He was always neatly dressed, his
 
 30 THE OLD ADAM. 
 
 coat buttoned very high on the throat, but 
 his hat was a curiosity — made of soft felt, 
 very tall and running almost to a point. 
 The hat alone showed him to be a man of 
 infinite resource, unhampered by any absurd 
 rules or restrictions. 
 
 The Doctor prided himself most upon his 
 cunning, and after that upon his cobs. They 
 were irreproachable to look at, grand steppers, 
 but decidedly meek-tempered : pretentious, in 
 fact, like their owner, and chosen for their 
 pretentiousness. Some years before, he had 
 a slight disagreement with the animal he 
 was riding at the time, and in the end they 
 parted company rather suddenly. The cob 
 galloped down the road and the Doctor stood 
 on his head in a turnip-field. It was a novel 
 and not altogether agreeable position for a 
 clergyman, and the Doctor firmly resolved 
 that it should never happen again. Since 
 then, if any of his horses showed the least 
 inclination to kick, rear, or buck-jump, he 
 disposed of it with characteristic promptitude. 
 His family consisted of a son, who had just
 
 A FASHIONABLE CRAMMEE. 31 
 
 gone up to Oxford, and a daughter, a charm- 
 ing girl of eighteen. The pupils considered 
 it the proper thing to fall in love with blue- 
 eyed Xellie Copingstone, and the consequence 
 was a good deal of hot-headed jealousy. 
 However, their w^ath usually evaporated in 
 words, and their love manifested itself in 
 an eruption of sonnets, which the Doctor 
 intercepted and enjoyed many a hearty laugh 
 over. 
 
 There can be no doubt that if he had 
 wished to arrange a marriage between Nellie 
 and one of his pupils, he could easily have 
 done so, for he could have given her a dowry 
 sufficient to tempt many an impecunious 
 aristocrat ; but he had enough sense to see 
 that this would mean the immediate death of 
 the goose with the golden eggs. True, he 
 would have had no more daughters to marry, 
 but he would have been regarded as a man 
 ready for any deed of villainy. It had taken 
 him many years of almost incessant thought 
 and labour to build up the establishment 
 which had made his name famous ; he
 
 32 THE OLD ADAM. 
 
 regarded it with pride as a thing that would 
 last generation after generation ; and he was 
 not going to have it destroyed by any foolish 
 marriage. He meant it to grow and to 
 endure ; to pass to his son and his son's son ; 
 to become a modern Tower of Babel, more 
 successful than its prototype, lifting him to 
 the very skies. 
 
 He found, however, that the task of super- 
 intending this vast intellectual forcing 
 machine was getting beyond his powers. 
 Though he would have been the last to 
 confess it to anybody else, he was the first to 
 feel it. So he began to look about for a 
 sort of universal genius, who, in cases of 
 emergency, should follow in his footsteps, of 
 course at a humble distance. He didn't 
 mind paying him a good salary, but a suit- 
 able man must act as curate of the parish ; 
 take classics, mathematics, and occasionally 
 English ; write such letters as he couldn't 
 attend to himself; look after the pupils 
 generally ; pay the tradesmen's exorbitant 
 bills ; in fact, do everything that he didn't
 
 A FASHIONABLE CRAMMER. 33 
 
 care to do himself. It was a pretty large 
 order to be executed by a single individual ; 
 but, as already stated, Dr. Copingstone was a 
 man of resource. 
 
 He inserted in the Guardian an advertise- 
 men, merely stating that he required a curate 
 to assist with a few pupils, and offering a 
 large salary for this trifling work. He 
 received a hundred and fifty answers. 
 
 His method of selection was eminently 
 characteristic. He weeded out, first of all, 
 those who seemed to have applied pour passer 
 le temps ; then those whose testimonials were 
 lukewarm or contained suggestive omissions ; 
 and lastly those whose qualifications were 
 scarcely such as would recommend them for 
 high-class educational work. There remained 
 exactly nineteen. These he interviewed, 
 making them pay their own travelling ex- 
 penses, for the Doctor was a thrifty man in 
 small matters. Eleven more were afterwards 
 informed by letter of their rejection, nominally 
 because they lacked experience, really because 
 he considered that their personal appearance 
 
 VOL. I. D
 
 34 THE OLD ADAM. 
 
 would not recommend them to his aristocratic 
 pupils. 
 
 The eight survivors were now invited to 
 preach on consecutive Sundays in the parish 
 church, though they were kept in ignorance 
 of the fact that they were undergoing a 
 competitive examination. When all the 
 sermons had been delivered, the Doctor 
 started on a canvassing tour round the 
 parish and solicited votes, thereby gaining 
 the cheap popularity of which he was so 
 fond. He commenced with Mrs. Strathclyde, 
 the widow of the late squire ; then he went 
 to the doctor ; and so on, down to honest but 
 somewhat ignorant John Hodge, whose 
 knowledge of the English language extended 
 but little beyond such words as his cart- 
 horses understood. When all the votes had 
 been collected, the Doctor laid them on one 
 side and went by his own opinion. There 
 was a beautiful simplicity in the whole thing. 
 He had obtained eight sermons for nothing ; 
 he had pleased his parishioners by asking 
 their advice ; and now he pleased himself by
 
 A FASHIONABLE CRAMMER. 35 
 
 choosing the Rev. Leonard Sterne, M.A., as 
 his multifarious lieutenant. 
 
 Doubtless he might have made a much 
 worse choice, for Mr. Sterne was not only a 
 gentleman but also a scholar. He was a 
 slim, supple, active man, and, though getting 
 on towards his fortieth year, as nimble in the 
 cricket-field as when he had captained his 
 college eleven at Cambridge. His features 
 were cast in a rather austere mould, and the 
 effect was heightened by the length of his 
 face and brown beard, and also by a mouth 
 and chin showing remarkable inflexibility of 
 purpose. He could be very pleasant when 
 he chose, but it soon became evident that he 
 would never be generally popular — he was 
 far too conscientious for that. 
 
 He and his wife were installed at the Hut, 
 a large brick house, half hidden behind 
 Virginian creeper, and situated almost exactly 
 opposite the Rectory. Here lived the 
 majority of the pupils. Of the rest, some 
 were directly under the Doctor's eye, and 
 were facetiously styled " parlour-boarders,"
 
 36 THE OLD ADAM. 
 
 and the others were billeted upon the 
 different tutors, who, by the way, were called 
 " professors," because it sounded better. 
 
 When the Doctor first arrived in Puddle- 
 ton, he would receive none but clever pupils, 
 likely to go off his hands almost immediately, 
 and advertise his wonderful ability ; but 
 while he was always careful to have a 
 number of these shining lights, he was after- 
 wards willing to put up with lesser luminaries 
 as well, for they, at any rate, signified a 
 settled income for a few years. '^ Steady- 
 going old Heavisides," he has already men- 
 tioned, and there were plenty more of the 
 same species — youths with full pockets, but 
 empty heads, such as Gammon loved to bleed. 
 Sterne, indeed, gently hinted that this class 
 was scarcely receiving fair attention, but the 
 Doctor promptly suppressed him, in his 
 good-bumoured yet decisive way. 
 
 Indeed, Sterne's greatest trouble was his 
 want of success in getting his chief to back 
 liim up. Having no means of enforcing 
 discipline himself, he had to appeal to the
 
 A FASHIONABLE CKAMMER. 37 
 
 Doctor, and invariably with the same result. 
 He always received a smiling promise, which 
 was never meant to be fulfilled. 
 
 " There's Plantagenet drinking in the 
 Lark's-Nest again," he announced one after- 
 noon. 
 
 '^ Bless the boy ! What would his ducal 
 mamma say if she were to hear of it ? " 
 
 '' Give him a whipping, I should think, 
 and send him supperless to bed," replied 
 Sterne, with a grim smile. 
 
 *'And very proper treatment too — very 
 proper treatment. But how do you know ? " 
 
 " Gammon told me." The butcher belonged 
 to the Doctor's Intelligence Department. 
 
 '* Ah ! an excellent man is Gammon. Why 
 don't you sometimes pop into the Lark's- 
 Nest yourself ? " His eyes, scarcely repress- 
 ing a humorous twinkle, were bent keenly 
 on the other. " That would scare them 
 away." 
 
 '' Because I don't wish to have a monopoly 
 of all the dirty work.'" 
 
 The Doctor laughed. " I must speak to
 
 38 THE OLD ^DAM. 
 
 Plantagenet," said he., bolting off to avoid 
 further discussion. 
 
 He kept his word, however : he did speak 
 to Plantagenet ; in fact, he gave him a 
 holiday to attend the meet of the Stilbury 
 Harriers. 
 
 When it has been ordained that a child is 
 to be punished for its misdeeds in the past, 
 and rewarded with a slice of bread and jam 
 to teach it virtue for the future, there is 
 sometimes a little rivalry between the parents 
 as-to who shall administer the whipping and 
 who the jam. It will be seen that the 
 Doctor's ingenuity enabled him to avoid this 
 difficulty ; the donation of the whipping 
 always fell to the lot of Sterne, while he 
 himself presented the jam. Naturally, this 
 did not add to the former's popularity ; but, 
 on the other hand, the latter acquired the 
 reputation of being a very jolly old fellow. 
 
 When Mrs. Copingstone died, Sterne had 
 been in Puddleton nearly eight years, and it 
 was largely due to his tireless energy that the 
 establishment had been so successful. Six
 
 A FASHIONABLE CKAMMER. 39 
 
 months later, however, there arose something 
 very like a rebellion against the strictness of 
 his discipline. The pupils complained that 
 he wished to treat them as if they were still 
 boys — which, in fact, most of them were — 
 and they made a powerful appeal to the 
 Doctor. It was an awkward dilemma, for he 
 could not afford to quarrel with either party. 
 He got out of it by privately assuring each 
 in turn of his hearty sympathy. 
 
 The incident taught him one lesson. He 
 felt that if he would maintain his numbers at 
 their present level, he must supplement his 
 staff with another tutor, whose popularity 
 should counterbalance Sterne's unpopularity. 
 Around the man upon whom his choice 
 eventually fell there hung an air of mystery 
 that kept Puddleton in a state of curious 
 excitement for many a month to come.
 
 40 THE OLD ADAM. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 MR. VALENTINE GAUNT. 
 
 In the Doctor's opinion, it was bad form to 
 advertise for pupils ; and worse than this, it 
 was bad policy, for it amounted to a confession 
 of weakness. No such disadvantage was 
 attached to an advertisement for a tutor. 
 But it was cheaper to have recourse to an 
 educational agent, whose fees came out of 
 the pocket, not of the employer, but of the 
 employed. 
 
 The agent to whom he went on this 
 occasion frankly admitted that he had the 
 very man to suit Dr. Copingstone. No 
 matter how polygonal the hole, these agents 
 are never at a loss for a block to fit it with 
 mathematical precision. In this case the 
 block was Mr. Valentine Gaunt.
 
 MR. VALENTINE GAUNT. 41 
 
 "He has been strongly recommended to 
 us," said the agent, using the plural reck- 
 lessly ; "is a first-rate English scholar ; 
 speaks French like a Parisian ; moral character 
 irreproachable. Shall we send him down to 
 you, Dr. Copingstone ? " 
 
 He spoke rather like a horse-dealer anxious 
 to get rid of a notorious screw. The finish- 
 ing touch about the moral character was 
 doubtless intended to impress the clerical 
 mind; it came in capitally at the end, a full 
 stop, as it were, to any cavil. The Doctor 
 thoroughly understood it, but gave the 
 required permission, thinking that he might 
 as well see this remarkable tutor. 
 
 The next day Mr. Valentine G-aunt whirled 
 up to the door of Puddleton Eectory with all 
 the assumption of a duke. It soon turned 
 out that he also knew the value of appearances. 
 He brought with him two testimonials. 
 
 Roughly speaking, compositions of this 
 sort may be divided into two classes : the 
 first, brief, official, and incisive ; the second, 
 friendly, and almost intimate in tone. Mr.
 
 42 THE OLD ADAM. 
 
 Yalentine Gaunt's testimonials were fair 
 specimens of both styles. 
 
 The first ran thus : — 
 
 " Mr. Yalentine Gaunt has assisted me in 
 the education of my pupils for the last five 
 years, and it gives me the greatest pleasure 
 to testify to his attainments and his ability in 
 teaching. His acquaintance with English 
 literature is unusually extensive ; he is well 
 read in natural science, and his French is 
 excellent. Besides having the art of impart- 
 ing his knowledge to others and being a 
 good disciplinarian, he has the power of 
 gaining the confidence of his pupils by a 
 kind manner and a readiness to enter into 
 their amusements. His moral character is 
 without reproach. 
 
 " F. DuBARRi (Professor). 
 
 " 13, MoniTis Street, Bloomsbury." 
 
 It may be difficult to detect the His- 
 trionic Professor's hand in the foregoing 
 document, but this is a mere detail. It is 
 a peculiarity of many testimonials that they
 
 MR. VALENTINE GAUNT. 43 
 
 show none of the usual signs of the writer's 
 individuality. 
 
 The second of those submitted to the 
 Doctor was as follows : — 
 
 "Dear Mr. Gaunt, 
 
 "I am delighted at having the 
 opportunity of testifying to your knowledge 
 of French. Indeed, I may say that I have 
 never met an Englishman who speaks or 
 writes my language better than you do, and, 
 as you know, my experience has been a wide 
 one. Will you permit me to add that I con- 
 sider your intellectual attainments to be far 
 above the average, and that I feel quite sure 
 you will honourably, intelligently, and to the 
 best of your ability, discharge whatever trust 
 may be committed to you. 
 
 " Accept my best wishes, and believe me 
 to be, 
 
 " Dear Mr. Gaunt, 
 
 " Yery sincerely yours, 
 "F. Dubois, 
 
 " Professor of the French Language 
 and Literature."
 
 44 THE OLD ADAM. 
 
 This testimonial seems entitled to respect, 
 though it afterwards appeared that Mr. 
 Valentine Gaunt spoke the '' French of 
 Stratford-atte-Bow " — most villainous stuff. 
 
 The signature had a strange effect upon the 
 Doctor : an effect that the other was quick to 
 perceive and turn to his own advantage. He 
 did not exactly dictate terms, yet those that 
 he demanded and received far exceeded his 
 wildest expectations. This took place in the 
 end of May, and by the beginning of June, 
 Mr. Valentine Gaunt was fairly established 
 in the village. 
 
 Although he soon became a favourite, his 
 appearance was scarcely prepossessing. He 
 was rather tall, round-shouldered, yet power- 
 fully built, and with a tendency to corpulence. 
 The hair had almost deserted the top of his 
 head, but he had grey whiskers and moustache 
 of the mutton-chop species. His cheek-bones 
 were prominent, his brows dark and bushy, 
 and his forehead was unusually heavy. In 
 his manner he was extremely deliberate, 
 dropping out his words one by one, in a
 
 MR. VALENTINE GAUNT. 45 
 
 harsh grating voice ; and when he walked, 
 each foot hovered in the air as if waiting to 
 ascertain the safety of the ground. 
 
 The house assigned to him was situated 
 between those of the village doctor and the 
 lawyer. It was called the Hive, and stood 
 in a good-sized garden. The " parlour- 
 boarders" were transferred to his charge, for 
 the Doctor felt it desirable to clear them all 
 out of the Rectory. Nellie had attained an 
 age at which the heart goes its own dis- 
 obedient way, without heed to warnings or 
 remonstrances, so it was only prudent to take 
 timely precautions. 
 
 Mr. Yalentine Gaunt was not long in ascer- 
 taining on which side his bread was buttered. 
 
 In order to stand high in the Doctor's 
 favour, he saw that he must go hand-in-glove 
 with the pupils. Nothing was easier : he 
 had merely to get them to work, but, other- 
 wise, to let them do exactly as they chose. 
 By following his '' method," as he called it, 
 he transformed the Hive into a Liberty Hall. 
 He permitted smoking at all his lectures, the
 
 46 THE OLD ADAM. 
 
 Professor himself leading the way with a 
 large meerschaum pipe ; and as the Lark's- 
 Nest was very handy, the thirsty pupils could 
 just pop over there for an interval of light 
 refreshment. As a natural consequence, Mr. 
 Valentine Gaunt became exceedingly popular, 
 and there was a general stampede from the 
 Hut to the Hive. 
 
 If Leonard Sterne's position had been bad 
 enough before, it was now almost unendurable. 
 He had been striving to do his duty, not only 
 as a tutor but also as a clergyman, and by 
 dint of kindness and perseverance had suc- 
 ceeded in establishing a better spirit among 
 many of the pupils, only to find his work 
 completely demolished by the new-comer. 
 Unless the tide were speedily stemmed he 
 himself might be swept away. Yet what 
 could he do ? Threaten to resign ? He was 
 sincerely attached to the Doctor, in spite of 
 his petty trickery ; he would have been very 
 loth to leave Puddleton, especially at a time 
 when he felt that his services were more than 
 ever needed there ; and, after all, he was but
 
 MR. VALENTINE GAUNT. 47 
 
 a poor man who could not afford to give up 
 his present high salary if he could con- 
 scientiously retain it. No ; he decided that 
 resignation must be his last resource. 
 
 After several ineffectual appeals to Mr. 
 Yalentine Glaunt, who merely laughed at 
 what he styled " grandmotherly legislation," 
 and trotted out his method, Sterne saw that 
 the only thing for him to do was to lay the 
 matter before the Doctor. Yet here, again, 
 he was beset by difficulties. In his own 
 heart he was conscious that he was acting 
 with singleness of purpose ; but would others 
 think so ? Would not they ascribe it to 
 jealousy of a more successful tutor, and, by 
 so doing, defeat the object that he had in 
 view ? 
 
 It must here be explained that, as each 
 tutor received a capitation fee for every pupil 
 in his house, popularity brought more than 
 mere numbers, which, in themselves, would 
 have been of no great benefit — it brought 
 money. The pupils had but to express a 
 wish as to which house they would live in
 
 48 THE OLD ADAM. 
 
 and the Doctor at once granted it ; so that 
 they migrated hither and thither, without 
 any regard to the feelings of the tutors con- 
 cerned. 
 
 Sterne, then, would lay himself open to the 
 charge of trying to check the migration from 
 the Hut to the Hive. Probably, also, as our 
 most conscientious acts are the very ones that 
 are most liable to be misconstrued, it would 
 be said that he wished to ruin his rival, and 
 drive him out of the place. He had carefully 
 considered all this, but it did not deter him. 
 Though he admitted that he heartily disliked 
 Mr. Yalentine Gi-aunt, he would have been 
 the last to wish him harm. 
 
 " It's very bad, Sterne, very bad," said the 
 Doctor, when the matter had been laid before 
 him. " Gaunt really ought to know better. 
 What am I to do ? " 
 
 " It is for yon to lead, Dr. Copingstone, 
 and for me to follow," replied Sterne, who 
 was not going to have another burden laid 
 on his shoulders. 
 
 " I suppose Plantagenet ought to go," said
 
 ME. VALENTINE GAUNT. 49 
 
 the Doctor thoughtfully. " He's the ring- 
 leader in every piece of mischief." 
 
 " The lad is good enough at bottom. He 
 only wants ballast. It is Mr. Gaunt's duty 
 to keep him in order." 
 
 " So it is, Sterne, so it is. I quite agree 
 with you there. But, you see, my friend, he 
 hasn't your power of maintaining discipline. 
 With your example before him, he must learn 
 in time, for he is a capital tutor. Just look 
 at the marks his pupils got in this last 
 examination ! It was wonderful— wonderful ! " 
 
 But Sterne brought him back to the point 
 with — " What do you intend to do ? " 
 
 " Oh, I'll speak to Mr. Gaunt at once. 
 The card-playing and drinking must be 
 stopped, of course. We " — Sterne rather 
 winced at being included in this cool way — ■ 
 *' must teach these young rascals that we are 
 not to be trifled with. We have been giving 
 them too much rope, Sterne. However, I'll 
 
 pull them up sharply now. By the way " 
 
 And then he daslied off to another subject. 
 
 It is scarcely necessary to say that nothing 
 
 VOL. I. E
 
 50 THE OLD ADAM. 
 
 came of this conversation. In order to 
 appease Sterne, the Doctor did go so fur as 
 to make a slight fuss, but he was very careful 
 to let its unreality be seen. And so matters 
 went on in the old way. 
 
 In fact, the rivalry between the two tutors 
 suited his purpose capitally. He played the 
 one against the other, pointing out to Gaunt 
 the high marks that So-and-so had obtained 
 in Latin or Greek, and to Sterne what another 
 pupil had gained in French or English. The 
 consequence was that each did a vast amount 
 of gratuitous work, lest he should lose the 
 Doctor's favour. 
 
 They were also useful in another way. 
 When Mrs. Heavisides — who had delivered 
 a lecture in Exeter Hall, and was reputed to 
 be a very religious w^oman — came to Puddle- 
 ton to visit her steady-going son, she was 
 received by the Doctor and the Eev. Leonard 
 Sterne ; but when the Earl of Belgravia, who 
 ^vas generally considered a trifle fast, arrived 
 on a similar mission, he was met by the 
 Doctor and Mr. Valentine Gaunt. In the
 
 MR. VALENTINE GAUNT. 51 
 
 latter case a preponderance of the clerical 
 element might have been considered objec- 
 tionable, so a layman was introduced to talk 
 to his lordship on sporting matters, should 
 time hang heavy on his hands. It was a 
 pretty Httle arrangement, and worked well. 
 
 But after a while, it became evident that 
 the balance was o-ettino- verv uneven ; that 
 Sterne's influence was falling and Mr. Yalen- 
 tine Gaunt's rising. Indeed, the latter's 
 power over the Doctor, who had hitherto 
 been a veritable despot, was so remarkable 
 that it was the cause of much curious specu- 
 lation. Some ascribed it to his success with 
 his pupils, and not altogether without reason, 
 for the fact was undeniable, though it only 
 made the affair more mysterious. 
 
 It was very doubtful whether Mr. Valentine 
 Gaunt, notwithstanding his testimonials, had 
 been engaged in tuition before his arrival at 
 Puddleton. The pupils were not slow in dis- 
 covering that his sole stock-in-trade consisted 
 of a slight knowledge of Shakespeare and a 
 large knowledge of the world. But with
 
 52 THE OLD ADAM. 
 
 these and an overweening confidence in liira- 
 self lie started in business, and prospered. 
 The nest cannot be feathered without a 
 certain amount of trouble, unless, indeed, an 
 old one be appropriated, and then as often 
 as not it is a misfit. Mr. Yalentine Gaunt 
 knew this, and worked hard, until at length 
 he had mastered his subjects. As they mostly 
 consisted of English authors — Chaucer, Shake- 
 speare, Bacon, and the other favourites of the 
 Civil Service Commissioners — it was not a 
 very wonderful achievement ; but the same 
 cannot be said of his accuracy in foretelling 
 the questions set in French. Here his 
 success was simply amazing. Of course, the 
 crammer who knows his business can usually 
 predict the general nature of a paper if only 
 he can learn beforehand the name of the 
 examiner and study his style ; but, as we 
 have seen, Mr. Yalentine Gaunt did not 
 know his business — he had to learn it ; and 
 to the very last his French was atrocious. 
 What, then, was the secret of his success ? 
 It was a puzzle to everybody.
 
 MR. VALENTINE GAUNT. 53 
 
 Many held it to be the cause of his in- 
 fluence over the Doctor, though the more 
 cautious declared that there was more in the 
 matter than appeared on the surface. On 
 one point, however, they were unanimous — 
 that sooner or later a collision between the 
 rival tutors was inevitable. 
 
 The first shock occurred early in September. 
 
 Plantagenet, Heavisides, and a tutor named 
 Jenkins drove over to the Cygnet, at Still- 
 bury, and lunched there. It could scarcely 
 be said that they drank to excess ; at any 
 rate, the two pupils did not ; but Jenkins, 
 being unaccustomed to anything of the sort, 
 was rather inclined to be free and easy on 
 his return to Puddleton. This reached 
 Sterne's ears — as nearly everything did, for 
 there was a very obnoxious system of 
 espionage in vogue — and he promptly de- 
 manded the dismissal of the offender. Mr. 
 Valentine Gaunt, on the other hand, declared 
 that it w^ould be altogether preposterous to 
 visit a mere peccadillo with such a severe 
 penalty. The Doctor held the scales, which
 
 54 THE OLD ADAM. 
 
 were plainly inclining towards the latter, 
 when out spoke Sterne. 
 
 '' Dr. Copingstone," he said firmly, " if 
 you allow Jenkins to remain here after this 
 disgraceful occurrence, you leave me no alter- 
 native — I must place my resignation in your 
 hands. I could not work with a colleague 
 who had given way to intemperance ; and 
 a want of harmony between your tutors 
 would be destructive to your interests, and 
 also to those of the pupils. I say nothing 
 aliput the moral side of the question ; surely 
 that is unnecessary. You know as well as 
 I do how bad " 
 
 " Allow me, Mr. Sterne," interrupted Mr. 
 Valentine Gaunt. " My method " 
 
 But Sterne waved him back. 
 
 " Let Dr. Copingstone first decide this 
 question," he said. ''Am I to go? or is 
 Jenkins to go ? One of us must." 
 
 " Jenkins shall go," declared the Doctor. 
 
 It was a victory for Sterne, but to win it 
 he had been obliged to fall back upon his 
 reserves. He felt that he had good cause to 
 dread the future.
 
 ME. VALENTINE GAUNT. 55 
 
 Two angry spots studded Mr. Valentine 
 Gaunt's cheeks as he walked back to the 
 Hive. It was the first check that he had yet 
 received, so he felt it all the more keenly. 
 That his rival had been forced to threaten 
 resignation in order to carry his point, gave 
 him but little satisfaction. He had been 
 defeated ; and that was all he could think 
 about. But the defeat taught him one lesson 
 — that he must strengthen his position before 
 he ventured upon another contest. And to 
 this he devoted all his energies.
 
 56 THE OLD ADAM. 
 
 CHAPTER lY. 
 
 AN" INQUISITIVE LANDLADY. 
 
 " I SUPPOSE you will give me my pencil- 
 case," said Arnold Oressingham to the pawn- 
 braker. He was panting a little, for he had 
 just returned from an unsuccessful chase after 
 the man who had stolen his purse. 
 
 " Can you identify it ? " 
 
 "It has the monogram 'A. C engraved 
 on tbe end. Is that enough ? " 
 
 " Quite. I know the thief, and shall put 
 the matter in the hands of the police. Ah, 
 yes, your watch and chain. Nine-seven-six 
 was the sum I mentioned. Will that suit 
 you? 
 
 " It must, if you will give no more." 
 
 " And the pencil-case ? "
 
 AN INQUISITIVE LANDLADY. 57 
 
 Arnold hesitated a moment, and then said, 
 " No, I'll keep it." 
 
 He put it in his pocket, and, when he had 
 received his money, left the shop. 
 
 He returned to his lodgings. As he was 
 going up the stairs, he met Mrs. Smith, his 
 landlady, coming down. It was not the first 
 time that it had happened, and the frequency 
 of the coincidence struck hitn as rather 
 curious. Although he spoke to her in passing, 
 she made no reply. This again he felt to 
 be matter for wonderment, a taciturn land- 
 lady being certainly a novelty. 
 
 Yet the explanation is simple enough. 
 Mrs. Smith was naturally inquisitive, and as 
 she knew nothing about her lodger, who had 
 given her no references, his evasion of the 
 many questions she had put to him had 
 aroused her suspicions. To her mind, reti- 
 cence could mean nothing more nor less than 
 guilt, and she was the more strongly con- 
 vinced of this since he had introduced a 
 foreigner into the house. As a loyal subject, 
 therefore, she had taken upon herself to look
 
 58 THE OLD ADAM. 
 
 into the matter. Her investigations bad led 
 to one remarkable discovery : Arnold bad 
 torn tbe labels off bis luggage^ and tbe scraps, 
 so small tbat tbere was no possibility of 
 piecing tbem, lay bebind tbe tinsel-paper in 
 tbe grate. After tbis tbere could be no 
 doubt tbat be was a criminal of some sort. 
 In tbe interests of justice sbe proceeded to 
 examine bis pockets. Tbey were empty. 
 Alas ! bow often does tbe groper after trutli 
 meet witb tbe same result ? Still, not alto- 
 getber discouraged, sbe went to bis desk. It 
 was locked. Tbis really was exasperating, 
 and tbe worst of it was tbat none of ber keys 
 would fit tbe lock. Sbe carried ber re- 
 searcbes a great deal fartber tban it is neces- 
 sary to mention bere, but tbey all tended in 
 disappointment and failure. 
 
 Arnold knew notbing of ber proceedings 
 until tbe following morning, wben tbey were 
 brought home to him in a very unpleasant 
 way. 
 
 He had somehow or other got an idea into 
 his head tbat a knowledge of Shakespeare
 
 AN INQUISITIVE LANDLADY. 59 
 
 * 
 
 was the speediest road to success on the 
 stage. He might have derived it from the 
 Histrionic Professor, or perhaps some earlier 
 authority; but whatever the source, he put 
 it into practice with unusual animation. 
 
 With a formidable looking sword-cane in 
 his hand, he was reciting Macbeth's soliloquy 
 for the third or fourth time, when there 
 sounded a heavy footstep on the stairs. 
 Immediately afterwards the door was thrown 
 open, and there appeared the stalwart form 
 of a policeman, backed up by Mrs. Smith and 
 her slatternly servant, peeping one on each 
 side. If the two women wore an air of 
 triumph, they were clearly ready to shriek 
 and run at a moment's notice. 
 
 The policeman grasped his staff and called 
 upon Arnold to surrender ; which he did by 
 laying down his sword-cane. He then pro- 
 ceeded to explain that he was studying for 
 the stage, and had merely been reciting 
 Shakespeare ; but his explanation was re- 
 ceived with general incredulity. Few persons 
 care to acknowledge that they have dis-
 
 60 THE OLD ADAM. 
 
 covered a mare's-nest, and least of all a 
 policeman. Arnold was therefore put through 
 a searching examination, and his answers 
 were considered anything but satisfactory. 
 He would not say where he came from ; why 
 he had torn the labels off his luggage ; who 
 were his friends. In short, he absolutely 
 declined to give any information about him- 
 self. 
 
 " Then," said the policeman, not without 
 a certain grim satisfaction, " you must accom- 
 pany me to the station." 
 
 Here was another awkward dilemma. It 
 seemed fated that Arnold should fall into the 
 hands of the police. This man, he felt, was 
 particularly stupid and obstinate ; he could 
 only hope that the inspector would be more 
 intelligent. 
 
 The inspector in charge of the police- 
 station turned out to be a red-headed man, 
 with a very irritable temper. He was even 
 more implacable than the policeman. It was 
 impossible, he said, that any one should be 
 so strangely reticent unless he had something
 
 AN INQUISITIVE LANDLADY. 61 
 
 to conceal. Arnold had only liimself to 
 blame for the suspicions against his character ; 
 would he give a reference as to his respect- 
 ability ? EememberiDg M. Dubarri's offer 
 on a previous occasion, Arnold determined 
 to avail himself of it. A messenger was 
 accordingly sent off to the Professor's address. 
 
 The police-station was a cold, dismal place, 
 unprovided with books or papers of any 
 kind. Arnold pointed out the deficiency. 
 He was one of those tiresome fellows who 
 will persist in saying the most irritating 
 things, yet so gravely that it is impossible to 
 tell when they are in earnest. As the 
 inspector, who was busy writing, took no 
 notice of the remark, Arnold went on to 
 suggest tliat a cushion for his chair would 
 be acceptable. This time he was requested 
 to hold his tongue. Whereupon lie drew out 
 a case of cigarettes, and politely offered one 
 to the inspector, who refused it with a curt 
 intimation that smoking was strictly for- 
 bidden on the premises. 
 
 Presently a prisoner was led in between
 
 62 THE OLD ADAM. 
 
 two policemen. He was a stont, coarse- 
 featured man, with a florid complexion and 
 a red nose, and his general appearance had a 
 snggestioii of the turf. He gave a sHght 
 start at seeing Arnold, and immediately 
 turned his back on him. 
 
 '' Prisoner's name ? " asked the inspector, 
 pen in hand. 
 
 " John Martingale." 
 
 " Charge ? " 
 
 " Robbery — a gold pencil-case." 
 
 Here Arnold began to take a greater 
 interest in the proceedings. 
 
 " On whose information ? " demanded the 
 inspector. 
 
 " Mr. Gilbert's, pawnbroker." 
 
 '' Anything else ? " 
 
 "No, sir." 
 
 " Yes," said Arnold from his chair. " I'll 
 thank Mr. John Martingale to return the 
 purse he borrowed from me." 
 
 A dead silence followed, every one turning 
 round to stare at Arnold. After a while the 
 inspector began —
 
 AN INQUISITIVE LANDLADY. 63 
 
 " Do I understand you " 
 
 " Can't say. That man stole my purse. 
 There is plain English for you." 
 
 The inspector had come to tlie conclusion 
 that Arnold was slightly demented. So 
 instead of resenting his unofficial language, 
 he asked merely — 
 " When ? " 
 
 " Three nights ago, at the pit entrance to 
 the Parnassus. This," producing it, " is the 
 stolen pencil-case that was in the purse. 
 Mr. Gilbert returned it to me." 
 
 In the end, the prisoner was searched and 
 the missing purse found in his pocket. It 
 was a slice of luck that Arnold certainly had 
 not anticipated. But as he resohitely declined 
 to prosecute, he was now regarded with 
 greater suspicion than ever. What was the 
 objection ? Expense ? Nonsense ; the ex- 
 pense would be a mere trifle. He could not 
 afford to waste even a mere trifle. But a prose- 
 cution in the interests of the community was 
 not waste. To which Arnold replied that the 
 community was able to take care of itself.
 
 64 THE OLD ADAM. 
 
 " Why should I be its champion ? " he 
 asked. " Because I have been unfortunate ? " 
 
 No answer from the inspector, who was 
 examining the contents of the purse. He 
 drew out a cheque. 
 
 " Hullo ! what's this ? " he asked, looking 
 at Arnold with quick suspicion. 
 
 At this moment M. Dubarri entered.
 
 ( 65 ) 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 AN ALARMIXG DISCOVERY. 
 
 " Two love, and my service,'* said Philip 
 Strathclyde, standing with uplifted racquet 
 close to the laurels iu the Rectory garden. 
 
 The next moment the ball went whizzino^ 
 over the net. Hebe Pike never stirred as it 
 flew past her. She would no more liave 
 thought of returning it than of playing 
 skittles with the stars and comets. 
 
 " I detest your overhand service," she said. 
 
 " Fifteen love," laughed Philip. " I never 
 do anything underhand. Miss Pike." 
 
 Again the ball flew on its way like a 
 rocket. It was scooped into the air, and fell 
 flir away from the court. 
 
 " Bother ! " exclaimed Mildred Strathclyde, 
 
 VOL. I. F
 
 66 THE OLD ADAM. 
 
 a tall, graceful girl, not unlike her cousin. 
 " I do wish you would send me something I 
 can hit, Philip." 
 
 " Thirty love. I have never been able to 
 find out what that is." 
 
 " Something soft, and not too high, and 
 not too low," suggested Hebe. 
 
 " Do you wish to win ? " he asked. 
 
 " Certainly," replied both of the opponents. 
 
 *' And you, Miss Copingstone ? " he said to 
 his pretty partner. 
 >* Certainly, Mr. Strathclyde." 
 
 " Then I must do the best for my own 
 side." 
 
 And he, accordingly, rattled off the game. 
 
 The garden was a quaint, old-fashioned 
 place, with flower-beds cut into all manner of 
 curious shapes, box-trees resembling peacocks 
 and strange birds, mythological and original, 
 a profusion of sweet-williams, hollyhocks, and 
 cabbage roses ; and a broken sun-dial at the 
 bottom of the lawn. Behind the ivy-clad 
 Rectory were gnarled old fruit trees, and 
 beyond was an excellent kitchen garden,
 
 AN ALARMING DISCOVERY. 67 
 
 separated from Camelback only by a single 
 meadow in which stood Puddleton Mill. 
 
 The tennis-ground was an innovation, of 
 course. It had been originally used for 
 croquet ; but being just a nice length, and 
 surrounded by a wall of laurels on everv 
 side, except where it touched the Rectory, it 
 suited its present purpose admirably. At any 
 rate, the two cousins seemed to think so, for 
 they often walked over from the Manor to 
 play there. 
 
 It had long been an understood thing that 
 Philip was to marry Mildred, and so to 
 succeed to the squirearchy. It had been his 
 uncle's last wish ; Mrs. Strathclyde always 
 spoke of it as definitely settled : and so it 
 was generally considered. Perhaps the only 
 persons not consulted in this convenient 
 arrangement were the young people them- 
 selves, and they certainly behaved to one 
 another more like brother and sister than 
 affianced lovers. Indeed, it could not well 
 have been otherwise ; they had lived together 
 from childhood, and in features, manner, and
 
 68 THE OLD ADAM. 
 
 character the resemblance between tliem was 
 so great that love seemed out of the question. 
 
 On the other hand, if any one had been 
 watching the game, he could scarcely have 
 helped seeing that there was something more 
 between Philip and Nellie than mere friend- 
 ship. It showed in their looks, their tones, 
 their smiles, their blushes ; they both ap- 
 peared strangely happy, and yet not altogether 
 at their ease. Hebe Pike, whose eyes were 
 as sharp as needles, noticed that Philip never 
 took the ball from Nellie's racquet, but 
 always from her hand, and this struck her 
 as a very significant circumstance. 
 
 '' A love game," he declared, stealing a sly 
 glance at his partner. 
 
 " A love game, was it ? " said Mr. Yalen- 
 tine Gaunt, coming from behind the laurels 
 in his cat-like way. He dragged out the 
 words to an inordinate length, and his almost 
 sneering tones not a little disconcerted Philip 
 and Nellie. " If any one is tired," he went 
 on, '• I shall be glad to play." 
 
 " We have just finished," said Nellie.
 
 AN ALARMING DISCOVERY. 69 
 
 *'But surely you are not going to stop 
 yet?" 
 
 " I am," replied Mildred. " I must be 
 getting home now." 
 
 " And I promised to be back at four," said 
 Hebe. 
 
 " And I am rather tired," added Nellie. 
 
 Mr. Valentine Gaunt looked exceedingly 
 annoyed. After having taken the trouble 
 to put on flannels and shoes, it was very 
 vexatious to be cut out of the game in this 
 way. 
 
 ** I trust," he said, " that I have not dis- 
 turbed your game." 
 
 " The suggestion is entirely your own, Mr. 
 Gaunt," retorted Nellie severely. 
 
 She took Mildred by the hand, and the 
 two girls were going off together, when he 
 stopped them with — 
 
 " Well, if you really won't play, I have 
 something to tell you. It's not my method 
 to worry any one unnecessarily, so I had 
 resolved to wait till you had finished playing. 
 Arnold has never arrived at Oxford."
 
 70 THE OLD ADAM. 
 
 It is no wonder that Nellie looked terrified, 
 for her brother had started for the University 
 nearly a week ago. 
 
 "What! " she cried. 
 
 " Your father has just received a telegram 
 from Arnold's tutor, asking what has become 
 of him." 
 
 There was a piteous look in the blue eyes 
 as she faltered out, " Can he have been — can 
 there have been a railway accident ? " 
 
 '' Oh dear, no." 
 
 She stopped to hear no more. Without 
 another word, she darted through the laurels, 
 and so into the house. 
 
 " Probably," announced Mr. Valentine 
 Graunt to the other three, ''he is only having 
 a lark in London." 
 
 ''You don't know Arnold, if you say that, 
 Mr. Gaunt," cried Philip hotly. 
 
 " Perhaps my knowledge of him is more 
 intimate than your own, Strathclyde." This 
 was true enough, for he and Arnold had been 
 much together during the last few months. 
 
 " And you think he has not come to any
 
 AN ALARMINa DISCOVERY. 71 
 
 harm ? " inquired Hebe Pike, with ill-con- 
 cealed anxiety. 
 
 It was rumoured that she was actually 
 engaged to Arnold Copingstone, but that the 
 Doctor refused to sanction the engagement. 
 The daughter of a pettifogging country 
 lawyer, forsooth ! He looked a good deal 
 higher for his son than this, 
 
 " What do you mean by harm. Miss 
 Pike?" 
 
 '' Do you think anything has happened to 
 him?" 
 
 " Nothing worse than what he calls a 
 spree," replied Mr. Valentine Gaunt, carefully 
 watching the effect of his words upon her. 
 " He had plenty of money, for the doctor 
 gave him a big cheque. Before that is 
 finished, the prodigal will turn up at Oxford. 
 Every dog has his day : far better when a 
 puppy than when it can do any real harm 
 with its tusks. For all that " — he laid an 
 emphatic forefinger in the palm of his hand — 
 " even if Arnold Copingstone be a little wild 
 now, and we don't know that he is, he will
 
 72 THE OLD ADAM. 
 
 grow up a very worthy man." With this 
 remarkable utterance, he left her. 
 
 The news was soon known to everybody in 
 the village, chiefly through the agency of 
 Joseph Haply, who united in his portly 
 person the varied vocations of grocer, wine 
 merchant, hardware retailer, parish clerk, 
 and postmaster. In the latter capacity he 
 had unrivalled advantages of gaining infor- 
 mation. Miss Haply manipulated the tele- 
 grams, so it is easy to see how the worthy 
 postmaster became acquainted with Arnold 
 Copingstone's disappearance, concerning which 
 the wildest rumours were afloat before 
 evening. 
 
 In due time they reached the ears of 
 Leonard Sterne. 
 
 Whose brain is not sometimes compelled to 
 entertain unwelcome guests ? If man were a 
 mere machine, as some would have us believe, 
 how is it that he is at the mercy of thoughts 
 which come unbidden and unprepared for, 
 and are, in many cases, uttterly opposed to 
 his nature ? It was one of these thoughts
 
 AN ALARMING DISCOVERY. 73 
 
 that now entered Sterne's head : '' Gaunt is at 
 the bottom of this ! " Like a flash of lightning 
 it was upon him, and his face reddened witli 
 shame for himself. He knew it was a 
 thoroughly baseless suspicion ; it was unjust ; 
 it was unworthy of him ; and yet he had to 
 struggle against it as against a human foe. 
 
 Fortunately he had just received a new 
 book, and, by its aid, he was able to get rid 
 of this distressing thought. To most of us 
 a Clerical Directory would not be a very 
 interesting book ; but Sterne found it so. 
 He had never possessed one before, and he 
 was anxious to see how some of his old 
 college friends had fared. 
 
 He was sitting in his study at the time — a 
 pleasant room looking out upon the lawn, 
 with Camelback in the background. There 
 was a well-worn briar-root pipe in his mouth, 
 for he was a great smoker, except during 
 Lent, when he rigorously abstained from 
 tobacco and every other luxury. As he sat 
 at his writing-table and turned over the 
 pages of his new Directory, it occurred to
 
 74 THE OLD ADAM. 
 
 him to see what was said about the Doctor. 
 Great was his surprise at finding that the list 
 did not contain the name of Copingstone. 
 Thinking that it might have been displaced, 
 he hunted right through the letter C ; then 
 he laid down his pipe and turned to the end. 
 Perhaps it might be among the corrigenda. 
 But no ; his search was fruitless : the name 
 of the Kev. Claude Cyprian Copingstone, 
 D.D., Rector of Puddleton, was not in the 
 book. 
 
 It was a singular omission, Sterne felt, the 
 Doctor being a very punctilious man in 
 everything connected with his own dignity. 
 This was one of the things about which he 
 would be most particular. As the Doctor's 
 secretary, Sterne resolved to speak about it 
 at once, for it would be his duty to get it 
 rectified. 
 
 He was putting on his hat, when his wife 
 — a pleasant little bird-like woman — entered 
 the room. 
 
 '* Leonard, do you think Mr. Gaunt knows 
 anything about Arnold ? " she asked.
 
 AN ALAEMING DISCOVERY. 75 
 
 It was she who had told him about the 
 young man's disappearance, so she was 
 merely resuming the conversation. 
 
 " What makes you ask such a question ? " 
 he gasped. He felt just as if a blow had 
 struck him. 
 
 ^^Why, Leonard, I have not frightened 
 you, surely." 
 
 "Not frightened me, dear, but it's a 
 horrible accusation to bring against any one." 
 
 " Well, I detest Mr. Gaunt. Oh, you need 
 not tell me it is uncharitable, for feelings will 
 have their own way. He and Arnold were 
 great friends latterly, and now I hear he 
 doesn't care a bit, and says he is having a 
 lark in London." 
 
 He gave a deep sigh of relief. At first he 
 had feared that she really had some plausible 
 reason for her suspicion, some hint thrown 
 out by one of the villagers, who often gave 
 her a good deal of miscellaneous information. 
 
 " You must get rid of that idea, Lucy," 
 said he, tenderly stroking his wife's hair. 
 " It is all my fault, I know. I should
 
 76 THE OLD ADAM. 
 
 never have told you of my dislike for Mr. 
 G-aunt." 
 
 " But I dislike him on my own account. 
 Who could like him ? His very face is 
 against him. He is so different from you in 
 every way." 
 
 *' There is not much resemblance between 
 a door-scraper and a chair, yet both have 
 their uses." 
 
 " Mr. Gaunt is certainly the door-scraper/' 
 she laughed, " for all the mud seems to go 
 naturally to him." 
 
 " And I am the chair, I suppose," added 
 he with a smile, " for I am continually being 
 sat on. But joking apart, Lucy, your sus- 
 picion of Gaunt is unjust. Will you promise 
 me to forget all about it ? " 
 
 " I'll try." 
 
 It is easy enough to resolve to forget a 
 thing ; but Leonard Sterne, as he w^alked up 
 to the Rectory, felt that both he and his wife 
 would have some difficulty in blotting out this 
 suspicion. He had almost mastered it when 
 her words had brought it back stronger than
 
 AN ALARMING DISCOVERY. 77 
 
 ever, and now it was a veritable giant to 
 grapple with. 
 
 He found the Doctor alone in his study, a 
 large handsome room, with one window 
 looking out upon the lawn and the other 
 upon the garden in front. The furniture 
 was of carved oak, and the upholstery red 
 morocco ; everything good, comfortable, and 
 not too new. There was a writing-table in 
 the centre, opposite the tiled grate ; books 
 occupied one wall, and pictures the other 
 three. The ornaments were few but expen- 
 sive, and the carpet was as soft and springy 
 as velvet. In fact, it was a very luxurious 
 study, well suited to impress visitors with 
 the fact that the Doctor was a successful 
 tutor. 
 
 " I have come to ask whether I can be of 
 any assistance to you ? " said Sterne. 
 
 " No, thank you, Sterne ; no, thank you," 
 replied the Doctor, wearily. 
 
 The loss of his son struck at the very root 
 of his ambition. It was a strange sight to 
 see this self-reliant man looking thoroughly
 
 78 THE OLD ADAM. 
 
 broken down in body and spirit. He was 
 sitting at the table, bis bead resting in bis 
 band. 
 
 ^' Can I make a searcb for you ? " Sterne 
 went on. " Tbe pupils could get on witbout 
 me for a day or two." 
 
 "No, tbank you, Sterne; no, tbank you. 
 You are very kind, but Gaunt bas been good 
 enough to start off to London for me." 
 
 Sterne winced at tbis ; be could not belp 
 wincing, tbougb be felt tbat be was once 
 more being ungenerous to bis rival. Tbe 
 time bad gone by wben be stood alone at tbe 
 Doctor's right band, and when not a thing 
 was done except by bis advice ; it remained 
 for him to adapt himself to these altered 
 circumstances. 
 
 " Can I do nothing, then ? " he asked. 
 
 " No, I think not, except arrange tbe work 
 for to-morrow. I should have started for 
 Oxford to-day, bad not the news arrived so 
 late. I can't think," he added, with sudden 
 emphasis, " what bas become of the boy, can 
 you ?
 
 AN ALARMING DISCOVERY. 79 
 
 " No, indeed, I can't." 
 
 The Doctor sighed, almost as if lie had 
 expected to receive a more satisfactory answer. 
 
 " Well, well," he said, " perhaps I shall 
 find out to-morrow. By the way, don't tell 
 the pupils of my intended absence." 
 
 " No," replied Sterne, with a smile ; " the 
 mice shall not hear of the cat's departure 
 until " 
 
 " They find out," added the Doctor, with a 
 brief return to his lighter manner. 
 
 He had a curious way of swearing his 
 tutors to secrecy, and then taking the pupils 
 into his confidence. It was one of his many 
 little dodges which, even in his trouble, he 
 could not depart from. 
 
 Sterne turned to the other object of his 
 visit. 
 
 " By some extraordinary negligence," he 
 said, " your name has been omitted from the 
 Clerical Directory. I suppose the fault rests 
 with the editor, or perhaps you forgot to fill 
 up the form. Shall I write about it ? " 
 
 " No, no ; I don't care about it at all,"
 
 80 THE OLD ADAM. 
 
 replied the Doctor, ratber brusquely. As if 
 conscious that some explanation was necessary, 
 he added, "It's too much like advertising, 
 you know, and I abominate anything of the 
 sort. In fact, it is low." 
 
 " But the bishops and archbishops " 
 
 "They do as they like; so do I. Don't 
 forget about my going to Oxford to-morrow." 
 
 He snatched up a pen, and began to write 
 with desperate energy. 
 
 It was impossible to misunderstand this 
 hint. Sterne retired, more puzzled than he 
 had ever been in his life before. Advertising 
 was palpably dragged in merely as an 
 excuse — a poor one, no doubt, but the best 
 that occurred at the moment. In fact, it was 
 a downright fib. This meant business of 
 some sort, for the Doctor was not the man to 
 utter such an nnclerical thing without an 
 object. Such conduct Sterne would have 
 considered most reprehensible in any one 
 else, but he had grown so accustomed to it in 
 the Doctor, that he had come to regard it 
 as mere playfulness. But why it had been
 
 AN ALAEMING DISCOYEEY. 81 
 
 resorted to now, was more than he could 
 explain. 
 
 Next morning, about ten o'^clock, the 
 Doctor's carriage drove empty through the 
 village. This was his ingenious method of 
 telling his pupils that he was going away, 
 and yet of pretending to deceive them for the 
 sake of the tutors. It was his constant 
 endeavour to make everybody believe that he 
 alone maintained discipline in the place, and 
 by incessantly dinning this into all around 
 him, he actually verified it. The pupils, 
 taking his word for it, no sooner heard of his 
 departure than they rushed headlong into 
 every kind of mischief, whicli delighted bim 
 not a little, for he regarded their disorderly 
 conduct in his absence as the highest testi- 
 monial to his ability. 
 
 Some of them were lolling about when the 
 carriage passed. Lord Ernest Plantagenet, 
 tired of geography, had come out to enjoy a 
 quiet cigar ; Yiscount Silverspoon, who had 
 made so many mistakes in spelling that he 
 had retired in disgust with the over-particular 
 
 VOL. I. G
 
 82 THE OLD ADAM. 
 
 professor of that subject, was engaged in the 
 seductive pursuit of badgering Gammon the 
 butcher; Wilfrid Merridale was giving an 
 amusing imitation of rustic manners ; and 
 steady-going old Heavisides, who hated 
 everything that was not sedentary, was 
 moored to a big meerschaum, and, with the 
 customary smile on his broad, good-natured 
 face, was strumming on a banjo, his constant 
 companion. 
 
 " He's off," exclaimed Plantagenet, point- 
 ing to the carriage. 
 
 " Sly old fox," murmured Heavisides, " and 
 thinks we don't know." 
 
 " Ha, ha ! let's do something," suggested 
 Silver spoon. 
 
 " Give him a tally-ho when he breaks 
 cover," said Merridale. 
 
 So the four of them started for the brow 
 of the hill beyond the village, whence they 
 oberved the Doctor's tall, thin, wiry figure 
 striding across the fields towards his carriage, 
 which had stopped for him. They waited 
 until he was safely in, and then gave him an 
 ear-splitting salute.
 
 AX ALAKMma DISCOVERY. 83 
 
 '^Gone away! Tally-ho !— tally-ho ! " to 
 which Plantagenet added a few "Hark 
 for'ards " on his own account. 
 
 The Doctor stood up and waved his hat to 
 them. If he had been less troubled, he would 
 certainly have chuckled at the legacy he was 
 leaving Sterne.
 
 84 THE OLD ADAM. 
 
 CHAPTER YI. 
 
 THE PROFESSOR AT HOME. 
 
 Over Momus Street broods an air of unutter- 
 able dejection and melancholy. The currents 
 of -"life sweep by, but seldom an eddy makes 
 its way there. The very wind steals more 
 softly between those two straight rows of 
 small houses, as regular as soldiers in line, 
 and as dusky as if the said soldiers had just 
 returned from foreign service. The blinds 
 and curtains are usually drawn as if the sun 
 w^ere always hot there. One would think 
 that the street was inhabited by a colony of 
 undertakers' mutes. 
 
 The morning was well advanced when 
 there came along a tall, round-shouldered 
 man, thoughtfully stroking his mutton-chop
 
 THE PROFESSOE AT HOME. 85 
 
 whiskers, and walking with hovering foot- 
 steps. It was none other than Mr. Valentine 
 Gaunt in quest of Arnold Copingstone. Let 
 us see how he executed his mission. 
 
 There was no hesitation in his movements : 
 he walked as if he knew Momus Street well. 
 At the door of No. 13 he stopped and rang 
 the bell, without even pausing to look at 
 the brass plate, on which was inscribed — 
 " M. Dubarri, Histrionic Professor." 
 
 " Yes, sir," said the servant, in answer to 
 his inquiry, '' the Professor is at home. Will 
 you come in ? " 
 
 He was ushered into the sitting-room. 
 
 Wealth and learning are so seldom boon 
 companions, that no surprise can be excited 
 by the fact that the Professor did not appear to 
 be in very affluent circumstances. The pre- 
 vailing colour of the cheap furniture was a 
 faded green, and the innumerable ink-stains 
 on the table-cover showed that the tenant of 
 the room was addicted to literary pursuits. 
 A plaster bust of Shakespeare adorned the 
 mantelpiece ; one of Sheridan peered from
 
 86 THE OLD ADAM. 
 
 the top of tlie bookcase. There were several 
 French prints on the walls, and the hearthrug 
 was monopoh'zed by a black cat and a pair of 
 slippers. 
 
 "• Ah, ha ! " cried M. Dubarri, rushing into 
 the room, and wringing his visitor's hand 
 with violence. '* You look fat, my friend. 
 It is clover upon which you live, I think." 
 
 " If after all my troubles," returned the 
 other gravely, " I have found a comfortable 
 niche at last, it is only what I deserve." 
 
 " Thanks to me." 
 
 " Yes, I owe you a debt of gratitude." 
 
 M. Dubarri's cunning little eyes began to 
 twinkle. " I like not much debts of any 
 sort," he observed. 
 
 " But I paid you according to agreement. 
 Would you have more ? " 
 
 '' No, my friend, no ; you have been good. 
 Seat yourself, and after, we shall talk. Uk 
 hien ! You have come to see me. For 
 pleasure ? Surely not. For business ? I 
 think so. Come, then, let me hear." 
 
 " About the next examination ; when will
 
 THE PROFESSOR AT HOME. 87 
 
 you let me have the paper ? You are a most 
 unmethodical man, M. Dubarri." 
 
 " Soon — in a week or two. You will come 
 and fetch it ? " 
 
 " Yes. I hoped you could have given it 
 to me now. It is a nuisance having to come 
 to town again." 
 
 " You are very close, Mr. Valentine Graunt," 
 said M. Dubarri, his eyes still twinkling. 
 " Why will you not let me have your address ? 
 Then I could w^rite to you." 
 
 The Puddletonian Professor laughed. " I 
 give you full credit for no wish to harm me," 
 he said, in his deliberate way, " but your 
 action must depend upon the state of your 
 pocket. How are the funds ? " 
 
 " I am poor, but I am honest." 
 
 *' As honest as a mousetrap." 
 
 " Sapristi ! " cried M. Dubarri, springing 
 to his feet and gesticulating wildly. '' You 
 are a rascal yourself. Why do you throw 
 stones at my glass bouse ? Yours, T tbink, 
 is brittle too. Well — well," added he, seeing 
 a scowl on the other's face, "let us be
 
 88 THE OLD ADAM. 
 
 honourable men. I shake you by the hand," 
 and he suited the action to the word. 
 
 " How many pupils have you now ? " asked 
 Mr. Valentine Gaunt, glad to change the 
 subject. 
 
 " Not one. Alas ! I perfect them with too 
 much rapidity. They get wings and fly 
 away. But there is one young fellow who 
 may come to me — Mr. Cressingham. It is a 
 good name, is it not ? He is wealthy, I 
 tl]ink, for his watch and chain — ah ! they are 
 superb. So I say to myself, ' You will go the 
 whole hog.' And I ask him one guinea for 
 twelve lessons. Ho will accept, I am sure." 
 
 " How much did you tell n:ie your friend 
 gets for his examinership ? " 
 
 " Forty pounds yearly. Parhleu I it is a 
 pittance." 
 
 " The Civil Service Commissioners can't 
 expect a very high standard of morality for 
 that sum." 
 
 M. Dubarri shrugged his shoulders. '' He 
 is moral enough," he said, " bat he is not a 
 fool. Would you have him throw away his
 
 THE PROFESSOK AT HOME. 89 
 
 chances ? Forty pounds and not take pupils ! 
 it is impossible. He must make his hay while 
 the sun is shining." 
 
 There sounded a knock at the door, and a 
 servant entered with a letter. 
 
 "' From Mr. Cressingham," announced the 
 Professor, when he had read it. "I must go 
 to him at once. He is in the police-station." 
 
 " A promising pupil," commented Mr. 
 Valentine Gaunt. 
 
 "Oh, it is nothing; only some nonsense. 
 I shall soon set that right." 
 
 " Well, when am I to have the advance- 
 sheet of the French paper ? " 
 
 " Ten days from now." 
 
 After a few more words they parted ; Mr. 
 Valentine Gaunt going to transact a little 
 business in his methodical way, and then 
 returning to Puddleton. 
 
 M. Dubarri's arrival at the police-station 
 has been already chronicled. 
 
 '' Well, my young friend," said he to 
 Arnold, " your letter has given me a surprise, 
 but I am come, you see. Have you been
 
 90 THE OLD ADAM. 
 
 giving another rascal one for bis nob ? You 
 are a famous fellow to fight, you big English- 
 man you." 
 
 The inspector stared harder than ever. 
 
 " One moment," said Arnold. " Sit down 
 on that chair, M. Dubarri. It will make you 
 the more ready to pity me, and the more 
 anxious to get away." 
 
 Then he turned to the inspector, and added 
 in a subdued tone, " That cheque is mine." 
 
 " I thought you said your name is Cres- 
 singham." 
 
 "" So it is — my theatrical name." 
 
 '' And Arnold Copingstone is your real 
 name r 
 
 '' Yes." 
 
 '• I must speak to your reference here before 
 I can return you the cheque," said the in- 
 spector, still clinging to his suspicions. 
 
 " Remember that he knows only my 
 theatrical name, so say nothing about the 
 other." 
 
 '' You know this gentleman ? " asked the 
 inspector of M. Dubarri.
 
 THE PROFESSOR AT HOME. 91 
 
 " Certainly," replied the Professor, as if he 
 had long been intimate with Arnold. 
 
 " And you can speak as to his respecta- 
 bility ? " 
 
 "To be sure. He is a gentleman. Can 
 you not see it ? " 
 
 " Your card, sir." 
 
 After a good deal of fumbling, the Pro- 
 fessor produced a pocket-book, hastily pulled 
 out a card, and handed it to the inspector, 
 who read aloud — 
 
 " ' M. Dubois, Professor of the French 
 Language and Literature, 13, Monius Street, 
 Bloomsbury.' I thought," added he sharply, 
 " your name was Dubarri." 
 
 M. Dubarri was blinking like an owl. His 
 shoulders seemed to have been arrested in 
 the act of perpetrating a shrug, and his hands 
 were spread out before him. He looked like 
 a man struck by a sudden blow and trying 
 to collect his energies for some cunning 
 return. 
 
 "Let — me— see," said he, placing his 
 pince-nez on his funny little snub nose. '' It
 
 92 THE OLD ADAM. 
 
 must be some mistake, I think. Oh, I see ! 
 I have given you the wrong card. Dubarri 
 is my nom-de-guerre. I am an agent for the 
 theatre, histrionic professor. You shall judge 
 for yourself that I speak the truth." 
 
 He produced a card similar to the one he 
 had given Arnold. As the addresses were 
 the same, the inspector expressed himself 
 satisfied, though he instituted some inquiries 
 afterwards. At any rate^ the cheque was 
 eventually restored to its owner. 
 
 He and his friend in need left the police- 
 station together. It was agreed between 
 them that Arnold should transfer his belong- 
 ings to Momus Street, he agreeing to pay a 
 certain sum weekly for board and lodging. 
 
 '^ You shall have lectures all day long," 
 said the Professor, enthusiastically. " I 
 charge you a mere trifle. But your society 
 — ah ! that will be nice. You have lost 
 your watch and chain, my friend," added he, 
 with a sudden look of anxious interest. '' You 
 have been robbed again, eh ? " 
 
 •" Ye?, by a relative."
 
 THE PROFESSOR AT HOME. 93 
 
 *' You mean it ? " 
 
 " I do indeed." 
 
 ** Then what will you do for the time of 
 day ? " This question was not so superficial 
 as might be thought, its object being to 
 ascertain whether Arnold had enough money 
 to replace his loss, and so to pay for the 
 valuable lectures. 
 
 For answer, he pointed to the clock of a 
 neighbouring church. 
 
 " But," said M. Dubarri, with a gesture 
 of impatience, " this is not Momus Street. 
 We have no churches there, no clocks, no 
 nothing." 
 
 " You are well off then," drawled Arnold. 
 " The hours will slip by unnoticed." 
 
 " Vous plaisantez toujour s. Tell me, what 
 of your watch ? " 
 
 " I pawned it." 
 
 " I feared so," said M. Dubarri, with a 
 heavy sigh. The news had thrown a very 
 subdued light over his companion's respect- 
 ability. After all, he might not be a desirable 
 pupil.
 
 94 THE OLD ADAM. 
 
 " But when I have cashed my cheque I 
 shall redeem my property." 
 
 '' Ha ! you have a cheque ? " 
 
 The sparkle leaped into M. Dubarri's eyes 
 with magical suddenness. Arnold was a 
 thorough gentleman, and no mistake. Tlie 
 Professor felt so strongly on the subject that 
 he was obliged to stop in the middle of the 
 street in order to shake his companion's 
 hand. 
 
 Two hours later, they arrived at No. 13, 
 Momus Street. 
 
 Arnold was not long in making himself 
 thorouo:hly at home there. He was one of 
 those imperturbable fellows who take things 
 exactly as they come. The bedroom allotted 
 to him was small, and the Professor's '^ mere 
 trifle" a pretty round figure, but Arnold 
 accepted the one and paid the other without 
 question or complaint. 
 
 When he left Puddleton, he had no idea of 
 taking this fatal plunge, for, as regards his 
 father's favour, he felt that it was fatal ; he 
 had acted on one of those strange impulses
 
 THE PEOFESSOR AT HOME. 95 
 
 from which even men of his disposition are 
 not exempt. He had always entertained the 
 greatest dislike for the career mapped ont for 
 him by the Doctor, and a strong liking for 
 the stage, and his tastes in this direction had 
 been only strengthened by concealment. His 
 father had always treated him more as a 
 pupil than as a son ; there had never been 
 any confidences between the two, never any 
 bond of sympathy; the Doctor's mind was so 
 engrossed with his establishment that Arnold 
 had been compelled to take refuge in himself. 
 The link was slight enough at any time, and 
 it snapped when Arnold found himself in 
 London, with plenty of money in his pocket, 
 and a chance of escaping from the odious life 
 of tuition that lay before him. 
 
 He told himself also that he did it for 
 Hebe Pike's sake. His father would not 
 allow him to marry her, so he would carve 
 out an independence for himself, and then no 
 one could oppose him. 
 
 Whether he was likely to attain his object 
 by residing with M. Dubarri is another
 
 96 THE OLD ADAM. 
 
 matter. His plilegmatic disposition was 
 brought into striking contrast with the 
 Frenchman's wonderful vivacity. The tutor 
 shouted, gesticulated, and danced about the 
 room, while the pupil looked on with a face 
 like a mask. No doubt he learned in this 
 way much that should be avoided, though 
 such was scarcely the Professor's object ; and 
 perhaps also he acquired more animation than 
 he otherwise would have done. 
 
 As regards M. Dubarri's qualifications for 
 teaching, he described them himself one 
 evening. The manner in which the explana- 
 tion came about was as follows. 
 
 Being in an unusually quiescent mood, he 
 was sitting in an arm-chair by the fire, reading 
 the Figaro, while Arnold was sauntering 
 about the room. Presently, the latter stopped 
 at the bookcase. Without any definite pur- 
 pose, he took down an old mathematical work 
 in French, and began carelessly to turn over 
 the pages. A slip of paper fluttered to the 
 ground, and M. Dubarri happened to look 
 up and see it. In a moment he sprang to
 
 THE PKOFESSOR AT HOME. 97 
 
 his feet, dashed across the room, and picked 
 it up. 
 
 " Sapristi ! it is mine," he cried. " Why 
 will you pry into my affairs ? You are close, 
 
 like all Englishmen, and yet But no 
 
 matter. Come, we are friends." He patted 
 Arnold on the back and led him to a chair. 
 " I shall tell you something about myself, if 
 you wish." 
 
 " Certainly." 
 
 " Yery well then. Who I am, does not 
 matter much. What is the use of a title 
 without lands or money ? A plain monsieur 
 can teach pupils and earn a few pounds, but 
 for a nobleman — bah ! he would only be 
 laughed at. So here I am, M. Dubois, Pro- 
 fessor of the French Language and Literature, 
 and M. Dubarri, Histrionic Professor, but of 
 this you must be silent as the mouse. Dubarri 
 sounds Italian ; it is better so. People will 
 say, ' Here is an Italian who speaks French 
 like a Parisian, and English like a Londoner. 
 Parhleu ! he is a miracle ; we shall go and sit 
 at his feet.' So they come to me, and I live " 
 
 VOT,. I. H
 
 98 THE OLD ADAM. 
 
 — here the little eyes began to blink — " with 
 difficulty. Ah ! the world is a queer place ; 
 it is the scum that floats to the surface. 
 
 " My friend, my life has been a strange 
 one. I was born to riches, money, land, 
 houses, everything that I could wish, except 
 parents. They died when I was a little 
 fellow, no higher than that." He held his 
 hand about two feet from the floor. " I was 
 the heir to a fine estate, and now it belongs 
 to others. I have never seen it since." His 
 voice faltered and he suddenly dashed off 
 wilh : " But why should I trouble you with 
 my sorrows ? You must know I lived in 
 stormy times. As a Frenchman, I was a 
 politician, and as a French politician I was 
 obliged to fight for my opinions. I was too 
 well known to run with the crowd. The 
 twig can bend with the wind and be un- 
 noticed among the leaves, but the gilded 
 weathercock — all eyes are upon it. 
 
 " I w^as Orleanist to the backbone. Louis 
 Philippe was my king ; I would have no 
 other. Then came the Eevolution ; the land
 
 THE PROFESSOR AT HOME. 99 
 
 ran with blood ; and the stream washed 
 away my property. They were too many for 
 us ; they rushed upon us like a whirlwind ; 
 the Orleanists fled, and I with them. It is 
 matter of history. But think me not a 
 coward. I ran because I could do no good 
 stopping there : what could one man do 
 against ten thousand ? See, I was brave ! " 
 
 M. Dubarri paused in his narrative, to take 
 off his coat, which he tossed upon the table. 
 As he then began to unbutton his waistcoat, 
 it looked as if he were about to strip entirely, 
 but he drew the line at his shirt. He opened 
 it, however, and showed a couple of nasty scars. 
 
 " They are honourable wounds in front," 
 he went on, " and when I received them, I 
 thought I had better take my conge. But 
 one lancer fellow suffered before I went. He 
 rode at me to spike me like a boar. I 
 objected — I was not brought up to such 
 treatment ; so I divided him at the waist, and 
 his horse rode away with the lower half of 
 him sitting bolt upright in the saddle. 
 Sapristi ! it was a mighty stroke."
 
 100 THE OLD ADAM. 
 
 '' Beats the sheep trick hollow," commented 
 Arnold. 
 
 "The cheap trick?" asked M. Dubarri, 
 indignantly. 
 
 " I have seen a guardsman bisect a sheep." 
 
 "That may be. But I speak only the 
 truth, I do assure you. Well, I ran for 
 England, and here I have lived ever since. I 
 made a little money now and again, by teach- 
 ing in schools, doing a little business in 
 jewelry, taking pupils, and several other 
 things ; and then — mais non, I can tell you 
 no more." He clenched his fist and banged 
 it on the table. 
 
 " And the slip of paper I just found," 
 suggested Arnold. 
 
 "Oh! ah! the paper," said M. Dubarri. 
 '' It is nothing, my friend, nothing at all. 
 You see, I am frank."
 
 ( 101 ) 
 
 CHAPTER YII. 
 
 A PROPOSAL. 
 
 " Why, where lias my photograph gone ? " 
 exclaimed Nellie, gazing in perplexity at a 
 blank space in her album. 
 
 She and her friend, Mrs. Sterne, were 
 chatting together in the Rectory drawing- 
 room, a fine handsome room with a division 
 in the centre showing that it had been en- 
 larged. The window^ looked out upon the 
 well-trimmed law^n with its gravel sweep and 
 thick fence of laurels and holly, while a glass 
 door opened into a delightful little conser- 
 vatory, which was Nellie's es^jecial charge. 
 The silk curtains were of a dead-yellow colour, 
 and the furniture was black and gold. There 
 was a low and luxurious couch on each side
 
 102 THE OLD ADAM. 
 
 of the fireplace, and another immediately in 
 front. It was here that the two ladies were 
 sitting. 
 
 " Indeed, it's a very strange thing," said 
 Nellie, tapping her album. " The photograph 
 was there only a week ago, for I saw it 
 myself." 
 
 " One of your lovers must have taken it," 
 suggested Mrs. Sterne, with a smile. " Silver- 
 spoon, Plantagenet, Merridale ; but I should 
 have to go through all the pupils before I got 
 to the end of them." 
 
 " Please, don't call them lovers, Mrs. 
 Sterne. They pretend to be fond of me in 
 order to stand high in my father's estimation." 
 
 " Not all, Nellie, surely. Isn't there 
 one 
 
 " No," declared Nellie, dropping suddenly 
 over her book. " Not one of them has been 
 in the room since last week, so where can 
 the photograph have gone ? " 
 
 " The irrepressible cat again, I suppose. 
 By the way, you have never given me one ; 
 and I should like one of the Doctor."
 
 A PROPOSAL. 103 
 
 " He never will be photographed. He says 
 he hates it, and yet you know the curiously- 
 framed oil-painting of him in the study. 
 Well, if he didn't mind sitting to an artist 
 for hours and hours, what objection could he 
 have to putting himself in front of a camera 
 for half a minute ? " 
 
 " Perhaps he dislikes those rack-like 
 supports." 
 
 " I don't think so," replied Nellie, thought- 
 fully, " for he goes cheerfully to the dentist." 
 
 Mrs. Sterne laughed. Still, she felt that 
 the Doctor was certainly a very odd man, 
 whose assumption of candour seemed to cover 
 some mystery. Why should he object to be 
 photographed ? Why should he refuse to 
 have his name inserted in the Clerical 
 Directory ? She put these questions to her 
 husband, and he replied that it was, no doubt, 
 .a mere whim. 
 
 Though the disappearance of a photograph 
 from an album is a trivial and by no means 
 infrequent circumstance, Nellie could not help 
 regarding it with apprehension. She was.
 
 104 THE OLD ADAM. 
 
 at all times, ratlier inclined to take a despond- 
 ing view of things, and this tendency was 
 naturally increased by the Doctor's lengthy 
 absence in search of her missing brother. He 
 had already been away a week, and no 
 message had come from him except a telegram 
 requesting her to send the carriage to meet 
 him at Stilbury this afternoon. No one, she 
 felt, would have dared to steal her photo- 
 graph if only Arnold had been near. Of 
 course there was the Doctor, but then his 
 thoughts were concentrated upon his pupils. 
 The very moment they showed the slightest 
 signs of being overworked, he detected it and 
 sent them off for a holiday ; whereas if his 
 own daughter had been deadly pale, he would 
 scarcely have noticed the change. Tt was 
 mere habit, and not any want of affection, 
 but it forced upon this motherless girl a 
 strong sense of isolation. 
 
 The Doctor was certainly not free from the 
 doQ^matism which is so often associated with 
 tuition, and this bad prevented any real com- 
 panionship between him and his children.
 
 A PEOPOSAL. 105 
 
 Thev had lived under the same roof, but each 
 had always gone his or her own way. When 
 a confidant was needed, they had to seek an 
 outsider. But this reticence, by compelhng 
 her to draw inferences from appearances, had 
 sharpened Nellie's faculties, and she had been 
 one of the first to perceive Mr. Valentine 
 Gaunt's influence over her father. It caused 
 her the utmost perplexity and a vague alarm 
 for the future. She cordially detested this 
 stealthy tutor — a feeling only increased by 
 his evident admiration for herself. That he 
 would some day propose to her, she was 
 confident ; indeed, she had already rehearsed 
 several little scenes, in each of which she had 
 dismissed him with scorn. But what if her 
 father should insist upon her marrying him ? 
 It w^as this that she dreaded, knowing full 
 well that the Doctor would have no difficulty 
 in persuading himself that he was acting for 
 her good, though, in reality, sacrificing her 
 for the sake of his establishment. 
 
 Perhaps Nellie could not readily have told 
 why a missing photograph should have raised
 
 106 'THE OLD ADAM. 
 
 these thoughts in her mind, but they doubt- 
 less had some connection. And then a deep 
 blush suddenly overspread her pretty face. 
 After all, suppose 
 
 " Mr. Strathclyde has called to see you, 
 Miss Nellie," announced a white-headed man- 
 servant. 
 
 " Me, Higgins ? " 
 
 " Yes, miss." 
 
 " Oh ! " said Nellie, staring hard at the 
 grate. " He must mean my father. Did you 
 say that he had not yet returned ? " 
 
 ■^' Yes, miss," replied Higgins, with a grin ; 
 " and he said, ' All the better.' " 
 
 After a brief pause, Nellie exclaimed 
 warmly, " How can you say such a thing, 
 Higgins! Mr. Stratchclyde must have mis- 
 understood you ; but as you are so stupid, 
 perhaps — well, perhaps you had better show 
 him in." 
 
 As soon as the door was closed, she made 
 a wild rush for the mirror. But when Philip 
 entered, she was sitting very demurely on 
 the couch.
 
 A PROPOSAL. 107 
 
 Philip had a slender, active figure ; his 
 complexion was very fair, and his features 
 were as delicately chiselled as a girl's. The 
 lights and shadows flashing across his hand- 
 some face spoke of a frank, impulsive, 
 generous disposition. He was one of the 
 Doctor's favourite pupils, and a great friend 
 of Leonard Sterne's. 
 
 He walked swiftly across the room, and 
 Nellie rose to meet him. A pretty contrast 
 they made as they stood for a moment hand- 
 in-hand, this handsome fair-complexioned lad 
 and this little dark-haired maiden with the 
 wondering blue eyes and sweet pensive face, 
 which looked all the more charming for a 
 pink flush. 
 
 Nellie was trembling a little as she said, 
 " You didn't tell Higgins that " 
 
 " Oh yes, I did," interrupted Philip. " I 
 waited until Mrs. Sterne had gone, for I 
 wanted to see you alone. Nellie, my darling, 
 I do love you. Do you love me — just a little ? 
 Darliug, say you do." 
 
 He held her hand in both of his and she
 
 108 THE OLD ADAM. 
 
 did not withdraw it. Though she neither 
 spoke nor dared to turn her face towards 
 him, there was a bright happy light in her 
 blue eyes. 
 
 " Nellie, do you love me ? " he pleaded. 
 
 " Yes, Philip," she whispered. 
 
 He took her in his arms and kissed her. 
 
 " I hope I am not disturbing you," said 
 Mr. Yalentine Gaunt, poking his head in at 
 the door. 
 
 The young people bounded apart like 
 indiarubber balls. Nellie hung her head, 
 bu'E Philip stared indignantly at the intruder. 
 
 " I have come," said Mr. Valentine Gaunt, 
 with a look of surprise, " to see whether the 
 Doctor has returned." 
 
 "• No, he has not," replied Philip, shortly. 
 
 This remark the other coolly ignored. He 
 turned to Nellie and said, " Has not your 
 father arrived yet ? " 
 
 " No." 
 
 " He ought to be here in a few minutes." 
 
 " Yes, unless he missed the train." 
 
 *' Then," said Mr. Yalentine Gaunt, hover-
 
 A PEOPOSAL. 109 
 
 ing around a seat on one of the couches, " I 
 suppose I had better wait for him." He 
 glanced at each of his companions in turn, 
 and smiled. 
 
 Philip stole a look of blank dismay at 
 Nellie, and caught her looking in blank 
 dismay at him. It was absolutely necessary, 
 they both felt, that they should have a little 
 private talk together before the Doctor's 
 arrival, and yet how was it to be managed 
 with that odious creature stuck on the 
 couch opposite ? Had he seen them ? How 
 were they to act ? Were they to anticipate 
 anything he might do ? or, were they to 
 wait until they knew what it was to be ? 
 Each was burning to learn the other's 
 opinion. 
 
 The position was embarrassing enough for 
 Philip, but it was far more so for Nellie. 
 Now that she had time to reflect, she re- 
 proached herself for her heartlessness in 
 accepting her own happiness while still in 
 suspense about her brother. She had been 
 in such great trouble about him that Philip's
 
 110 THE OLD ADAM. 
 
 words had induced a momentary reaction, 
 only to plunge her back in trouble again. 
 However, the present evil is, if not the worst, 
 at least the most pressing ; and Nellie deter- 
 mined to make an attempt to get rid of it, 
 appeasing her conscience with the reflection 
 that the Doctor's return was a proof of 
 Arnold's safety. 
 
 '' I think," she said in a listening attitude, 
 " I hear the sound of wheels. I'll just run 
 into the conservatory to see." 
 
 " Perhaps I can help you," added Philip, 
 rising to his feet. 
 
 Mr. Valentine Gaunt's face was not a 
 pleasant sight, as he watched them vanishing 
 through the glass doors. The little con- 
 spiracy against the common foe, as well as 
 the necessity for haste, helped to put the two 
 young people at their ease. They spoke 
 with much less constraint than they other- 
 wise would have done. 
 
 " Oh ! Philip, do you think he saw ? " 
 asked Nellie, blushing. 
 
 " If he did, Nellie, what then ? "
 
 A PEOPOSAL. Ill 
 
 " But, indeed, you don't know what harm 
 he can do." 
 
 " Remember, Nellie," said Philip, proudly, 
 " you have me to protect you now. And the 
 very instant the Doctor returns, I'll go to 
 him." 
 
 " No! oh no! you must not do that. Philip, 
 you really, really must be patient. Think of 
 poor Arnold ! We must hear all about him 
 first, and I feel very selfish to have allowed 
 you to say a word to me to-day. Oh, Philip, 
 do you think he is safe ? " She found it a 
 little difficult to balance a possible trouble 
 against her present happiness. 
 
 " But, NelHe, you would not have me kept 
 in suspense, surely." 
 
 " Oh, of course not," she replied, with a 
 mischievous smile. " And now, tell me one 
 thing : did you steal a photograph from my 
 album ? " 
 
 " A photograph ? " 
 
 '' Yes, sir, speak the truth." 
 
 " No, indeed I did not." 
 
 " Then somebody has."
 
 112 THE OLD ADAM. 
 
 Philip looked becomingly indignant. That 
 everybody should long to possess Nellie's 
 photograph, he could thoroughly understand ; 
 but that some thief should have coolly appro- 
 priated it, was enough to rouse his anger. 
 He was on the point of expressing himself 
 very forcibly when Nellie laid her finger on 
 her lips and glanced at the doorway. 
 
 " If," said Mr. Yalentine Gaunt, advancing 
 towards them, " my eyes and ears can be of 
 any service to you, you are welcome to the 
 use of them. They are usually considered 
 pretty sharp, and perhaps they may be able 
 to tell whether the Doctor is near." 
 
 " Thank you, Mr. Gaunt," said Nellie. 
 
 She stopped suddenly and began to tremble, 
 her quick ear having detected a sound in the 
 hall. The next moment there was a hasty 
 footstep in the drawing-room, and the Doctor 
 himself stood before them. 
 
 He had alighted from his carriage at the 
 same spot where Silverspoon and Co. saw 
 him get in, and had preceded it on foot. His 
 suspicious nature delighted in these little
 
 A PROPOSAL. 113 
 
 surprises. It is doubtful whether he im- 
 plicitly trusted even Leonard Sterne. 
 
 When he saw the group in the conservatory, 
 his face clouded, but only for a moment. They 
 were all struck by his appearance. His hair 
 and beard seemed to have grown whiter, and 
 the lines to have deepened in his forehead, 
 yet his manner was unusually jaunty. 
 
 Nellie glided swiftly towards him and 
 clasped his hands. 
 
 " Well, father," she faltered, " what of 
 Arnold ? " 
 
 " Oh, he is all right. Bless the boy, what 
 a lot of trouble he has given me ! Do you 
 wish to see me, Mr. Graunt ? Yery well. 
 Philip, you pass the post-office — will you 
 post this letter for me ? I promised to send 
 Arnold a line on my arrival." 
 
 Mr. Yalentine Gaunt glanced at the address 
 as he passed the letter on to Philip. He saw 
 that it was directed to " Arnold Copingstone, 
 Esq., Christchurch, Oxford." 
 
 The Doctor led the way into the study, 
 and Mr. Valentine Graunt followed him. 
 
 VOL. I. I
 
 114 THE OLD ADAM. 
 
 CHAPTER YIIL 
 
 THE RIVAL TUTORS. 
 
 Tex minutes after the letter to Arnold had 
 been posted, his arrival at Oxford was being 
 discussed by nearly everybody in the village. 
 As a disseminator of useful information, 
 Joseph Haply, the worthy postmaster, cer- 
 tainly deserved great credit for promptitude. 
 There was naturally a good deal of curiosity 
 on the subject, Mr. Valentine Gaunt's theory 
 being the one that gained the most general 
 acceptance, but nothing was known beyond 
 the fact itself. 
 
 Leonard Sterne, who heard the news from 
 Philip, at once rushed up to the Rectory, 
 where the Doctor and Mr. Yalentine Gaunt 
 were already sitting in conclave. A slight 
 shadow of vexation crossed Sterne's face ; it
 
 THE RIVAL TUTORS. 115 
 
 seemed fated that he should drop into second 
 place. His anxiety to control his feelings 
 made him hesitate for a moment in the door- 
 way. 
 
 " Oh, pray don't mind me, Mr. Sterne," 
 said Mr. Valentine Gaunt, with a sardonic 
 grin. " We have finished our conversation." 
 
 If Leonard could have had his dearest wish 
 gratified, it would have been that he and this 
 insolent fellow could have been transported 
 back into 'Varsity days and set up one against 
 the other with the gloves. No doubt a most 
 unclerical wish, but the provocation was 
 great. He could not trust himself to reply ; 
 so he sat down and began to talk to the 
 Doctor about Arnold. 
 
 After some little discussion, they proceeded 
 to matters connected with the pupils. 
 
 " What report ? " asked the Doctor, with 
 a sly twinkle in his eyes. 
 
 " Bad — very bad," replied Sterne, gloomily. 
 '' There was a riot almost before you were 
 out of the place." 
 
 The Doctor tried to look solemn. " Dear
 
 116 THE OLD ADAM. 
 
 me, dear me," he said, shaking his head ; 
 " it's always the same, always the same. You 
 men don't appear to be able to manage them. 
 I can't think how it is." 
 
 " Mr. Sterne was speaking for himself," 
 put in Mr. Valentine Gaunt, " so I must ask 
 you. Dr. Copingstone, not to include me." 
 
 The Doctor looked inquiringly from one to 
 the other. 
 
 " The Hive was perfectly quiet," continued 
 Mr. Yalentine Gaunt. " All my pupils have 
 been hard at work. Their appreciation of 
 my method has made it a complete success." 
 
 This was decidedly a facer for Sterne, who, 
 during the Doctor's absence, was supposed 
 to be responsible for the good conduct of all 
 the rest. 
 
 " Mr. Gaunt did not return from London 
 until one o'clock on the following day," he 
 said, " so I can't see how he can speak so 
 positively of what went on in his absence." 
 
 " In accordance with the Doctor's wishes, 
 I set my pupils a certain amount of work ; 
 when I returned at one o'clock, the time
 
 THE RIVAL TUTORS. 117 
 
 stated so accurately by Mr. Sterne, that work 
 was done. I contend, then, that I was 
 justified in saying what I did." 
 
 ^'Plantagenet and Silverspoon were among 
 the ringleaders," said Sterne, dryly. 
 
 " Possibly ; but in the morning they work 
 with Mr. Jostler." 
 
 " And in the afternoon ? " 
 
 " With me. And I have an excellent report 
 to give of their work." He knew quite well 
 that this was sufficient to satisfy the Doctor. 
 
 Still, the latter had to appease his trusty 
 lieutenant. " I'll make an example of some- 
 body," he cried, banging his fist on the 
 writing-table, " as sure as I am the Rector of 
 this parish. Be good enough to ring the bell, 
 Sterne. We'll have Plantagenet and Silver- 
 spoon up at once. If we don't strike a blow 
 soon, these young rascals will be getting too 
 many for us. Higgins," added he to the 
 man-servant, " send Lord Ernest Plantagenet 
 and Yiscount Silverspoon to me." 
 
 When the culprits arrived, the Doctor 
 talked to them for about ten minutes in his
 
 118 THE OLD ADAM. 
 
 jocular way, and then appealed to Sterne 
 whether they should not be let off this time. 
 He really was a niost aggravating man. Mr. 
 Valentine Gaunt smiled with the keenest 
 satisfaction at seeing his rival impaled upon 
 the horns of a dilemma. 
 
 But Sterne, while anxious to do his duty, 
 had no intention of having the Doctor's 
 responsibilities coolly foisted upon him. He 
 said merely — 
 
 " The facts have been laid before you, Dr. 
 Copingstone. It is for you to take what 
 action you think best." 
 
 " Well, I think we'll let them go. But, 
 remember, never again, Plantagenet ; never 
 again, Silverspoon. The next time I'll pack 
 you off home as sure as I'm sitting here." 
 
 '' Thank you. Dr. Copingstone," said they, 
 and laughed their way out of the Eectory. 
 
 " Ah! " said the Doctor, smiling at his 
 tutors through his glasses, " I have frightened 
 the young rascals out of their wits." 
 
 Exit Sterne in disgust. 
 
 *'Then," said Mr. Yalentine Gaunt,
 
 THE RIVAL TUTORS. 119 
 
 tbouglitfully stroking liis mutton-cliop 
 whiskers, " Heavisides will never do any- 
 thing in English, and as he wishes to have a 
 try at Greek, had not you better remove him 
 to Mr. Sterne's classes ? He is a capital 
 fellow to work, very steady, rather dull, 
 perhaps, but I have no doubt he will do Mr. 
 Sterne credit." 
 
 "Yery well, I don't suppose it matters 
 much whom he works with. He'll never 
 pass an examination as long as he lives — 
 never." 
 
 " He would pass if he were examined in 
 the points of a fox-terrier or a meerschaum 
 pipe or a banjo, but in nothing else." He 
 then went on to mention a number of others 
 whom he wished transferred to Sterne's 
 classes in exchange for pupils of more ability. 
 
 " But what will Sterne say ? " demanded 
 the Doctor. 
 
 '^ We must consult the interests of the 
 pupils, and not of the tutors. That 1 conceive 
 to be our guiding principle." 
 
 " True ; the very thing Sterne is always
 
 120 THE OLD ADAM. 
 
 saying liimself." He accordingly made tlie 
 necessary alterations. 
 
 When Sterne heard how his classes had 
 been mutilated without his having a voice in 
 the matter, he was naturally very indignant. 
 His few clever pupils had been taken from 
 him, and their places filled with hopeless 
 dullards. He knew from past experience 
 that unless a tutor could get high marks for 
 his pupils, he was pretty sure to be sent about 
 his business ; and, though it was unlikely that 
 he would be treated in this abrupt way, he 
 would certainly sink in the Doctor's estima- 
 tion. The whole thing was so obviously 
 arranged solely for Mr. Valentine Gaunt's 
 benefit, and yet it was almost impossible to 
 protest against it. 
 
 Leonard Sterne would not as yet allow 
 that there was any rivalry between him and 
 this other tutor who was filching away his 
 pupils and supplanting him in the Doctor's 
 favour, but there could be no doubt that it 
 was being rapidly forced upon him. It was 
 difficult enough, as it was, to do his duty
 
 THE RIVAL TUTOES. 121 
 
 amid so many opposing elements ; it would 
 be almost impossible in a hand-to-hand 
 struggle for existence, and it was in this 
 direction that matters were drifting. 
 
 Mr. Yalentine Graunt's next words would 
 appear to have had this very end in view. 
 He was continually testing his influence over 
 the Doctor as if he himself was not quite 
 certain of its extent. He did so now in a 
 way strongly suggestive of his cat-like walk. 
 
 " I have a bad account to give of Naggle, 
 Dr. Copingstone," he said, watching the 
 Doctor closely. 
 
 " I am sorry for that — very sorry. Your 
 report has been so uniformly good that 
 Naggle must be very bad indeed." 
 
 " First of all, he is an utter blockhead." 
 
 " But he pays. His father would pay any- 
 thing to keep him at such a place as this." 
 
 '' His remaining here will lead to the 
 demoralization of all work. Not a thing can 
 be done when he is present ; the lectures are 
 disturbed, and a general riot always ensues, 
 to the utter destruction of all method."
 
 122 THE OLD ADAM. 
 
 This was true enou^^Ii in the main. Naggle, 
 the son of a wealthy tallow merchant, was 
 out of his depth among the young aristocrats 
 of Puddleton. He was generally unpopular, 
 and had an irritating habit of getting pelted 
 with books during Mr. Yalentine Graunt's 
 lectures. Of course a pupil who did this sort 
 of thing deserved a very severe punishment. 
 
 " Send Naggle to me, Mr. Gaunt," said the 
 Doctor, taking up his pen. " I'll tell him 
 that unless he turns over a new leaf, we shall 
 have to try to get on without him." 
 
 " Dr. Copingstone," said Mr. Yalentine 
 Gaunt, still keenly watching from beneath 
 his heavy brows, and speaking with emphatic 
 deliberation, " Naggle must go ! " 
 
 The pen fell from the Doctor's hand. After 
 a swift look of troubled surprise, he said, 
 "Why?" 
 
 " Because — I — wish — it." While uttering 
 this sentence he was ready at any moment to 
 change its whole meaning, and only added 
 the last word after observing from the Doctor's 
 expression that it would be safe to do so.
 
 THE RIVAL TUTORS. 123 
 
 " Of course, if I have it upon your authority 
 that haggle's presence is subversive of dis- 
 cipline, he must go." 
 
 " I have already said so, Dr. Copingstone." 
 
 " Then," said the Doctor after a slight 
 pause, " be good enough to put your opinion 
 in writing." 
 
 Though he always took care to bind every- 
 body else down by a written agreement, he 
 himself fought very shy of anything of the sort. 
 It is uncommonly awkward at times to be 
 confronted with your own words in black and 
 white. 
 
 Mr. Yalentine Gaunt hesitated. 
 
 " Why ? " he asked at length. 
 
 " I shall have to give Mr. Naggle a reason 
 for the dismissal of his son. You surely 
 can't object to his seeing your opinion." 
 
 " Oh dear, no." 
 
 He drew a sheet of paper towards him and 
 wrote his statement upon it. Without 
 troubling to read it, the Doctor folded it up 
 and put it in one of the drawers of his 
 writing-table.
 
 124 THE OLD ADAM. 
 
 " One point more," said the methodical 
 Professor, rising to his feet. " I suppose you 
 don't wish to lose all your pupils." 
 
 The Doctor gave a very perceptible start. 
 
 " I don't," he said firmly. " There is no 
 
 fear of that, unless " He stopped and 
 
 looked meaningly at the other. 
 
 " Unless your daughter were to marry one 
 of the pupils." 
 
 " Which she never shall do." 
 
 " Then let me advise you to keep a stricter 
 watch upon her and Philip Strathclyde." 
 
 Mr. Valentine Gaunt appeared very well 
 pleased with himself as he walked through 
 the village. Sometimes, it is true, a puzzled 
 look came into his face, but, on the whole, his 
 expression was one of profound satisfaction. 
 His shoulders were drawn square, his bearing 
 was more erect, he glanced with a certain air 
 of proprietorship at the cottages right and 
 left where some of the pupils lodged. There 
 were many of these youths lounging about, 
 with cigars in their mouths and fox-terriers 
 at their heels, and they all had a pleasant
 
 THE RIVAL TUTORS. 125 
 
 word to say to Mr. Valentine Gaunt. He 
 answered tliem as usual in his jovial, familiar 
 way, and yet, somehow or other, there was a 
 difference in his tones. 
 
 " The Professor," said Merridale afterwards, 
 " spoke as if he had gone up a peg." 
 
 They were keen observers, these doggy 
 young gentlemen. Not one of them but 
 knew of the rivalry between the two tutors 
 and, in Sterne's case, exaggerated it. 
 
 Naturally enough, as soon as Naggle heard 
 what had befallen him through the agency 
 of the one, he went to the other and implored 
 his intercession. It was just the case to 
 enlist Sterne's sympathies. Feeling that an 
 act of gross injustice had been committed, he 
 determined to oppose it. 
 
 " What is this about Naggle, Dr. Coping- 
 stone ? " he asked on entering the study. 
 
 " I have made up my mind to get rid of 
 him," replied the Doctor, taking all the 
 responsibility upon his own shoulders. To 
 have done anything else would have been to 
 confess a lamentable want of authority, for
 
 126 THE OLD ADAM. 
 
 he fancied that he had cunningly hidden Mr. 
 Valentine Gaunt's power from outsiders. 
 " We must make an example of somebody," 
 he went on ; " you yourself admitted as much ; 
 and Naggle is really a downright scamp." 
 
 '' But he is the most inoffensive fellow in 
 the whole place. Why, he couldn't say 
 ' Boo ! ' to a goose, unless it were to attack 
 him first." 
 
 " I have Graunt's written statement that he 
 is an incorrigible offender." 
 
 " May I see it ? " 
 
 " Certainly." 
 
 The Doctor produced the paper and handed 
 it to Sterne. 
 
 " Well," said the latter, after he had read 
 it, ''all I can say is this — it is utterly opposed 
 to my experience. Naggle is a foolish 
 fellow — a donkey, in fact — but harmless. In 
 my classes he is perfectly quiet ; and if Mr. 
 Gaunt can't maintain order, it is his method 
 that should be blamed." 
 
 He could not resist the temptation of 
 throwing this pebble.
 
 THE RIVAL TUTORS. 127 
 
 " It's no use — no use. I have made up my 
 mind." 
 
 " Then," said Sterne, with a flash of anger, 
 *' it is most unfair ! " 
 
 " Hold there, Mr. Sterne ! " cried the Doctor, 
 darting out his hand. " None but you would 
 dare to speak to me in that way." His tone 
 suddenly changed to one of utter weariness. 
 " You had better leave me before I say 
 what I should afterwards be sorry for. I'm 
 worried, Sterne, worried to death. Leave me 
 alone for a while." 
 
 Sterne felt that the Doctor had aged greatly 
 during the last few days. He could not help 
 pitying him, and yet he was both vexed and 
 dismayed at the turn affairs were taking. It 
 was no longer possible to deny that when he 
 and the new-comer were opposed to one 
 another, he must go to the wall. Mr. Valen- 
 tine Gaunt's power was as strange as it 
 was incontestable ; Leonard Sterne could not 
 understand it at all. He reproached himself, 
 too, for having lost his temper at a time 
 when he had most needed it ; instead of im-
 
 128 THE OLD ADAM. 
 
 proving matters, he liad only made them 
 worse. It was a miserable prospect that lay 
 before him. Had it not been for his wife, he 
 could almost have resolved to leave Paddleton. 
 And then that weary piteous look in the 
 Doctor's face — what was the meaning of it ? 
 Both were so obstinate that things had never 
 run very smoothly between him and his son ; 
 could there be any disagreement now ? He 
 spoke very shortly about Arnold, dismissed 
 the subject with a few words, and then 
 turned to something else. Doubtless they 
 had had a serious quarrel over Arnold's freak. 
 In the end, perhaps, Leonard Sterne pitied 
 the Doctor almost as much as himself. 
 
 As weeks went by, Joseph Haply made 
 the singular discovery that while the Doctor 
 wrote regularly to his son, the latter never 
 replied — at least, in his own handwriting 
 From time to time several letters, some of 
 them weighty, arrived from Oxford, but in 
 no case were they directed by Arnold. This 
 struck the worthy postmaster as a curious 
 circumstance which ought to be threshed out,
 
 THE RIVAL TUTORS. 129 
 
 SO he and his friends hammered at it nightly 
 in the bar-parlour of the Lark's-Nest. 
 
 It was also noticed that the Doctor went 
 away more frequently than he used to do, 
 and that on his return he invariably wore a 
 jaded look, hard though he tried to conceal it. 
 
 On one of these occasions he was met by 
 Hebe Pike. She was a vivacious young lady, 
 rather short in stature, with a cheerful rosy 
 face, dark golden hair, sharp brown eyes, 
 and a mischievous mouth. " The rustic 
 beauty," was the title given her by the 
 pupils ; but there was a briskness about Miss 
 Hebe's manner that hinted at her turning out 
 what is called a managing woman. 
 
 " When do you expect Arnold back. Dr. 
 Copingstone ? " she asked, without any 
 preface. 
 
 ^' Oh, soon — soon, I hope." 
 
 *' But," said she, remembering the near 
 approach of Christmas, '' I thought the term 
 ended before this." 
 
 " Ah yes ; but Arnold is an uncommonly 
 slow fellow, always behind everybody else. 
 
 VOL. I. K
 
 130 THE OLD ADAM. 
 
 Good afternoon, Miss Pike. Remember me 
 kindly to your flither and mother." And 
 he went off at the breakneck speed which he 
 always adopted to show what a busy man he 
 was. 
 
 Now, Hebe had been expecting to hear 
 from Arnold for many weeks, but no letter 
 had arrived. Though greatly distressed at his 
 apparent desertion, she was much too proud 
 to show it. In the whole course of her life, 
 nothing more perplexing had occurred to her 
 than his continued silence, and the Doctor's 
 abrupt manner only added to the mystery. 
 Should she write to Arnold ? Surely it would 
 not be unmaidenly to ask him for an explana- 
 tion of his conduct when they were actually 
 engaged ? At any rate, he had not returned 
 the gold pencil-case she had given him, and 
 she was still wearing his ring. 
 
 While she was thinking over the matter, 
 she overtook Mr. Yalentine Gaunt, walking 
 along the street with dignified importance. 
 A sudden thought flashed into her mind. He 
 was the Doctor's right-hand man, and might
 
 THE EIVAL TUTORS. 131 
 
 be able to give her some information. Rely- 
 ing upon tlie secrecy of her engagement, she 
 put the question to him point-blank. 
 
 He pulled a big meerschaum pipe out of his 
 mouth and stared at her curiously. He had 
 not considered the matter worth his notice 
 before, but her words had set him thinking. 
 Suppose, after all, there was something wrong 
 with Arnold, would not this give him another 
 powerful lever against the Doctor ? 
 
 " I imagine," he said, " he is still at Oxford, 
 but I am going to make inquiries. Shall I 
 let you know tbe result, Miss Hebe ? " 
 
 " Oh dear, no," she replied. " But it is a 
 little past the end of the term, isn't it ? " 
 
 " Perhaps so," he said, smiling at her ques- 
 tion, which gave a direct denial to her careless 
 tones. " I never thought of that." 
 
 The same evening two letters were posted 
 to Arnold Copingstone, Esq., Christchurch, 
 Oxford.
 
 132 THE OLD ADAM. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 THE doctor's dilemma. 
 
 One morning about a week later, some busi- 
 ness in connection with the tradesmen's 
 accounts took Leonard Sterne to the Rectory. 
 He- found the study deserted, but, knowing 
 the Doctor's regular habits, resolved to wait. 
 In order to pass the time, he strolled about 
 looking at the pictures. 
 
 One in particular arrested his attention — 
 an oil painting of the Doctor which had 
 evidently been done many years ago. Of 
 course, Sterne had often noticed it before, 
 but he had never had such a good opportunity 
 of examining the frame, which was peculiar. 
 It was very broad, very old-fashioned, and of 
 remarkable depth, standing not quite six
 
 THE DOCTOR'S DILEMMA. 133 
 
 inches from the wall and making the other 
 pictures appear very flat by comparison. 
 Looking at it sideways, Sterne observed a 
 crack all the way round the centre of the 
 edge. 
 
 " Hullo ! " he exclaimed suddenly. " What 
 is the meaning of this ? " 
 
 He had turned it round, and was astonished 
 to find another picture behind. Both frames 
 were precisely the same shape and size, and, 
 being glued back to back, fitted so exactly 
 that it was almost impossible to detect the 
 joining. 
 
 The painting turned to the wall was 
 apparently a likeness of the Doctor when a 
 young man. It was easy to trace the 
 resemblance in the features, though the ex- 
 pression was very different, being bold and 
 almost reckless. In his imagination Sterne 
 tried to paint in a white tie and a blue coat, 
 but the effect was scarcely satisfactory. 
 
 " Ha ! " said the Doctor, entering the room, 
 " you have found me out at last." 
 
 Sterne coloured slightly, feeling almost as
 
 134 THE OLD ADAM. 
 
 if he had been caught in an underhand act. 
 But the Doctor's look speedily reassured him. 
 
 " Is this your portrait ? " be asked. 
 
 " No, Sterne, certainly not. That's the old 
 Adam. The rascal is dead and buried years 
 ago. I have hung him there out of a sneak- 
 ing regard for his memory, and turned his 
 face to the wall out of respect for my present 
 self. I was a sad dog in those days — a sad 
 dog — a sad dog." He repeated the expression 
 with evident delight, and bis twinkling eyes 
 broke into a smile as he added, " But it 
 wouldn't do to let everybody know it." 
 
 " Perhaps so," said Sterne, with a quiet 
 s^ile, as if he too was looking back across 
 the years at some youthfu] escapade. " But 
 it is not everybody who can kill and bury the 
 old Adam." 
 
 " There you are right. He is as tenacious 
 of life as an eel. But I have managed it. 
 There he hangs. Turn his face to the wall, 
 Sterne — gently — gently — so. Let us leave 
 him in peace." 
 
 It was a very suggestive incident. Sterne
 
 THE DOCTOR'S DILEMMA. 135 
 
 knew too much about the Doctor to be easily 
 deceived by his light manner, it was so often 
 used to hide something lying beneath. Had 
 he got hold of a clue to Mr. Valentine 
 Gaunt's influence ? It was not impossible 
 that the two had met in the past, and that 
 the one was in possession of a secret which 
 the other feared might injure his reputation. 
 No doubt merely some boyish prank, if the 
 truth were known. 
 
 Here Higgins entered with a huge pile of 
 letters on a salver. 
 
 The Doctor's manner changed instantly. 
 He dropped into the chair at the writing- 
 table, put on his glasses, and seized the 
 letters with trembling eagerness, which was 
 rendered only the more conspicuous by his 
 attempt to disguise it. As he turned them 
 over, his face gradually assumed a look of 
 bitter disappointment. He could wear the 
 mask no longer. With an irrepressible sigh, 
 he selected a large envelope from the heap 
 and carried it to the window where he could 
 examine it unobserved. It contained three
 
 136 THE OLD ADAM. 
 
 letters addressed to Arnold at Oxford, one 
 from Mr. Valentine Gaunt, another from 
 Hebe Pike, and the third merely a blank 
 sheet of paper enclosed in an envelope directed 
 by the Doctor himself. 
 
 Oh, what a foolish old man he was, with 
 his vaunted cunning which did so much to 
 neutralize his better nature ! Instead of 
 taking the bull by the horns, he was always 
 trying to dodge it, and felt a real delight in 
 doing so successfully. Fearing lest a breath 
 of scandal should scatter his pupils to the 
 four winds, he was continually plumping 
 down some carefully devised fraud to cover 
 the deficiency, with the not infrequent result 
 of finding himself in a worse difficulty. How 
 he would have trembled had he known that 
 Arnold was at that very moment living with 
 one of Mr. Valentine Gaunt's friends ! 
 
 He clung to the hope that he might yet 
 find his son and induce him to return to 
 Oxford before his absence became known, 
 but, on this point, he could not bring himself 
 to deceive Nellie. This strange man stopped
 
 THE DOCTOR'S DILEMMA. 137 
 
 short at imposing upon his daughter's feelings ; 
 he could not carry his conjuring tricks so far 
 as this, though he did bind her to secrecy, 
 and for his sake she was obliged to consent. 
 
 If he was fonder of Nellie now that she 
 alone was left to him, the knowledge that 
 she possessed his secret also made him a little 
 afraid of her. In fact, she stood upon a 
 higher moral platform than he did, though 
 he was careful not to put the matter with 
 such disagreeable bluntness even to himself 
 It was for this reason that be had not followed 
 up Mr. Valentine Gaunt's hint, and the 
 necessity for immediate action had been 
 averted by Nellie's prevailing upon Philip 
 not to say a word about their engagement 
 for the present. 
 
 But events were in the saddle and were 
 pressing the Doctor hard. Mr. Valentine 
 Gaunt and Hebe were in pursuit of Arnold, 
 the capture of their letters giving the Doctor 
 a keen enjoyment even at such a time as 
 this ; Leonard Sterne, having got an inkling 
 that something was wrong, was preparing to
 
 138 THE OLD ADAM. 
 
 take a more active part ; and Philip was 
 urging Nellie to let him speak to her father 
 at once — or, at leasts to tell him her reason 
 for remaining silent. Such heing the case, it 
 would require all the Doctor's skill to ward 
 off disaster. 
 
 While he was reading his letters, con- 
 gratulating himself that Hebe at any rate 
 was not the cause of Arnold's disappearance, 
 Nellie and Philip were in the meadow beyond 
 the Eectory garden. 
 
 They were standing near a clump of alders 
 on_the sedgy bank of the mill-dam, through 
 which passed a loop-canal from the Splash- 
 water. In front towered Camel back, curving 
 gradually upwards in grassy slopes on which 
 were dotted white patches of sheep ; and on 
 the left stood the old mill, with its cumbrous 
 wooden wheel and high-peaked roof and 
 lattice windows. A number of ducks were 
 paddhng about the pond, and in a quiet 
 corner among the reeds a grey old water-rat 
 was busily engaged in washing his face, for 
 it was a bright sunny day.
 
 THE DOCTOR'S DILEMMA. 139 
 
 " What a toilet the old fellow is makino; ! " 
 observed Philip. 
 
 " You have not asked me out here to talk 
 about rats," replied Nellie slyly. 
 
 " That is true," he said, turning sharply to 
 lay his hands upon her shoulders and to gaze 
 wistfully into her blue eyes. "• Nellie, my pet, 
 how much longer do you wish me to wait ? 
 I can't bear waiting at any time, and now — 
 well, it scarcely seems fair to your father." 
 
 Nellie looked at him in troubled perplexity. 
 She was not allowed to tell him about 
 Arnold, so how could she make him under- 
 stand that the delay was as much for her 
 father's sake as for her own ? She would 
 not have plighted her troth had she not 
 taken Arnold's safety for granted, and now 
 reproached herself for her impatience to 
 make sure of her own happiness. It will 
 be observed that in Nellie's wish to keep 
 silent that good might come of it, there was 
 a slight touch of the Doctor. 
 
 " Philip," she said tremulously, " do you 
 really, ideally mind waiting — for me ? "
 
 140 THE OLD ADAM. 
 
 "Mind waiting! You know I don't, 
 Nellie. But then there is your father to be 
 considered." 
 
 " But suppose he would prefer to wait ? " 
 
 " Ought we to suppose that, Nellie ? My 
 darling, I do so long to call you my very 
 own. So let me go at once ! I'm quite sure 
 it will be the best way in the end." 
 
 Nellie wavered. " Not to-day," she pleaded. 
 
 " Then to-morrow," he cried, his eves 
 flashing with a happy light. " I'll see your 
 father the first thing." 
 
 " Oh, Philip, please wait till next week. 
 If you only knew all, you really would." 
 
 He looked at her with a sudden pang of 
 doubt. " It's nothing about the missing 
 photograph ? " he said. 
 
 " Indeed no." With a quick movement 
 she disengaged herself from his grasp and 
 stood nearer the alders. " There is Dr. 
 Fogge," she said, " going to the Eectory to 
 visit Martha. Oh, Philip, do you think he 
 noticed us ? " 
 
 "Not he," declared Philip, anxious to
 
 THE DOCTORS DILEMMA. 141 
 
 reassure her. " He is as blincb as a bat. 
 But " — he was unwilling to lose such an 
 excellent chance — " you see now how dis- 
 agreeable our position is, don't you, Nellie ? " 
 
 Dr. Fogge, however, was not as blind as 
 Philip thought. Moreover, he was a regular 
 old woman, ready to gossip with the first 
 person he met. This happened to be Tattle- 
 maine, one of the dullest of the pupils, who 
 was thoughtfully drilling a hole with his 
 stick through the wall near the Doctor's 
 house. 
 
 " Have you noticed," said Dr. Fogge, 
 " whether Philip Strathclyde and Nellie 
 Copingstone have been a good deal together 
 lately?" 
 
 " No," replied Tattlemaine, with a vacant 
 stare. 
 
 " Then you have not heard anything about 
 an engagement ? " 
 
 '' Not a word. Is it true ? " 
 
 Dr. Fogge laughed. 
 
 " By Jove ! " cried Tattlemaine, and bolted 
 off to discuss this matter.
 
 142 THE OLD ADAM. 
 
 At the butcher's shop, close to the bridge 
 over the Splashwater, he paused a moment. 
 
 " Heard the latest ? " he inquired of Gam- 
 mon, who happened to be standing at his 
 door. 
 
 " Queen Victoria ascended the throne, Mr. 
 Tattlemaine ? " said the butcher, with a loud 
 guffaw at his own incomparable wit. 
 
 " Dry up. Gammon," was the blunt retort. 
 " Mr. Strathclyde is going to be married to 
 Miss Copingstone." 
 
 Without another word. Gammon whipped 
 off his apron and went away up the street as 
 fast as his fat legs would carry him. " I 
 know a thiug or two," he muttered ; and to 
 do him justice, he certainly did, one of them 
 being to cut the boniest chop that ever came 
 out of a butcher's shop. He acted as one 
 of the Doctor's scouts, and it was in this 
 capacity that he presented himself at the 
 Rectory and related what he had just heard. 
 
 The Doctor was furiously indignant. He 
 first summoned Tattlemaine and ordered him 
 to contradict the report ; then he sent for
 
 THE DOCTOR'S DILEIvIMA. 14.3 
 
 Nellie. Though he would gladly have pro- 
 crastinated, he was forced to act at last. 
 
 " Nellie," he said severely, " what is this I 
 hear of you and Philip Strathclyde ? " 
 
 " Of me and Philip Strathclyde ! " 
 
 She stood there blushing in very pretty 
 confusion. If only she had allowed Philip 
 to speak ! Perhaps he had spoken. 
 
 " Yes," said the Doctor, frowning at her ; 
 " is there anything between you tw^o ? " 
 
 No, Philip had clearly not spoken. Then 
 it must be that wretch Dr. Fogge. Unable 
 to defend herself, Nellie fell back upon that 
 maidenly resource, flippancy. 
 
 " Anything between us, father ? About 
 fifty yards at present." 
 
 She flung her arms about his neck and 
 began to kiss him vehemently. 
 
 " There, there ! " he said, drawing himself 
 away from the pouting lips ; " be good enough 
 to tell me how you can be so precise about 
 Strathclyde's present distance from here." 
 
 She coloured with vexation. " He is at 
 the Hut," she said.
 
 144 THE OLD ADAM. 
 
 " Oh, he is — is he ? I have a good mind 
 to have him over here to explain this 
 matter. Has he been talking any nonsense 
 to you ? " 
 
 '' Philip doesn't talk nonsense," replied 
 Nellie, with laughable dignity, and quite 
 forgetful of the need for caution. 
 
 " It has come to Philip, has it ? Well, this 
 is a nice business ! Let me tell you this, 
 Nellie : though all the peers and peeresses in 
 the kingdom were to plead in his favour, I 
 would never consent to your marriage with 
 PhiHp Strathclyde." 
 
 The words were so unexpected that Nellie 
 almost staggered back, her poor little mouth 
 quivering piteously and her eyes filling with 
 tears. 
 
 " Why are you so bitter against him ? " 
 she faltered. 
 
 " Bitter against him ! There is not a nicer, 
 more gentlemanly young fellow in the whole 
 place. But think of my position, dear ! 
 Suppose you were to marry a pupil, away 
 would go all the others like a frightened flock
 
 THE DOCTOR'S DILEMMA. 145 
 
 of sheep. It would be ruin — -utter ruin. 
 Don't you see that, dear ? " 
 
 " No, father, I don't." 
 
 ^' Come and kiss me, then. There ! Now 
 remember that what I have said is solely for 
 your benefit. It distresses me to have to 
 
 oppose your wishes and Good-bye, 
 
 darling." 
 
 Nellie hastily disappeared, while the Doctor 
 took off his glasses and began to wipe them. 
 
 As Nellie had said, Philip was at that 
 moment at the Hut. Thinking it prudent to 
 secure his friend's alliance, he had obtained 
 her permission to take Leonard Sterne into 
 their confidence. The latter was smokine* 
 and writing, when Philip entered the study 
 and took a seat in the bow-window. 
 
 " I have some news that will surprise you," 
 announced Philip, lighting a cigarette. 
 
 "Nothing would surprise me in Puddle* 
 ton." 
 
 " This will." 
 
 " I doubt it," said Sterne, with a smile. 
 
 '' Guess, then." 
 
 VOL. J. L
 
 146 THE OLD ADAM. 
 
 " You are engaged to Nellie." 
 
 " Good gracious ! " cried Philip in amaze- 
 ment. " How did you find out ? Who told 
 jou ? Somebody must have done." 
 
 " How do you like the view from the 
 window, Philip ? " 
 
 " Oh, bother the view I " 
 
 *' But do just turn your head ! Camelback 
 looks beautiful in this light, and that clump 
 of alders " 
 
 Philip gave an awkward little laugh. " I 
 believe you sit in the window all day long 
 wil.h an opera-glass," he said ; " but it didn't 
 come off then, for all that." 
 
 " Lucy told me to be prepared for it some 
 weeks ago. Women have wonderfully keen 
 sight for anything of the sort. Well, Philip, 
 I congratulate you with my whole heart. 
 You are an uncommonly lucky fellow. If I 
 had my chance over again, I don't know that 
 I wouldn't " 
 
 " Do what, sir ? " demanded his wife, 
 tapping him playfully on the shoulder. 
 
 " Enter the lists against Philip."
 
 THE DOCTOR'S DILEMMA. 147 
 
 " If you say much, I'll run away with the 
 Doctor." 
 
 " You couldn't do me a greater service, 
 Mrs. Sterne," laughed Philip, '' for he is 
 horribly in my way at present. I have yet 
 
 to learn his opinion, and Oh, by-the-by, 
 
 some scoundrel has stolen one of Nellie's 
 photographs." 
 
 " Do you know whom I suspect ? " inquired 
 Mrs. Sterne. "Mr. Valentine Gaunt." 
 
 " Lucy ! " said her husband, holding up his 
 finger reproachfully. 
 
 He shuddered nevertheless, for his wife's 
 words opened up a prospect of dreadful pos- 
 sibilities. Was not it likely that Mr. Valen- 
 tine Gaunt would use his influence to bring- 
 about a marriage with Nellie, and that the 
 Doctor might yield on the score of expe- 
 diency ? Sterne would have thought it still 
 m^ore likely had he known that Arnold had 
 made it almost impossible for him to assume 
 the head of his father's establishment. He 
 was always ready to admit that his wife had 
 a keener perception than himself, and now
 
 148 THE OLD ADAM. 
 
 that he came to reflect, he rememhered many 
 little things tending to confirm her opinion. 
 While he deeply regretted that circumstances 
 should be always bringing him into conflict 
 with Mr. Yalentine Graunt, he would not on 
 that account shrink from what he conceived 
 to be his duty. He felt that he should use 
 every means in his power to frustrate any 
 plot aiming at the sacrifice of Nellie's happi- 
 ness. It was certainly not a question of 
 rivalry now, he told himself; it was simply 
 and solely a question of right and wrong. 
 Pei'haps the fact that he considered it neces- 
 sary to argue the point at all, may throw a 
 little doubt upon his conclusion. 
 
 " Kemember, Philip," he said, " I cannot 
 compel the Doctor's sanction, and I should 
 not advise Nellie to marry you without it ; 
 but as you tell me that you are both really 
 in love with one another, I shall do my best 
 to help you. What you have to do now is 
 to state your case to the Doctor, plainly, 
 straightforwardly, and fearlessly. Don't be 
 afraid of him ; be firm. I know him better
 
 THE DOCTOR'S DILEMMA. 149 
 
 than you do. You must show bim that you 
 mean business." 
 
 Here was more trouble in store for the 
 unfortunate Doctor. It was coming, too, 
 from a quarter from which he least expected it. 
 
 The next day Leonard Sterue set about 
 fulfilling his share in the undertaking. It 
 was absolutely necessary, he felt, to investi- 
 gate Mr. Valentine Gaunt's antecedents. 
 With this purpose in view, he went to 
 London in order to interview the educational 
 agent. 
 
 Curiously enough, Mr. Valentine Gaunt 
 went by the same train to pay a visit to 
 M. Dubarri. For the sake of appearances, 
 the two tutors travelled in the same compart- 
 ment, though they might almost as well have 
 been apart for all they said to one another.
 
 150 THE OLD ADAM. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 FOUND. 
 
 Notwithstanding the gloom of Momus Street, 
 there was sufficient dissimilarity between the 
 tastes and dispositions of the inmates of 
 No. 13 to prevent the monotony from grow- 
 ing'wearisome. M. Dubarri was quick, rest- 
 less, noisy, and at times even boisterous; 
 Arnold was slow, dilatory, and imperturbable. 
 M. Dubarri had no objection to dust, and 
 regarded cobwebs as suitable appendages to 
 a ceiling, in which opinion he was confirmed 
 by an ancient housekeeper and a pale-faced 
 servant-girl ; Arnold preferred to look upon 
 these things through the medium of an inter- 
 vening: window. M. Dubarri loved onions 
 and revelled in garlic ; Arnold simply loathed
 
 FOUND. 151 
 
 them. In short, the two had not a single 
 point in common. It was only when they 
 sat down after dinner, to a bottle of vin- 
 ordinaire, which M. Dubarri always handled 
 as tenderly and proudly as if it had been of 
 the choicest vintage, that there was anything 
 like rest in the house. At such times he 
 smoked cigarettes with the same fierceness 
 that he did everything else. 
 
 Besides a certain ability in teaching elocu- 
 tion, he displayed singular dexterity in draw- 
 ing the long bow, the shots that he made 
 being often so wide of the truth as to cause 
 even Arnold to open his eyes in amazement. 
 He knew, he said, every theatrical manager 
 in London. It subsequently turned out that 
 he had a nodding acquaintance with one 
 music-hall proprietor. He was hand-in-glove 
 with all the leading actors ; yet, somehow 
 or other, they never recognized him in the 
 street. He had the whole of the daily press 
 at his back, but the daily press afterwards 
 ^resolved itself into two compositors, who so 
 far resembled one another that they both had
 
 152 THE OLD ADAM. 
 
 red noses and a decided preference for pewter 
 to type metal. When such little discrepancies 
 began to crop np, Arnold felt that accuracy 
 was not the Professor's strong point, but he 
 was too easy-going to permit an occasional 
 slip of the tongue to interfere between them. 
 
 In one way M. Dubarri certainly proved 
 a very efficient tutor. He was as pertinacious 
 as a gadfly, stinging his phlegmatic pupil 
 into ceaseless activity, and making him do 
 his utmost out of sheer desperation. Arnold 
 was obliged to be up and doing, reading, 
 reciting, studying continually, while the 
 Professor suited the action to the word by 
 dashing about the room. The latter also was 
 a valuable ally in getting a large number of 
 orders for the theatres, so that Arnold was 
 enabled to study better models without any 
 drain on his purse. 
 
 As soon as he showed tolerable proficiency, 
 he was sent to search for an engagement, and 
 from that time added to his other occupations 
 the arduous work of manager-baiting. He 
 waylaid them at the theatres ; called upon
 
 FOUND. 153 
 
 them at their private houses ; hunted them 
 down at their clubs ; talked, argued, badgered ; 
 but all to no purpose. They would have 
 none of him. " No room," was the invariable 
 and disheartening answer. 
 
 " Cheer up, my young friend ! " said M. 
 Dubarri one December morning. '' You have 
 been aiming at the sparrows and have hit 
 nothing. Bah ! they are very small game. 
 Let them go ; they are not worth your powder 
 and shot. The eagle, is he not bigger ? Is 
 he not easier to hit ? You shall bag him, 
 my friend ; at least, you shall try. That will 
 suit your book, I think." 
 
 Arnold assented with a nod of the head. 
 Though he failed to comprehend the Pro- 
 fessor's metaphor, he had already learnt that 
 a question usually wound the Professor up 
 afresh. 
 
 " You know to whom I allude ? " he went 
 on, blinking through his pince-nez. ^' No ! 
 To Mr. Footlight, the great actor, the lessee 
 of the Parnassus. He is your man for sure. 
 You shall go to him at once. Away with
 
 154 THE OLD ADAM. 
 
 you, my friend ! Sapristi ! he engages my 
 pupil as soon as lie claps eyes on him." 
 
 " But a glow-worm among the stars ! " 
 remonstrated Arnold. 
 
 " You are talking rubbish, my friend, if 
 you will excuse me for being frank. How is 
 he to show off his great lights ? Why " — 
 with the forefinger of each hand he traced 
 little circles in the air — '' by having little 
 ones to twinkle, twinkle, twinkle alongside, 
 of course. Do you not see it, you with the 
 grand passion ? When an artist wishes to 
 show the height of a building, what does he 
 do ? Sets down a dot for a man. JSh Men I 
 You are the dot. Come, I shake you by the 
 hand, and you go." 
 
 Thereupon M. Dubarri affectionately em- 
 braced his pupil, escorted him to the door, 
 and pushed him out of the house. For some 
 time he stood on the doorstep, kissing his 
 hand to the great tall fellow, who walked 
 slowly on without once looking back. 
 
 Arnold had scarcely turned out of Momus 
 Street when there came along a hansom con-
 
 FOUND. 155 
 
 taining a single occupant. In spite of the 
 top hat, the cigar, and the lordly air of 
 indolence, it was easy to recognize in the 
 heavy overhanging forehead, shaggy brows, 
 high cheek-bones, and grey mutton-chop 
 whiskers, the sinister face of Mr. Valentine 
 Gaunt. 
 
 How little thought the unfortunate man, 
 scheming and plotting in Puddleton, of the 
 perils he was running in London ! At this 
 very moment he was elaborating a little plan 
 for making Mr. Valentine Gaunt believe that 
 Arnold was still at Oxford, and here were 
 the two within a few feet of one another in 
 London ! 
 
 However, neither saw the other, so the 
 danger was averted for the time. Mr. 
 Valentine Gaunt went on his way to visit 
 M. Dubarri, and Arnold to interview Mr. 
 Footlight, whom he was fortunate enough to 
 meet at the entrance to the theatre. 
 
 The lessee of the Parnassus was a stout, 
 ruddy-faced, smooth-shaven man, with a droll 
 expression, and a habit of clipping his sen-
 
 156 THE OLD ADAM. 
 
 fences as if he were pressed for time. He 
 wore a large overcoat with an Astracan collar 
 and cuffs. 
 
 "Wish to see me on business, Mr. Cressing- 
 ham ? " he said. '' Hope it's not a bill." 
 
 " I am anxious to go on the stage." 
 
 " Shan't prevent you, but can't help you." 
 
 This was discouraging. But following 
 M. Dubarri's advice, Arnold persevered with : 
 " Perhaps if I gave you a Shakesperian 
 recitation, you might think better of it." 
 Unconsciously he fell into one of his tutor's 
 attitudes, ready to commence. 
 
 Mr. Footlight looked at him with a critical 
 smile. '' We like," he said, " our dishes 
 served up au naturel. Act as much as you 
 like in private life, but not on the stage." 
 
 " Shall I go ahead ? " said Arnold. 
 
 " Thanks. Don't care much about it. 
 Fond of Shakespeare; rather old, perhaps. 
 Heard him before, at any rate." 
 
 "Mr. Footlight, will you answer me one 
 question ? Where is a beginner to begin ? " 
 
 " On anybody's boards but mine. Lease
 
 FOUND. 157 
 
 the Parnassus myself, and can't afford to let 
 you practise on my customers. Try a paid 
 manager. Better still, go and practise on 
 the provincials. If you succeed, London 
 manager, having a look round during his 
 holiday, may take a fancy to you." 
 
 " So I am to wait till then, am I ? Good 
 morning, Mr. Footlight." 
 
 Though he spoke in his usual drawling 
 tones, his face clouded for a moment ; but he 
 showed no stronger sign of disappointment 
 than this. A butcher's boy charged against 
 him in the street and bounded off again, but 
 Arnold's serenity was quite undisturbed by 
 the collision. He walked steadily on with an 
 impassive demeanour that would have done 
 credit to an Indian chief 
 
 Almost exactly opposite M. Dubarri's door, 
 a couple of young urchins were engaged in 
 a fight ; at least, they were flinging strong 
 language at one another from behind their 
 clenched fists, then making a wild dash 
 during which heads, legs, and arms got 
 strangely mingled, and then separating to
 
 158 THE OLD ADAM. 
 
 fling strong language again, while their com- 
 panions conducted a sort of war-dance around 
 them. Arnold stopped to see what was 
 going on. While he was still watching, a 
 door opened and closed behind him. A 
 powerful round-shouldered figure stood on 
 tlie step, with one foot hovering in the air. 
 
 " Aruold, you here ? " 
 
 He turned round and found himself face to 
 face with Mr. Valentine Gaunt, who, having 
 satisfactorily tested his opinion, now brought 
 his foot to the ground. 
 
 " What have you been doing in my 
 house ? " inquired Arnold. 
 
 " Your house ! " 
 
 " You didn't come to see me, then ? " 
 
 "Do you live here ? " 
 
 " Certainly." 
 
 Mr. Yalentine Gaunt made a movement 
 with his hand, and the two walked on to the 
 end of the street. So far his expression 
 denoted little surprise. He was too methodical 
 to accept a new thing all of a sudden, and 
 then it had to be fitted in with his plans.
 
 FOUND. 159 
 
 *' How long have you been living there ? " 
 he asked when they stopped. 
 
 " Since I left Puddleton, almost." 
 
 Mr. Valentine Gaunt turned away his head 
 to conceal the smile of malicious triumph. So 
 the Doctor had been flaunting a lie in the 
 face of his parishioners ! This was indeed a 
 pleasant bit of news. When he had regained 
 control over his features, he asked with grave 
 and watchful interest — 
 
 " Are you living with my friend M. 
 Dubarri ? " 
 
 " Yes," replied Arnold, returning the 
 other s curious look ; " but I didn't know 
 until now that he was your friend." 
 
 Mr. Yalentine Graunt passed this by, his 
 object being to get and not give information. 
 " How did you become acquainted with 
 him ? " he inquired. 
 
 " I trod on his foot, so he gave me his 
 hand. Rather an odd way of commencing 
 business, wasn't it ? We have been the best 
 of friends ever since." 
 
 " Ah ! now I begin to understand. You
 
 160 THE OLD ADAM. 
 
 are Mr. Cressingliam when you are at home : 
 which, by tlie way, is not often, for I have 
 been several times at the house without seeing 
 you." 
 
 '^ I have been busy," said Arnold, grimly. 
 " I have followed your advice, and am now 
 a rising actor." 
 
 " The deuce you are ! " exclaimed Mr. 
 "Valentine Gaunt, breaking into a gruff laugh. 
 He was so delighted that he really couldn't 
 help it. ''I'm uncommonly glad to hear it." 
 
 '^ I have not got my head above the foot- 
 lights yet, but M. Dubarri assures me that I 
 am undoubtedly rising. The talent, sir, is 
 all here " — he tapped his forehead in imitation 
 of the Histrionic Professor — '* waiting, like 
 champagne, to bubble out as soon as some one 
 gives it a chance." 
 
 *' But tell me, bar chaff, Arnold, have you 
 obtained an engagement and performed in 
 public ? " 
 
 " I have just been charming our leading 
 comedian. He thought so highly of my per- 
 formance, that he advised me to go on tour
 
 FOUND, 16 L 
 
 in the provinces. Cockneys, he said, can't 
 recognize ability in an actor, until he has 
 received a few lessons from his country 
 cousins." 
 
 Mr. Valentine Gaunt looked rather dis- 
 appointed. " You will stick at it, of course," 
 he said in his slow grating tones. " A few 
 failures at the outset are inevitable." 
 
 " I can't turn back now^ even if I would." 
 " Right, Arnold, quite right. Keep steadily 
 on. Success must reward your persistence 
 eventually. To him who perseveres the time 
 comes." 
 
 " Unless he die of starvation meanwhile." 
 " Ah ! " said Mr. Valentine Gaunt, with a 
 quick look of intelligence. " I know you 
 will excuse the question from a friend, but 
 how is the money market ? " 
 
 " Thanks, I am in funds at present." 
 " You know, Arnold, I am not a wealthy 
 man, but if you should be hard up, I shall 
 always be glad to make a push to help you. 
 Of course, I thoroughly understand that you 
 can't go to the Doctor — at least, until you can 
 
 VOL. I. M
 
 162 THE OLD ADAM. 
 
 go as a successful man ; I enter into your 
 feelings there. T think you are wise, but 
 you must not on that account get into diffi- 
 culties. When you want money, come to me 
 as your friend ; I'll be your banker as far as 
 my limited means will permit." 
 
 " It's very kind of you " 
 
 " Not a word of thanks, I beg," said Mr. 
 Valentine Gaunt, with a lofty wave of the 
 hand. " You wouldn't like anybody in 
 Puddleton to know that I have met you ? " 
 
 " Certainly not." 
 
 " You forbid me to mention it ? " 
 "'' Well, yes, as you put it that way, I do/' 
 replied Arnold, smiling at this cautious 
 question. 
 
 " There is nothing like method," explained 
 Mr. Valentine Graunt. " I like to have 
 everything carefully arranged beforehand ; it 
 is the only way to avoid difficulties and dis- 
 appointments. One point more. Should you 
 happen to mention my name to M. Dubarri — 
 and perhaps it would be better not to do so — 
 don't tell him how you come to know me.
 
 FOUND. 163 
 
 Say nothing about Puddleton, in fact, unless 
 you wish to see the Doctor in Momus Street. 
 Between ourselves, Arnold " — he laid his 
 hand confidentially on Arnold's shoulder — 
 " between ourselves, M. Dubarri is a very 
 good fellow, but he is not altogether to be 
 trusted. As a friend, I think it only right 
 to set you on your guard. The fewer secrets 
 you give him to keep, the better. And now 
 good-bye, Arnold. I have only just time to 
 catch my train." 
 
 He shook hands with the young man, 
 hailed a passing hansom, and drove off to 
 the station. 
 
 He v/as already well known at Stilbury ; 
 and when the train stopped there, two porters 
 rushed at the compartment, seized his belong- 
 ing, and escorted him to the dogcart which 
 had been sent to meet him by Mr. Smirke, 
 proprietor of the Lark's-Nest. He tried hard 
 to look as if this ceremonious treatment was a 
 mere matter of course — something that he 
 had been accustomed to all his life ; but the 
 fact that, in spite of a remarkably stingy dis-
 
 164 THE OLD ADAM. 
 
 position, he gave the men a shilling apiece, 
 speaks for itself. 
 
 John, the rough-coated driver, was equally 
 obsequious, continually insisting that the rug 
 Avas not wrapped round Mr. Yalentine Graunt's 
 legs, and chattering through all the latest 
 gossip, while the dogcart rattled along the 
 rugged twisting road ; now passing by the 
 side of a swirling brook, now diving into an 
 avenue of leafless trees, which met and parted 
 overhead as the wind whistled among their 
 branches, and now laboriously climbing a 
 hill whence the surrounding country, as far 
 as Camelback, could be seen lying cold and 
 stiff beneath the touch of approaching winter. 
 At the entrance to the village, the dogcart 
 overtook Hebe Pike. The wind had loosed 
 a lock of her golden hair, and the brisk pace 
 at which she was walking had given a ruddy 
 tint to her cheeks, and a brighter sparkle to 
 her eyes. Mr. Valentine Gaunt felt that the 
 pupils were right in calling her " the rustic 
 beauty." 
 
 But her appearance put also another
 
 FOUND. 165 
 
 thought into his head. Strange that circum- 
 stances should be so suggestive. It seemed 
 as if he originated nothing, but merely acted 
 upon the suggestions that they made to him. 
 At this time he was inclined to think himself 
 the favoured child of fortune, though he sub- 
 sequently took a different view of the matter. 
 
 He stopped the dogcart and alighted. 
 
 " Miss Pike," he began, in his watchful 
 way, " as a mutual friend, perhaps I may be 
 allowed to say that I know" — disconcerted 
 by her sharp look, he substituted — "well, 
 more than guess your engagement to 
 Arnold.'^ 
 
 Hebe's face turned a deep crimson, and her 
 eyes instinctively sought the little gold circlet 
 on her finger. She hastily withdrew it from 
 sight. He caught the look and the move- 
 ment, and smiled. Certain of his ground 
 now, this human cat took his next step. 
 
 '' What business is it of mine, you may 
 ask ? Arnold told me of it himself." 
 
 " Oh ! " she cried, as if from a sudden 
 spasm of pain. After a pause, she added;
 
 166 THE OLD ADAM. 
 
 scarcely above a whisper, " Then you have 
 seen him ? '' 
 
 " I am bound to secrecy, but if you can 
 keep a secret — — " 
 
 " Mr. Graunt," said Hebe, proudly, her whole 
 manner, except the tightly clasped hands, 
 strangely at variance with her previous 
 agitation, " Arnold Copingstone is nothing 
 to me. I must ask you not to mention his name 
 to me again." 
 
 He glanced at the ring. It enabled him to 
 recover speedily from the shock which her 
 Vv^oj:ds gave him. 
 
 '' But suppose I have a message for you ? " 
 
 " Then please give it me." 
 
 " I should blush if I were to tell it you," he 
 laughed, and let us hope that he spoke the 
 truth. " No, no. Miss Hebe ; you must wait 
 until he can give messages of that sort in 
 person." 
 
 '' But why has he not written ? " asked 
 Hebe, sharply. 
 
 " Because he doesn't want the whole village 
 to know where he is. Joseph Haply knows
 
 FOUND. 167 
 
 liis handwriting, so he doesn't write by post. 
 He would have written to you to-day, only I 
 was in too great a hurry to catch the train. 
 But when 1 am next in London, I shall bring 
 a letter from him, and, if you wish, take 
 one." 
 
 Hebe was trembling now. He could see 
 that, though she was standing with her back 
 towards him. 
 
 " You have not told me what he is doing," 
 she said. 
 
 " Studying for the stage. He has an ex- 
 cellent tutor, whose method I can thoroughly 
 recommend, and great things are confidently 
 expected of him. Before long we shall hear 
 of him wealthy and famous." 
 
 He said a good deal more in the same strain 
 before he left her at her garden-gate. There 
 was a smile upon her bright face as she 
 stood looking after him, and her rosy lips 
 moved as if to bless the kind friend who had 
 given her the best news she had received for 
 many a long day. 
 
 He went on his way to the Hive, where he
 
 168 THE OLD ADAM. 
 
 got rid of his uncomfortable top hat, and 
 exchanged his frock coat for a light jacket. 
 Then he stuck in his mouth a large meer- 
 schaum, a monkey grinning horribly at the 
 torments it was enduring, and, with one 
 hand in his pocket, and a stout cudgel in the 
 other, sallied out to have a crack at the 
 Doctor, whose counter-plot was by this time 
 complete. In spite of his importance, there 
 was much of the Bohemian in Mr. Yalentine 
 Gaunt.
 
 ( 169 ) 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 GREEK MEETS GREEK. 
 
 Heavisides, the steady-going, had a pleasant 
 way of making himself thoroughly at home 
 wherever he might happen to be. He had 
 not long migrated from the Hut to the Hive, 
 when, he took to ordering his favourite 
 delicacies for dinner — an arrangement to 
 which Mr. Yalentine Gaunt did not venture 
 to object, lest he should lose his hardly won 
 popularity. This is one of the thorns in the 
 side of the prosperous Professor. Though 
 he could bully the Doctor, he was, in turn, 
 rather bullied by those whom he considered 
 his subordinates. 
 
 Heavisides closely resembled, in figure, a 
 Dutch cheese set on the top of a barrel. His
 
 170 THE OLD ADAM. 
 
 expression was that of stolid contentment. 
 Though very wealthy, he usually dressed 
 something like a gamekeeper — velveteen 
 jacket, brilliant fancy waistcoat, and corduroy 
 trousers. There was always a pipe in his 
 mouth ; indeed, some said that he went to 
 sleep smoking. This may or may not have 
 been true, but it is quite certain that every 
 morning he played the banjo in his bath. To 
 see him sitting in his circular tub, with a 
 placid smile on his broad good-humoured face, 
 as he strummed out some plaintive nigger 
 melody, was a sight for the gods. 
 
 Considering the solidity of his person and 
 his sedentary habits, he was curiously fond of 
 research, when, of course, it did not involve 
 much trouble, and he carried on his investi- 
 gations with a creditable thoroughness. Mr. 
 Valentine Gaunt's private sitting-room was, 
 in reality, open to all comers, and no sooner 
 did he leave the Hive than Heavisides, pro- 
 vided he had nothing more exciting on hand, 
 started on a voyage of discovery. 
 
 On . the morning of Mr. Valentine Graunt's
 
 GEEEK MEETS GREEK. 171 
 
 meeting with Arnold, Heavisides came across 
 a remarkable "find." 
 
 The Professor had given his class some 
 French translation to do, and they were 
 doing it, each after his own fashion. Tattle- 
 maine was thoughtfully launching a knife at 
 a knot in the woodwork of the door ; Plan- 
 tagenet and Silverspoon, seated cross-legged 
 upon the table, were playing " nap ; " Merri- 
 dale and some one else were in the midst of 
 a battle of books ; Philip, anxious as he was 
 to pass his examination, finding it utterly 
 impossible to write, was talking to his neigh- 
 bour;, and Heavisides, pipe in mouth, was 
 industriously exploring the contents of a cup- 
 board in a corner near the window. 
 
 Suddenly a rumbling sound, ending in a 
 loud guffaw, caused every one to look in the 
 direction whence.it proceeded. A general 
 shriek of laughter followed. Heavisides had 
 discovered an old-fashioned court wig, and 
 had put it on, his face beaming from it like a 
 full moon from the centre of a halo. " Work " 
 was instantly suspended ; every one gathered
 
 172 THE OLD ADAM. 
 
 round to inspect this mirth-moving phe- 
 nomenon. They stood in a grinning circle 
 around him ; turned him this way and that ; 
 made him walk to and fro ; and, lastly, 
 rushed at him, tore off his wig, and com- 
 menced what they called "bally-ragging." The 
 wig was sent flying from hand to hand, and 
 as it alighted by the side of Philip, he noticed 
 the maker's name and address — D. Farnienti, 
 26, Parnassus Street, London — printed upon 
 a strip of silk which was stitched inside. 
 There were some who wondered what Mr. 
 Valentine Gaunt wanted with such extra- 
 ordinary head-gear. Heavisides, who never 
 went very far for his reasons, suggested tbat 
 the Professor was as bald as a coot, but the 
 suggestion was not received with very general 
 favour. 
 
 While the riot was still at its heiglit, a 
 well-known footstep was heard outside the 
 door. It was louder than usual, and repeated 
 so often as almost to sound like a signal. At 
 any rate, every one scuttled to his place 
 with singular agility, even Heavisides showing
 
 GEEEK MEETS GREEK. 173 
 
 a manner of getting over the ground as 
 nimble as it was laughable when viewed from 
 behind. When the silence was broken only 
 by the scratching of a dozen pens, the door 
 opened, and the Doctor's head appeared. He 
 looked at each in turn, and smiled very 
 pleasantly. There was not another soul in 
 the place, not even Leonard Sterne, who 
 could manage these young fellows with such 
 charming simplicity. 
 
 " All as quiet as mice, I see," he said, 
 beaming upon them. 
 
 They looked up with surprise that any one 
 should have entered the room while they 
 were so absorbed in their tasks. 
 
 '' Aren't we good little boys, Dr. Coping- 
 stone ? " exclaimed Plantagenet, an exceed- 
 ingly tall thin youth with a comical face. 
 
 " You are indeed. Keep at it ! Work — 
 work — work ; there is nothing like work. It 
 will soon rid me of you all. A capital place 
 for work is Puddleton." 
 
 " But," said Heavisides, smiling broadly, 
 " too much of it makes Jack a dull boy."
 
 174 THE OLD ADAM. 
 
 " I don't tliliik it will be likely to hurt yon, 
 my friend," returned the Doctor, with his 
 peculiar gasping langh, in w^hich they were 
 prudent enougli to join. " But, Philip, are 
 you sure you are not overdoing it ? You 
 don't look very well, my boy. Don't you 
 think a holiday would do you good ? " 
 
 " Oh, I'm all right, Dr. Copingstone," 
 replied Philip, shortly. He was conscious of 
 agitation in the Doctor's presence, yet he 
 could not help wondering how Nellie's pale 
 face had so long escaped detection. 
 
 " Well, Philip," said the Doctor, " don't 
 overdo it ; that's all. You wouldn't like to 
 be knocked up when the time comes for your 
 examination. Remember, I'll keep my eye 
 upon you ; and the moment you show the 
 least sign of distress, away you go for a 
 holidays whether you will or not." 
 
 " Doctor," observed Heavisides, gravely, 
 " I noticed an unnatural paleness about my 
 face when I was shaving this morning. 
 Don't you think " 
 
 But, amid a roar of laughter, the Doctor
 
 GREEK MEETS GREEK. 175 
 
 slammed the door and rushed out of the 
 Hive. 
 
 As soon as he found himself alone, the 
 jaded look that had haunted his solitude so 
 frequently of late, came back to his face, and 
 he sighed wearily as if he had been under- 
 going some severe exertion. No doubt it was 
 a relief to be able to give free rein to his 
 feelings, brief as the time was, for he was 
 continually meeting some of his parishioners 
 with whom he had to smile or sympathize. 
 
 He was scarcely sorry when a quaint old 
 dame in a white cap told him of her 
 daughter's illness ; but the gloomy manner 
 that he instantly assumed with any effort, 
 was no more wholly selfish than the kindness 
 in his tones was wholly professional. The 
 old woman's tale aroused in him the com- 
 passion that springs from fellow-feeling, and 
 he surprised her with a gift of half a 
 sovereign. But, as if ashamed of his weak- 
 ness and afraid of its being taken as a pre- 
 cedent, he cautioned her not to say a word 
 about it ; and then, as usual in such cases.
 
 176 THE OLD ADAM. 
 
 sent her to the Rectory cook to get some 
 soup and jelly which had been recommended 
 by Dr. Fogge. 
 
 He was glad that he did not meet anybody 
 else after he had left her, for he felt a strange 
 fulness of heart which would have rendered 
 speech difficult. Still, when the effect of this 
 incident had passed off, he was clearly in 
 a better humour than he had been for a long 
 time, and this was, perhaps, due to the 
 absence of that man of method, Mr. Yalentine 
 Gaunt. 
 
 Two of the pretentious cobs were standing 
 at the Rectory door, Nellie already mounted 
 on one of them, and the coachman holding 
 the other. She looked exceedingly pretty in 
 her riding-habit, which showed her lithe 
 supple figure to perfection, and the little hat 
 coquettishly perched on her shapely head 
 gave a charming finish to the sweet face and 
 wondering blue eyes, and pouting lips below. 
 
 The Doctor wore, of course, his high 
 sloping hat, which made him look something 
 like a respectable brigand. He wore also a
 
 GEEEK MEETS GREEK. 177 
 
 long black overcoat and a pair of Wellington 
 boots, without which he never went out 
 riding. Nellie playfully rated him for having 
 kept her waiting so long, and he gave back 
 some laughing reply. When he had swung 
 himself into the saddle, it was strange how 
 much younger he looked. Sitting as firm as 
 a rock, he seemed to have left all his troubles 
 on the ground beneath him. Riding was his 
 delight ; indeed, it was currently reported 
 that he had more than once slipped away to 
 have a quiet run with the Stilbury Harriers, 
 and the rumour had probably more founda- 
 tion than many another about him. 
 
 It was a pleasant sight to see the father 
 and daughter riding side by side along that 
 street of old-fashioned, straggling houses, the 
 leafless creepers now plainly showing the 
 grey bricks and lattice-windows. Here was 
 a smock-frocked labourer, leaning on his hoe, 
 in his little garden ; there, a rustic mother, 
 standing in her doorway with a baby in her 
 arms, and a little chubby-cheeked girl peeping 
 shyly from behind her gown ; and scattered 
 
 VOL. I. N
 
 178 THE OLD ADAM. 
 
 about were groups of the pupils, some 
 smoking and talking, some comparing the 
 merits of their respective fox-terriers, and 
 others listening to Gammon's latest yarn, in 
 which respect the red-faced butcher displayed 
 considerable ingenuity. 
 
 Every one of them had a hearty welcome 
 for the couple on horseback. Nellie had 
 made herself greatly beloved by her father's 
 parishioners ; and he, though not so active 
 for their welfare, was so agreeable that he 
 was a universal favourite. They took oflf 
 their hats, or curtsied, with smiling faces, 
 and he went slowly by, SDiiling and bowing 
 his acknowledgments. This ceremonious 
 little parade was nearly an everyday occur- 
 rence. He delighted in it at all times, but 
 expressions of good-will were never more 
 dear to him than now, when he was in some 
 danger of losing them for ever. He stopped 
 to speak to a poor old cripple, who was bent 
 almost double, and could only look up by 
 twisting his head round like a blackbird ; he 
 always made a point of doing something of
 
 GREEK MEETS GREEK. 179 
 
 the sort when a young nobleman happened to 
 be near, thus proving to the world his utter 
 disregard for rank. In fact, the Doctor's 
 motives were often so mingled that it was 
 very difficult to disentangle them. 
 
 There can be no doubt, however, that the 
 pupils had good reason for calling him " a 
 jolly old fellow." For when he arrived 
 opposite the Lark's-Nest, who should come 
 sauntering out biit the steady-going Heavi- 
 sides, smiling sweetly, as at some pleasant 
 recollection, and wiping his mouth with an 
 enormous silk handkerchief. He seemed 
 rather taken aback at being caught in the 
 act, and, not quite knowing what to do, gazed 
 thoughtfully at the sky. But the Doctor 
 merely looked the other way, and, with a 
 humorous twinkle in his keen grey eyes, 
 rode on. 
 
 " A regular old brick, I'm hanged if he 
 ain't," declared Heavisides afterwards. " I'd 
 do anything for that man. To think of 
 
 me " But here he rumbled off into that 
 
 alarming laughter of his.
 
 180 THE OLD ADAM. 
 
 It was nearly two hours later when the 
 Doctor and Nellie came cantering back. 
 Their coachman happened to be standing on 
 the bridge ; so the Doctor, having some busi- 
 ness to transact, alighted and sent his cob 
 home with Nellie. He set to work with 
 characteristic haste, rushing from house to 
 house as if every second were worth a mint 
 of money, and, in order to heighten this 
 impression upon the minds of others, seldom 
 putting more than his head inside a door. 
 The attitude was intended to say : '' You see 
 whjat a busy man I am ; I positively can't 
 give you more than a moment or so.'^ This 
 made the colloquially inclined compress what 
 they had to say into the smallest possible 
 compass, while it enabled the Doctor to 
 " make tracks " if their words should be at 
 all objectionable. 
 
 It was about this time that Mr. Valentine 
 Gaunt, with the grinning monkey in his 
 mouth, left the Hive, in order to try his 
 newly-acquired weapon upon the Doctor. 
 He strolled along in a leisurely way, stopping
 
 GREEK MEETS GEEEK. 181 
 
 to cliat witli first one person and then another, 
 for he also knew that power is most service- 
 able when accompanied by popularity. 
 
 On one side of the bridge stood a small 
 shop belonging to a certain Whittle, a big, 
 podgy, smooth-faced, smooth-spoken man, 
 who sold tobacco and many other things, and 
 also acted as carrier to Stilbury. As Mr. 
 Valentine Gaunt approached this shop, he 
 observed a couple of loog black articles pro- 
 truding through the doorway. On close in- 
 spection, they turned out to be the Doctor's 
 Wellington boots. His legs were inside them, 
 and he himself was leaning forward, support- 
 ing himself by holding the lintel. 
 
 Mr. Yalentine Gaunt folded his arms and 
 smiled. 
 
 " Have you given up your prejudice against 
 nicotine, and taken to smoking ? " he asked, 
 alluding to Whittle's occupation. 
 
 The Doctor hastily emerged from the shop, 
 and turned towards the speaker. 
 
 " No, Mr. Gaunt, and I never will," he 
 replied ; adding lightly as he pointed to the
 
 182 THE OLD ADAM. 
 
 pipe, " Is that off the family tree ? or did 
 you sit for it ? " 
 
 " Caught him, but can't give his pedigree." 
 
 " He looks unhappy, at any rate," said the 
 Doctor, who seemed anxious to keep the 
 conversation at this level. 
 
 While speaking, he moved slightly away 
 from the door, and thus brought into view 
 the interior of the shop. Piled upon the 
 floor were a number of parcels, the one on 
 the top being so placed that the address could 
 be read at a glance by the passer-by. It was 
 directed to Arnold Copingstone, Esq., Christ- 
 church, Oxford. 
 
 The Doctor stole a sly glance at his com- 
 panion in order to ascertain how his stratagem 
 had succeeded, and was dismayed to find him 
 grinning as horribly as his monkey. It gave 
 him such a shock that he involuntarily laid 
 his hand upon his side, as if he was suffering 
 from a spasm. But when he looked again, 
 Mr. Yalentine Gaunt was as grave as a 
 judge, though still gazing steadily at the 
 parcel. After all, it must have been a mis- 
 take — a very painful one without doubt.
 
 GEEEK MEETS GREEK. 183 
 
 " I see," remarked Mr. Yalentine Gaunt 
 carelessly, " that you are sending something 
 to Arnold. How is he getting on at 
 Oxford ? " 
 
 "Capitally — capitally," replied the Doctor, 
 purposely loud enough for Whittle to hear. 
 '' Indeed, I am not at all sure that he will 
 return home this vacation. You see, there 
 are some fellows who don't work very well 
 in Puddleton, and Arnold is one of them." 
 
 " If you were to try my method with 
 him " 
 
 " No use ; not a bit of use, I assure you. 
 It's far better to keep the boy away from 
 here for a while." 
 
 " Of course, you know best," said Mr. 
 Yalentine Gaunt modestly. He was making 
 stealthy little dabs with his cudgel at a 
 pebble as he went on : "I hope the goods in 
 your parcel are not perishable. There are so 
 many delays on the railway, and the delivery 
 is so uncertain, that they might be spoilt 
 before Arnold gets them." 
 
 " No," replied the Doctor, who was now
 
 184 THE OLD ADAM. 
 
 completely reassured — he was rather in the 
 habit of over-estimating his own cunning 
 and under-estimating another's — " No, there 
 is nothing to harm there ; merely a few shirts 
 that Huckaback has made from Arnold's old 
 measurement. Things of that sort are so 
 absurdly expensive at the University." 
 
 This announcement was too much for Mr. 
 Yalentine Gaunt's gravity, but, by suddenly 
 averting his face, he still contrived to hide 
 his secret. Some little time elapsed before 
 he said, pointing his cudgel at the Rectory — 
 
 '' Are you going that way ? " 
 
 "^' At once," replied the Doctor, and started 
 at his sharpest pace. 
 
 Mr. Yalentine Gaunt toiled on alongside.
 
 ( 185 ) 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 VICTOR AND VANQUISHED. 
 
 Perhaps nothing could better show what a 
 singular character the Doctor was, than the 
 fact that he felt a positive delight in giving 
 his companion the greatest trouble to keep 
 up with him. It gave him a certain sense 
 of power, and thus helped in some measure 
 to counter-balance what he had lost. He 
 always walked at a very rapid pace, with his 
 arms bent and swinging, and his long legs 
 extended like a glove-stretcher, but now he 
 outdid himself completely. By the side of 
 this tall, wiry figure, the somewhat unwieldy 
 Mr. Valentine Gaunt, who was accustomed 
 to do everything with the utmost delibera- 
 tion, was very soon in difficulties, pound-
 
 186 THE OLD ADAM. 
 
 ing along the street like a staggering cart- 
 horse. 
 
 Pupils and rustics stood and grinned as 
 
 the couple went racing by, and the laugh 
 was certainly against Mr. Valentine Gaunt. 
 Plantagenet offered to lay long odds that the 
 Doctor was first at the Rectory gate by a 
 clear dozen yards, but Silverspoon shook his 
 head, adding that he would not come so well 
 out of a longer race. " See ! " he said, " he 
 can't shake him off even at this distance. 
 Gaunt sticks to him like a leech." 
 
 Exhilarated by his brisk spin, the Doctor 
 paused with one hand on his gate and turned 
 to say something playful. This was Mr. 
 Valentine Gaunt's opportunity, though he 
 was very red in the face, especially about the 
 cheekbones, and very much out of breath. 
 He said abruptly, in tones that conveyed a 
 far deeper meaning than his words — 
 
 " I'll give you half a crown for those 
 shirts." 
 
 The poor old Doctor clapped his hand to 
 his side — he suffered from heart disease — and
 
 VICTOE AND VANQUISHED. 187 
 
 his hold tightened convulsively upon the 
 gate. He stared in a bewildered way, but 
 said not a word. The blow was so sudden 
 that all his cunning had deserted him. 
 
 " Come, Dr. Copingstone ! " this human 
 fiend proceeded, testing each cord before he 
 bound it around his wretched victim. " They 
 would about fit me, and they are worthless 
 to you, you know." 
 
 Still not a word. 
 
 *' Half a crown may not be a very high 
 price, but it is better than nothing. Shall 
 we shake hands on the bargain ?" 
 
 The Doctor instinctively drew back a little. 
 
 The grey hair, the careworn face, the stony 
 misery in the eyes that so often brightened 
 with laughter, and the rigid lips would surely 
 have moved a heart of stone. But Mr. 
 Valentine Gaunt had no pity. He went on 
 in the same bantering tones — 
 
 " You must, I should think, be glad to get 
 any price for what is quite valueless to you. 
 You see, I have learnt to read you like a 
 book."
 
 "188 THE OLD ADAM. 
 
 " You lie, sir," burst out the Doctor, stung 
 where he was most vulnerable. " You have 
 seen Arnold." His rigidity had vanished 
 and he was trembling in every limb. 
 
 Mr. Yalentine Gaunt could afford to smile, 
 and a very odious smile it was. " You have 
 made two statements," he said, slowly rasping 
 out the words, " equally devoid of foundation. 
 Neither is very complimentary to me, but I 
 can see that you are not quite yourself, so let 
 us forget what has just passed. Your sight 
 is keen, I grant, but surely it is a mistake to 
 suppose that others are totally blind. I am 
 no"t, at any rate, as you would have seen for 
 yourself had you not been intent upon your 
 own plans. None are so easily deceived as 
 those who are trying to deceive others, and 
 in this case you have thrown the dust in your 
 own eyes. I could scarcely tell you point- 
 blank that I felt sure Arnold was not at 
 Oxford. You see, it is rather an awkward 
 thing to accuse a clergyman of deception. 
 But in every other way than by speech 
 I have endeavoured to show you what
 
 VICTOR AND VANQUISHED. 189 
 
 I thought. To-day, the sight of that parcel 
 made me speak out, and your own words 
 have proved that I was right." He paused, 
 and then added with a grin : " Am I to have 
 the shirts. Dr. Copingstone ? " 
 
 " No, sir. I would sooner see them rotting 
 in the street." 
 
 There was very little more said between 
 them. Mr. Valentine Gaunt was never in 
 a hurry. He liked to press one point home 
 at a time. By proceeding in this methodical 
 way, he felt pretty confident of attaining his 
 end eventually. As he sauntered back to 
 the- Hive, it was noticed that he was un- 
 usually affable. 
 
 The Doctor leaned over the gate, watching 
 him until he was out of sight. Then, having 
 already made up his mind what to do, he did 
 it, as usual, at once. He walked rapidly 
 down the village towards Whittle's shop. On 
 the way he stopped and chatted pleasantly 
 with Plantagenet and Silverspoon ; he listened 
 patiently to a miserable tale which Joseph 
 Haply poured into his ears ; and, overtaking
 
 190 THE OLD ADAM. 
 
 a couple of fair-haired mites, he walked 
 between them, with a hand on each little 
 head, all the while talking to them in a way 
 that very few men can talk to children. No 
 one could have told from the Doctor's face or 
 voice that a dreadful shadow had just been 
 flung across his life; he had recovered his 
 composure with a readiness that could come 
 only from constant practice. 
 
 "With a parting pat on the head to the two 
 children, he entered the shop, completely this 
 time, for he had no wish to court observation. 
 
 " Whittle," he said, " I suppose I can trust 
 you?" 
 
 "You have tried me often enough. Dr. 
 Copingstone. Have I ever failed you ? " 
 
 " Never, Whittle, never ! You are one of 
 the steadiest men in the parish, though " — 
 here the little grey eyes began to twinkle — 
 " I should like you none the less if you were 
 sometimes to stray into church." 
 
 " Well, sir," began Whittle with an 
 awkward laugh. 
 
 " Oh, there, there ! " said the Doctor,
 
 VICTOR AND VANQUISHED. 191 
 
 waving his hand to cut short what threatened 
 to be a lengthy explanation. " You will be 
 a more regular attendant in future, I have no 
 doubt ; we must blame that big family of 
 yours for your absence." 
 
 " Why, yes, sir, that's it," replied Whittle. 
 He had about sixteen children, but most of 
 them were so much alike that it was difficult 
 to count them. 
 
 ** And now I want you to do me a good 
 turn, if you will. Mr. Graunt will be going 
 up to London in the course of a few days. 
 What I want you to do is this : follow him, 
 note everything he does and every place he 
 goes to, and take care that you are not seen. 
 All expenses paid. Whittle, and a handsome 
 sum in addition. Will you do it ? " 
 
 Whittle fondled his podgy chin and winked. 
 '^ I'm on," he said. 
 
 There was a smile sliding about his smooth 
 face which the Doctor did not altogether like. 
 He watched him suspiciously for a moment 
 or two, then said, " Very well," and without 
 another word darted off.
 
 192 THE OLD ADAM. 
 
 Although it is slightly anticipating events, 
 the sequel of this conversation may be stated 
 liere. For that matter, it can easily be 
 guessed. Whittle, who had some business of 
 his own to transact in London, was very glad 
 to have his expenses paid. He met Mr. 
 Valentine Gaunt at the station and fully 
 explained the nature of his mission, for which 
 explanation he was handsomely rewarded. On 
 his return to Puddleton he told the Doctor 
 some cock-and-bull story and was handsomely 
 rewarded again. After this, Mr. Yalentine 
 Gaunt never went to London without taking 
 careful precautions against being followed. 
 The Doctor thus lost his only chance of 
 finding Arnold, and was in time forced to 
 believe that his whereabouts was unknown to 
 anybody in the village. In using a wretched 
 tool like Whittle, he was only consistent ; but 
 it was strange that he had not learnt the folly 
 — to give it no stronger name — of such a 
 proceeding long ago. In the present case, 
 Mr. Yalentine Gaunt, for obvious reasons, 
 kept his own secret.
 
 VICTOR AND VANQUISHED. 193 
 
 He was in liigb feather after his interview 
 with the Doctor. The dinner at the Hive 
 that evening was a regular jollification, 
 champagne being produced without stint. 
 Silverspoon, who sat at the bottom of the 
 table, proposed the Professor's health in a 
 neat little speech, and it was drunk with 
 musical honours. The Professor replied in 
 suitable terms, although not without several 
 references to his method, which he always 
 dragged in by the head and shoulders when- 
 ever he got an opening. Cigars were handed 
 round afterwards. It was at this stage that 
 Heavisides, his broad face, of course, wearing 
 a placid smile, was seen to be hovering about 
 behind their host's chair, gazing intently at 
 his head of grey hair, which was brushed 
 across to hide the bare patches as much as 
 possible. It subsequently turned out that he 
 had been pursuing his research anent the 
 wig, his conclusion being that the Professor 
 was not as bald as a coot, but wore his own 
 hair. 
 
 When the entertainment terminated, which 
 
 VOL. I.
 
 194 THE OLD ADAM. 
 
 it did with singing, the pupils retired to their 
 own sitting-room, and began to wonder what 
 it was all about, for they knew that cigars 
 and champagne meant something. The 
 general opinion was that " Gaunt had had a 
 rise in screw," and he certainly looked happy 
 enough for that. 
 
 But next morning his peace of mind was 
 sorely disturbed by the following letter from 
 the educational agents who had recommended 
 him : — 
 
 '- Dear Sir, 
 
 '' We have just been honoured by 
 a visit from a solemn sallow-complexioned 
 parson, with a long face, long brown beard, 
 and a very deep voice. His object in 
 calling upon us may surprise you ; it cer- 
 tainly surprised us, and we have thought 
 it our duty to acquaint you with it at 
 once. It was to inquire into your character 
 and antecedents ; but with such informa- 
 tion as we gave him we fear he will scarcely 
 be satisfied. Perhaps our brief descrip-
 
 VICTOR AND VANQUISHED. 195 
 
 tion will enable you to identify ttie gentle- 
 man. 
 
 *' We are, dear sir, 
 
 " Yours faithfully, 
 
 "Kite and Co." 
 
 Furious as Mr. Valentine G-aunt was at 
 reading this letter, he gave himself plenty of 
 time to think out his plans. The morning 
 work went on as usual. He pulled so 
 vigorously at his big meerschaum that Merri- 
 dale ventured to suggest he was burning it ; 
 and he was rather inclined to be short- 
 tempered when interrupted. But this was 
 the only change noticed by his classes, and 
 they ascribed it to the lingering influence of 
 champagne. 
 
 It was not until after lunch that he marched 
 up to the Rectory. He found the Doctor 
 sitting at the writing-table in his study, 
 showed him the letter, and demanded that 
 Sterne should be summoned to explain it. 
 The Doctor was both surprised and distressed. 
 He was beginning to see that if his plan of
 
 196 THE OLD ADAM. 
 
 playing one tutor against the other had its 
 advantages, it also had its disadvantages. 
 Still, it was a relief to find that this was not 
 a charge against himself ; his own responsi- 
 bilities were quite enough for the present. 
 He lost not a moment in sending Higgins 
 with a message to the Hut. 
 
 When Leonard Sterne arrived, the letter 
 was handed to him in silence, and he read it 
 without comment, the other two watching 
 him intently. He and his rival stood facing- 
 one another on opposite sides of the table, 
 the Doctor sitting between. 
 
 " I am afraid," said Sterne, smiling as he 
 laid down the letter, and resting his knuckles 
 on the table, " that I should not have recog- 
 nized myself from Kite and Co.'s portrait ; 
 but I did go to see them at the time and for 
 the purpose they mention." 
 
 '' Then," said Mr. Yalentine Gaunt, scowl- 
 ing, " may I inquire, Mr. Sterne, what my 
 character and antecedents have to do with 
 
 you? 
 
 The Doctor has entrusted me with the
 
 VICTOR AND VANQUISHED. 197 
 
 selection of most of his tutors. It was he that 
 finally selected you, I admit, but the letters 
 you received were from me, as you know." 
 
 " Well ? " 
 
 " I feel that a certain responsibility rests 
 upon my shoulders." 
 
 " Well ? " 
 
 " I have nothing to add, Mr. Gaunt," 
 replied Sterne quietly. 
 
 " Oh, indeed ! " said Mr. Valentine Gaunt. 
 " I suppose I have a right to learn your 
 motive ? " 
 
 " For the present, I prefer to withhold it." 
 
 " The reason is obvious." 
 
 " Perhaps so." 
 
 " It is not more flattering to your character 
 than are the acts which it prompted." 
 
 " Perhaps so," again said Sterne, determined 
 not to lose his temper as he had done once 
 before. 
 
 Mr. Valentine Gaunt suddenly turned 
 towards the Doctor, and, at the same moment, 
 converted his arms into a pair of compasses, 
 one index pointing to each of his companions.
 
 198 THE OLD ADAM. 
 
 " Doctor Copingstone," lie said passionately, 
 ''what have I done that I am tracked like 
 some wild beast ? Am I suspected of being 
 a criminal, taking refuge amid the piety of 
 Puddleton, and anxious only to corrupt it ? 
 What are my antecedents to you or to any- 
 body else ? You saw my testimonials ; you 
 were pleased to speak of them in highly 
 complimentary terms ; you selected me to 
 assist you in the work here from them, and 
 from them alone. I won't quote them, lest 
 I should appear to boast ; but I may say that 
 few men ever gain such praise, and fewer 
 still deserve it. I don't deserve it, I candidly 
 admit ; my past life has not been altogether 
 spotless. Has yours, Doctor Copingstone ? 
 You shake your head. Has yours, Mr. 
 Sterne ? Ah well ! perhaps it has ; you have 
 the crow over the Doctor there. Oh, pray, 
 don't deny it ; surely you are not ashamed 
 of your immaculate purity ? Yet it is this 
 unblemished clergyman who has made it his 
 Christian duty to pry into my past life, and 
 to drag to light my defects. Does he carry
 
 VICTOK AND VANQUISHED. 199 
 
 your warrant, Doctor Copingstone ? If not, 
 where you are satisfied — and you have ex- 
 pressed your complete satisfaction over and 
 over again — why should he interfere ? Let 
 me tell him that he is the one element of 
 discord in this place, which would be happy 
 and peaceful but for his presence ; and let me 
 warn you that, if you permit such acts of 
 malice among your tutors, your pupils will 
 not be long in leaving a divided house which 
 every moment threatens to tumble about their 
 ears." 
 
 When he finished speaking, he folded his 
 arms and smiled contemptuously. It was like 
 the sun coming out after a thunderstorm. 
 Two days ago he would not have ventured to 
 make a speech which rendered it almost im- 
 possible for both himself and Sterne to remain 
 in the village ; but he felt more secure of his 
 position now. 
 
 The Doctor was bending low over the 
 table, his hand playing uneasily with a pen. 
 He cleared his throat as if about to speak, 
 but hesitated, and finally cast a look of
 
 200 THE OLD ADAM. 
 
 entreaty at Sterne, who answered his appeal 
 at once. 
 
 " I confess," he said, " that my action was 
 peculiar, but the circumstances were peculiar. 
 I am perfectly ready to justify my conduct to 
 you, Doctor Copingstone, but to no one else." 
 
 This was awkward for Mr. Valentine 
 Gaunt, who knew that Sterne was not to be 
 moved from a position that he had once taken 
 up. He was very anxious to learn what 
 Sterne had discovered or suspected ; and yet 
 there was no way of doing so, except by 
 leaving the field in the possession of the 
 enemy, which might result in unforeseen 
 danger. It will be observed that this man of 
 method found himself in difiSculties when he 
 had to encounter the unexpected. Eventually, 
 however, he retired from the room. 
 
 " I leave my character in your keeping. 
 Doctor Copingstone," he said, with the air of 
 one conferring a favour, and then closed the 
 door.
 
 ( 201 ) 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 AJS" ALLIANCE. 
 
 A SHORT silence followed Mr. Yalentine 
 Gaunt's departure, the Doctor sitting with 
 his head resting in his hands. Leonard 
 Sterne was the first to speak. His expression 
 and tones were full of sadness, but there was 
 a quiet resolution in the way in which he 
 drew himself erect. 
 
 " After what has just happened," he said, 
 and the Doctor gave a little start, ''it is my 
 duty not to lose a moment in placing my 
 resignation in your hands. After a happy 
 association of many years it is no easy matter 
 for me to leave you and all my friends here, 
 but I should be wrong to remain where I am 
 accused of being, and by you tacitly admitted
 
 202 THE OLD ADAM. 
 
 to be, a source of discord and weakness. You 
 have been very kind to Lucy and myself " 
 
 ^* Sterne — Sterne, forgive me," implored 
 the Doctor, looking up and laying his hand 
 upon Sterne's. " If you knew all, you v^ould, 
 my friend — but I can't tell you just yet. 
 Bear with me a little longer, for Nellie's 
 sake, if not for mine. I am a weak, lonely, 
 
 unhappy old man ; if you also leave me " 
 
 But at the thought of the future and his 
 ruined ambition he broke down entirely. 
 
 Sterne was deeply affected. It was the 
 first time that he had ever seen tears in those 
 keen grey eyes, and the sight brought tears 
 to his own. He warmly clasped the Doctor's 
 hand, and though he did so in silence and 
 with averted face, the action was far more 
 eloquent than words would have been. 
 Henceforth, these two were bound together 
 by a stronger tie than they had ever been 
 before. 
 
 While under the influence of his feelings, 
 the Doctor had a powerful impulse to confide 
 his trouble about Arnold to Sterne ; but, as
 
 AN ALLIANCE. 203 
 
 usual, he hesitated, partly through his rooted 
 distrust of others, and partly through fear of 
 what this conscientious man would say of his 
 share in the transaction. He felt the need of 
 sympathy almost as much as of assistance, 
 and yet, shrinking from the consequences of 
 his act, let the opportunity slip. 
 
 Nor did he make any reference to Sterne's 
 object in visiting the educational agents. It 
 was easily guessed, and he considered it 
 prudent not to ask any questions. He could 
 then plead ignorance when Mr. Valentine 
 Gaunt returned to the charge. 
 
 ^' I suppose," said Sterne presently, " you 
 have not got Mr. Gaunt's testimonials ? " 
 
 ''No, I returned them to him." 
 
 " Or copies ? " 
 
 " No, he showed me the originals." 
 
 " Do you think you could get hold of them 
 and let me see them ? " 
 
 " Impossible, Sterne ; quite impossible." 
 
 " Then," said Sterne, clutching at the last 
 straw, " do you remember the names and ad- 
 dresses of those who gave them to Mr. Gaunt? "
 
 204 THE OLD ADAM. 
 
 Throughout this catechism, the Doctor had 
 displayed much uneasiness ; he now resorted 
 to his ordinary device for getting rid of a 
 troublesome person. He seized his pen and 
 began to write vigorously. 
 
 " If," he said, " I tried to remember all the 
 names I see, I should have enough to do. 
 Sterne, what a shocking time Lord Mayfair 
 is in settling bis account. Do you think 
 there is anything wrong there ? " 
 
 Sterne felt rather dissatisfied as he walked 
 back to the Hut. Why would the Doctor 
 persist in throwing obstacles in his way ? 
 Were they always to go on playing at cross- 
 purposes ? There seemed no object in this 
 lamentable want of candour. The more he 
 reflected the more he was convinced that in 
 Mr. Valentine Gaunt's testimonials lay the 
 key to his influence over the Doctor, for it 
 dated from the very hour in which they were 
 shown by the one to the other, and had been 
 growing ever since. 
 
 If Sterne was right in his conclusion, the 
 complete solution of the mystery was to be
 
 AN ALLIANCE. 205 
 
 found in No. 13, Momus Street, for not only 
 was Arnold tbere^ but also M. Dubarri, alias 
 M. Dubois, from whom both these documents 
 emanated. 
 
 Sterne's faith in his friend was very re- 
 markable when contrasted with the latter's 
 distrust for him. It was, he felt confident, 
 merely some youthful prank that Mr. Valen- 
 tine Gaunt had got hold of and, by means of 
 exaggeration and distortion, had made the 
 terror of the Doctor's life. This is very easy 
 to do with those who are wedded to a single 
 ambition ; indeed, they usually do it for 
 themselves, supposing every accident to be 
 part of a malicious design against their 
 happiness, raising up all sorts of horrors, and 
 not infrequently developing into downright 
 monomaniacs. Sterne felt that something 
 of the kind was being set in action by Mr. 
 Valentine Gaunt against the Doctor ; yet, 
 eager as he was to frustrate it, he was bound 
 hand and foot b}^ the very man he wished to 
 assist. 
 
 " How does Jupiter look this afternoon ? "
 
 206 THE OLD ADAM. 
 
 asked Philip Strathclyde, breaking in upon 
 his meditations. " Smiles or frowns ? " 
 
 The two were standing opposite the Hut. 
 
 " The omens are not very propitious, 
 Philip, if you are about to learn your fate." 
 
 " Yes, I have delayed long enough ; but I 
 have had to engage my aunt and all sorts of 
 things." 
 
 " And what does she say ? " 
 
 " Oh, she is exceedingly angry. Dear me, 
 she almost frightened me, saying that I 
 should lose the estate, and be little better 
 than a pauper. But I think she will come 
 round in time." 
 
 " Well, I hope so, my boy," said Sterne 
 kindly. " We must really try and avoid all 
 unpleasantness. Do you know, the Doctor is 
 going out for a ride very shortly ? " 
 
 " Then I must run," replied Philip. 
 
 Sterne stood looking after the manly young 
 fellow swinging along towards the Rectory. 
 He had seen a happy confidence in the hand- 
 some smiling face, and the lightness with 
 which difficulties were brushed aside ; he saw
 
 AN ALLIANCE. 207 
 
 it still in the easy resolute stride ; yet his 
 own mind was full of doubts, and he fell to 
 wondering how it would all end. It struck 
 him as a singular thing that, while he and 
 the Doctor had entered into an alliance 
 against Mr. Valentine Gaunt, he and Philip 
 had entered into an alliance against the 
 Doctor — at least, if Nellie's affections should 
 be tampered with. Doubtless many would 
 have held aloof from what was directly no 
 business of theirs, but Leonard Sterne took a 
 more comprehensive view of his duty towards 
 his neighbour. 
 
 When Philip was shown into the study, the 
 Doctor looked at him with swift suspicion, 
 which brought the colour into the lad's face. 
 His purpose was now plain. The Doctor 
 resolved to ignore it. 
 
 " Well, Philip, what can I do for you ? " he 
 asked, with a pleasant smile. 
 
 He never spoke without making one feel 
 that he did so, not as a mere act of duty or 
 from idle curiosity, but from genuine interest. 
 Nellie had the same sympathetic voice and
 
 208 THE OLD x\DAM. 
 
 expression as her father, though it was 
 entirely absent in Arnold. It was largely to 
 this cause that the Doctor owed his success as 
 a tutor as well as his influence over nearly 
 everybody with whom he came in contact. 
 Philip, who had come prepared for a fight, 
 was softened at once. 
 
 " I hope," the Doctor continued, " your 
 work is getting on satisfactorily. We must 
 manage somehow to get you past the blockade 
 of those wretched examiners, and we shall, 
 my boy — mark my words, we shall. When 
 it is all over, don't forget my prophesy. You 
 are a capital fellow to work, Philip, a capital 
 fellow; and you deserve to win, which is 
 more than I can say for many of the others. 
 But " — his voice sank to a tone of kindly 
 confidence — '' don't overdo it ; don't spoil 
 your excellent chance by working too late 
 at night ; we must send you fit to the post. 
 Now, Philip, I have been watching you very 
 carefully, and it seems to me that your face 
 is a little_, just a little, paler than it used to 
 be. W^hat do you say to a short holiday ? I
 
 AN ALLIANCE. 209 
 
 think it would do you good, and I could 
 easily persuade your aunt." 
 
 " You are very kind, Dr. Copingstone," 
 said Philip gratefully, yet with increased 
 embarrassment, as he stood by the side of the 
 writing-table ; " but I have come not so 
 much about my work as about my prospects." 
 
 " They are even better than your work," 
 returned the Doctor, with a humorous twinkle 
 in his eyes. It was difficult to believe that 
 this was the man who had looked so utterly 
 crushed but a short half-hour ago. 
 
 " I am glad you think so, Dr. Copingstone. 
 I have, as I dare say you know, two hundred 
 a year of my own ; and the Grovernment 
 appointment, which you say I may regard as 
 a certainty, will bring me in about as much 
 again to commence with." 
 
 " But upon your marriage with your 
 cousin " — he glanced up slyly — " you will 
 come into all your uncle's property. While 
 you remain a bachelor, you will no doubt be 
 able to live upon four hundred a year, but it 
 won't admit of extravagance or even luxury." 
 
 VOL. I. P
 
 210 THE OLD ADAM. 
 
 Philip pulled a very long face. " Then," 
 said he, folding his hands upon his hat, 
 " what do you consider the least a man 
 should marry upon ? " 
 
 " Fifteen hundred," promptly replied the 
 Doctor, who had married as a curate with a 
 salary of a hundred and fifty. He was merely 
 following the example of exhibitors w^ho put 
 fancy prices upon the pets they have no 
 intention of selling. 
 
 Philip wisely withdrew from a competition 
 so unprofitable. He saw that he had made a 
 mistake, and commenced afresh with : " Dr. 
 Copingstone, Nellie and I are exceedingly 
 fond of one another ; she is far away too 
 good for me, I know ; but she has promised 
 to marry me, if you will give your consent." 
 
 *' That you can never have, Philip," said 
 the Doctor, firmly. 
 
 " But why ? " was all that the startled lad 
 could say. 
 
 " Because I have too much regard for you 
 to allow you to commit an act of disastrous 
 folly."
 
 AN ALLIANCE. 211 
 
 " Disastrous folly to marry Nellie ! " 
 
 " Decidedly. And I should be wrong to 
 let you throw away your chances of comfort 
 and therefore of happiness." 
 
 " But, Dr. Copingstone," stammered Philip, 
 recovering a little, " my comfort is dependent 
 upon my happiness, and not my happiness 
 upon my comfort." 
 
 " So you think, Philip, so you think. 
 When you come to years of discretion, my 
 boy, you will know better." 
 
 Anxious to have the matter fairly settled, 
 the Doctor had spoken and listened with 
 unusual patience, but while he found a 
 difficulty in concentrating his thoughts, this 
 incautious speech was the only sign of his 
 having been recently worried. It nettled 
 Philip, who, like most young fellows, was 
 peculiarly touchy on the subject of his age. 
 His fair young face was crimson as he 
 exclaimed — 
 
 " If you'll only let me. Dr. Copingstone, I 
 am quite ready to stake my future happiness 
 upon my present opinion."
 
 212 THE OLD ADAM. 
 
 " But there is Nellie to be considered," said 
 the Doctor, a little wearily, but still as kindly 
 as ever. " Eemember, she has been accus- 
 tomed to every comfort, and even if she were 
 willing to forego them for your sake, do you 
 think it would be right to force such self- 
 denial upon her ? I know you are too 
 generous for that, Philip. Besides, she is 
 but a child ; she can't know her own mind 
 yet. Suppose either of you should change 
 your minds after marriage, when trouble had 
 taught you its bitter lesson, what lifelong 
 misery would lie before you both ! " 
 
 " But, dear me ! surely you know your 
 own daughter better than that. Dr. Coping- 
 stone ? She has never changed towards you, 
 her father ; why should she change towards 
 me, her husband ? I know she never would 
 — never, as long as love is love, and not 
 selfishness ; and I feel I have a right to say 
 so, for I love her dearly. Oh, but this is a 
 very dreadful charge to bring against me, 
 too. Why, I should be the last to do her 
 harm, and yet "
 
 AN ALLIANCE. 213 
 
 u ggg^ iny boy," interrupted the Doctor, 
 scarcely keeping back a mischievous smile, 
 " you have upset the ink-bottle." 
 
 Poor Philip looked very crestfallen. He 
 gazed ruefully at the mess he had made, and 
 his powers of speech seemed to have been 
 suddenly dried up. At last he stammered 
 out — 
 
 " I'm dreadfully sorry." 
 " Oh, don't give it another thought. Martha 
 will soon put it to rights. And now run 
 along, Philip, for I haven't got a moment to 
 spare!" 
 
 Philip was so confused that he had actually 
 reached the door before he remembered that 
 he had not brought his business to any 
 definite conclusion. But, with his hand on 
 the knob, he turned and asked — 
 
 " Is there any other objection, Dr. Coping- 
 stone ? " 
 
 " Yes ; your aunt's displeasure," replied the 
 Doctor, not without impatience. 
 " But suppose I can pacify her ? " 
 " Then there is your cousin."
 
 214 THE OLD ADAM. 
 
 " Upon that point Mildred and I are 
 thoroughly agreed. We shall always be like 
 brother and sister, but we should never 
 marry. Surely, Dr. Copiugstone, there is 
 something else ? " 
 
 " Yes, there is. Your marriage with Nellie 
 would ruin me." 
 
 This reason bore the same relation to the 
 others that a woman's postcript does to her 
 letter. 
 
 " I really can't see how," said the obstinate 
 youth. 
 
 " By driving every pupil out of the place. 
 But look here, Philip, my good nature has 
 submitted to quite enough catechizing for 
 the present. I don't wish to quarrel with 
 you, but if you are not out of the room 
 in one minute, I won't be responsible for 
 what I may say or do. The very idea of 
 your " But his voice and manner sud- 
 denly changed. " There, there," he said 
 wearily, " I have been worried, Philip, and 
 I'm a little bit out of temper in consequence. 
 Go now, my boy, and my best wishes go
 
 AN ALLIANCE. 215 
 
 with you ! I odIj regret that this thing can 
 never be." 
 
 Yery sadly Philip left the room. But he 
 had scarcely closed the door when he was 
 recalled. 
 
 Brief as was the interval that had elapsed, 
 the Doctor had already pulled himself to- 
 gether. The curious thing about him was, 
 that a man with such a powerful will should 
 have so many weak points in his character. 
 Sitting erect in his chair, he now looked the 
 very incarnation of strength, and his glance 
 was as keen as a hawk's. 
 
 " When you give me your word," he said, 
 " I know I can rely upon it. Will you 
 promise me not to hold any communication 
 with Nellie ? " 
 
 '^ No, Dr. Copingstone," replied Philip, 
 frankly ; " I don't think it would be right 
 for me to bind myself down in any 
 way." 
 
 " Well, Philip," said the Doctor, regarding 
 the lad with something very like admiration, 
 "• that is straightforward, at any rate. I don't
 
 216 THE OLD ADAM. 
 
 mind a fair fight in the open, but I can't bear 
 underhand tricks." He really meant it, for 
 he was referring to others. " Now I shall 
 know how to meet you." 
 
 In order to guard against accidents, he 
 concocted several little stratagems, the chief of 
 which was very characteristic. It was not, 
 however, until some weeks after the vacation 
 that he put it into practice, his feeling of in- 
 security having by that time reached a pitch 
 that rendered it necessary for him to do some- 
 thing final. 
 
 What he did was to interview Mr. Smirke, 
 proprietor of the Lark's-Nest, and also of the 
 adjoining livery-stable, the only one in Pud- 
 dleton. The interview took place in the bar. 
 Mr. Smirke, a ruddy-haired man with a slight 
 squint, was leaning across the counter, while 
 the Doctor stood by the door, holding it ajar, 
 in order partly that he might get out, if 
 necessary, and partly to warn pupils against 
 coming in. 
 
 " Mr. Smirke," he began in his pleasantest 
 way, " you remember how strongly I backed
 
 AN ALLIANCE. 217 
 
 you up when Whittle wanted to start traps 
 and horses in opposition to yours. Tested 
 interests, I said, vested interests must not be 
 disturbed. I did you a good turn then. 
 You'll recollect that ? " 
 
 " Yes," assented Mr. Smirke, squinting 
 doubtfully. 
 
 It had been rumoured that that pluralist, 
 Whittle, had been prompted to add another 
 to his many vocations by the Doctor himself, 
 who had then declared himself in favour of 
 open competition. It was this that puzzled 
 Mr. .Smirke. 
 
 " Very well," the Doctor went on ; '^ as I 
 have befriended you in the past, so shall I 
 always — when I find you carrying out my 
 instructions and not acting prejudicially to 
 my interests. Of course, Mr. Smirke, I could 
 get traps and horses from Stilbury when they 
 were required, or it would be ensy enough 
 for me to set up a livery-stable of my own ; 
 but I have no wish to do that — none whatever. 
 Eemember, however, I look for implicit 
 obedience from you in reference to your
 
 218 THE OLD ADAM. 
 
 dealings with my pupils ; all their bills must 
 be sent in to me at the moment." 
 
 " They always are, Dr. Copingstone," said 
 Mr. Smirke, who looked both mystified and 
 frightened. 
 
 It will be noticed that the Doctor had a 
 different style of treatment for everybody, 
 and each style was well suited to the person 
 to whom it was applied. He laughed good- 
 humouredly at Heavisides, talked confiden- 
 tially to Philip, flattered Whittle, terrorized 
 over Mr. Smirke, and so on. An excellent 
 judge of character, he formed his opinion and 
 plans at once, and it was seldom that he went 
 wrong here. 
 
 " Yes, yes," he said impatiently ; ''I know 
 I can trust you. It is to your interest that 
 we should work together. I have no in- 
 tention of interfering with your custom if it 
 can possibly be avoided ; but, in future, you 
 are not to let any pupil have a horse or trap 
 without showing a written order from me or 
 Mr. Sterne. These orders are to be sent to 
 the Rectory within half an hour of their
 
 AN ALLIANCE. 219 
 
 having been given to you. Do you under- 
 stand me, Mr. Smirke ? " 
 
 " Yes, sir." 
 
 *' Then take care that your men do so, 
 too ! "
 
 220 THE OLD ADAM. 
 
 CHAPTER XIY. 
 
 CRAMS AND CRAMMERS. 
 
 When the pupils returned from their Christ- 
 mas vacation, they were accompanied by a 
 large reinforcement, and recruits were con- 
 tinually dropping in during the earlier part 
 of the spring. Indeed, it was difficult to 
 accommodate them all in the village. They 
 clustered most thickly around the Hive, from 
 which it may be inferred that the veterans 
 had spread Mr. Valentine Gaunt's reputation 
 among their friends at Eton, Harrow, and 
 the other public schools. 
 
 Nevertheless, it had become absolutely 
 necessary to fill the Hut ; but those who were 
 sent there, either were unfortunates who had 
 led solitary lives at school, or else were too
 
 CRAMS AND CIIAMMEES. 221 
 
 young to have any wills of tlieir own. Still, 
 Leonard Sterne had been victimized so long 
 as to have grown accustomed to it, and for 
 the Doctor's sake, he endured his troubles 
 without a murmur. It was a hard task to 
 efface himself lest he should stand in the way 
 of his rival's advancement, but he did it with 
 a certain resolute austerity, as if he prided 
 himself upon drinking his penitential cup to 
 the very dregs. 
 
 No doubt he flattered himself that he had 
 had some small share in the Doctor's success, 
 but the whole credit was claimed by Mr. 
 Valentine Gaunt for himself and his method. 
 He now wore a lofty air of importance, and 
 was considerably stouter. His cheek-bones 
 were less obtrusive, his gold chain more con- 
 spicuous, and his clothes were made by a 
 fashionable tailor. In fact, though he still 
 hovered about with the big meerschaum in 
 his mouth, and in the morning with slippers 
 on his feet, he presented the appearance of 
 arnan in very comfortable circumstances. 
 
 The only change in his attitude towards
 
 222 THE OLD ADAM. 
 
 the Doctor was that he had become more 
 familiar, but it was a friendly and almost 
 patronising familiarity. In public, however, 
 he behaved with seemly deference, thereby 
 enabling the Doctor to make a show of the 
 authority which had almost completely slipped 
 from him. It was a miserable state of affairs 
 altogether, and not less so because this fiend 
 of a man advanced with such cautious slow- 
 ness. He often invited himself to dinner at 
 the Rectory, and did his utmost to make 
 himself agreeable to Nellie, but here he met 
 with very indifferent success. However, he 
 persevered. 
 
 The Doctor's income at this time must have 
 been simply enormous, for besides the in- 
 crease in the number of his pupils, he had 
 thought it a good opportunity to raise his 
 terms. Instead of checking applications, this 
 had tended to add to them. He was never 
 tired of saying how he had been obliged to 
 decline the sons of Lord This and Lady That. 
 He had started a book in which a score of 
 names were already entered three years in
 
 CRAMS AND CRAMMERS. 223 
 
 advance ; and lie had engaged, among several 
 new tutors, one of noble family, who was 
 consequently a most efficient " coach," and a 
 great attraction. In short, he did everything 
 on a lordly scale, except as regards the pay- 
 ment of his tutors, for their salaries he good- 
 humouredly screwed down to the lowest level. 
 
 When people saw this modern Tower of 
 Babel rising to a gigantic height, they agreed 
 that its master-builder must be a happy man. 
 Alas ! he was very nearly a broken-hearted 
 man. Was he not building for the stranger 
 to inherit ? He had worked for a fame that 
 should endure, yet by the loss of his son it 
 was limited to the few years that remained 
 to him. When he was gone, it would pass 
 to another, and he himself would be forgotten. 
 
 Mingled with this trouble, there were some 
 yearnings for his missing son. Though he 
 had not shown any great affection for Arnold, 
 he now felt an increasing affection for 
 Arnold's memory, and spared no efforts to 
 find him. He still entertained a desperate 
 hope of cancelling the past — of putting
 
 224 THE OLD ADAM. 
 
 matters to rights, as if that past had never 
 been ; and only this prevented the haggard 
 look which came to his face occasionally from 
 being stamped there indelibly. 
 
 He had found no difficulty in keeping up 
 the delusion about Arnold's being at Oxford. 
 Of course no one dreamed of doubting his 
 explanation, and Whittle had also uncon- 
 sciously helped him by talking about the 
 shirts. Only Leonard Sterne was beginning 
 to wonder. That half-confidence in the 
 study, when the Doctor had spoken of him- 
 self as " 2i lonely old man," had set him 
 thinking ; but everything was so misty that 
 he could not see his way at all. He knew 
 merely that Mr. Valentine Gaunt had ob- 
 tained a strange hold over the Doctor, and 
 concluded that it had some connection with 
 liis testimonials, but he had no idea that it 
 had been assisted by any subsequent event. 
 He was very patient and watchful, ever on 
 the alert to help his friend, and, though the 
 mystery was still as dark as ever, confident 
 of solving it eventually.
 
 CRAMS AND CRAMMERS. 225 
 
 But, fortunate as the Doctor was in his 
 friends, he had not attained his present 
 position without making some enemies, chiefly 
 on account of a fact which may require ex- 
 planation — the depreciation of house property 
 in and near Puddleton. 
 
 The pupils were undoubtedly a noisy lot, 
 not from any wish to cause annoyance, but 
 merely because it is the nature of thoughtless 
 young people to make a noise. For example, 
 they had organized a band which paraded 
 the village when things seemed a trifle dull. 
 Lord Ernest Plantagenet, immensely tall and 
 thin, marched at the head with a large drum ; 
 then came Yiscount Silverspoon with a 
 cornet, Merridale with a fiddle, and many 
 others, mostly with coach-horns, the rear 
 being invariably brought up by the short, 
 broad form of Heavisides, smiling pensively 
 as he strummed some original air on his 
 banjo. Of course this was a rare treat to the 
 rustics, all noise that came from an instru- 
 ment being music to their ears, and they 
 stood open-mouthed at the doors of their 
 
 YOL. I. Q
 
 226 THE OLD ADAM. 
 
 creeper-clad cottages, and grinned with 
 delight. Had these yonng noblemen been 
 disposed to make a collection, honest John 
 Hodge woTild have contributed loyally. 
 
 There were others, however, who looked 
 at the matter in a different light. They said 
 that noise was equally objectionable to them 
 whether it was made by a peer or a coster- 
 monger, and they stoutly declined to live in 
 a turbulent neighbourhood unless they were 
 compensated for loss of quietude by a reduc- 
 tion in their rents. This their landlords 
 would not agree to ; and though the Doctor, 
 anxious to retain the goodwill of his neigh- 
 bours, had paid away a good deal of money 
 in one way or another, he drew the line here. 
 
 The consequence was that several retired 
 officers and elderly merchants who had lived 
 in the village on account of its seclusion and 
 beautiful scenery, had angrily departed ; and 
 their example had been followed by two or 
 three old maids, whose cats had suffered 
 severely from the fox-terriers belonging to 
 the pupils. One lady without a cat lingered
 
 CRAMS AXD CRAMMERS. 227 
 
 after the rest, but at length declaring that 
 the very bricks and mortar had become im- 
 pregnated with tobacco smoke, she also fled 
 in disgust. 
 
 Several of the houses thus vacated were 
 taken by the new tutors and filled with 
 pupils ; others belonged to Gammon, Smirke, 
 Whittle, and Joseph Haply, who received 
 comjDensation in increased custom ; but the 
 remainder were a dead loss to their owners, 
 among whom Hebe's father was the greatest 
 sufferer though not the loudest grumbler. 
 
 Being merely a country practitioner, Mr. 
 Pike was not entrusted with any of the 
 Doctor's legal business, so that he had some 
 cause for complaint. Still, he kept his tongue 
 well under control. There was no knowing 
 how matters might turn out. When Dr. 
 Fogge and others of the same class were in- 
 vited to the annual dinner at the Rectory, 
 Mr. Pike was always to be seen there too, 
 a pompous little man with a bald head, an 
 inquiring nose, an immense moustache, and 
 a collar so stiff that one was almost afraid of
 
 228 THE OLD ADAM. 
 
 speaking to him, lest he should inadvertently 
 turn his head, and some dreadful accident 
 occur. 
 
 He and the Doctor made a great show of 
 friendliness ; they were charmingly polite 
 when they met, each asking after the other's 
 health with the deepest interest and beaming 
 with pleasure at getting a satisfactory answer. 
 They shook hands at parting with a cordiality 
 that would have done credit to M. Dubarri ; 
 and yet one could not help feeling that the 
 thing was a little overdone to be genuine. 
 They reminded one of a couple of skilful 
 fencers, each waiting to give the other a dig 
 in the ribs. And there can be no doubt that, 
 but for the fact of his having intercepted 
 Hebe's letter, the Doctor would have come 
 to believe himself to be the victim of a con- 
 spiracy, and have accused the lawyer of 
 aiding Arnold in order to bring about his 
 jnarriage with Hebe ; but as it was, he felt 
 easy on that account. 
 
 As a matter of fact, however, Mr. Pike 
 had a strong suspicion that his daughter was
 
 CRAMS AND CRAMMERS. 229 
 
 in communication with Arnold, whom he 
 naturally supposed to be at the University. 
 It puzzled him a good deal, for no letters 
 came for her by post ; but he had noticed a 
 greater briskness in her manner ever since 
 that day when she met Mr. Valentine Gaunt 
 returning from London, and at intervals she 
 had shown a cheerfulness which there was 
 no other way of accounting for. If only the 
 Doctor's consent could be obtained, Mr. Pike 
 would gladly have agreed to a marriage so 
 advantageous to himself; and thinking it 
 prudent not to question Hebe, he determined 
 to watch the course of events. Had it not 
 been for this circumstance, he would certainly 
 have made a determined attack upon the 
 Doctor during the spring, for the many new- 
 comers had added so greatly to the disturb- 
 ance that it was almost intolerable. 
 
 However, as May approached, matters 
 quieted down a little. The examinations 
 were drawing unpleasantly near, as might be 
 seen from the positive craving for knowledge 
 that had suddenly seized upon some, the
 
 230 THE OLD ADAM. 
 
 uneasy expression worn by others, and the 
 envious glances cast at those who, like Philip 
 Strathclyde, had worked steadily on until 
 they were considered certain of success. 
 Silverspoon and Plantagenet were putting on 
 a terrific spurt, dashing about the village 
 with piles of books under their arms ; if 
 Merridale's gaiety was still irrepressible 
 in the daytime, he sat up half the night 
 with a wet towel round his forehead ; and 
 even Heavisides had once been observed 
 smiling pleasantly at the exterior of a Latin 
 grammar. 
 
 There came a cold grey morning when the 
 excitement rose to fever-height. A large 
 number of the pupils were gathered on the 
 bridge, some standing, others sitting on the 
 wall, and gazing thoughtfully at the Splash- 
 water, which was dancing merrily down the 
 rugged side of Camelback to turn and twist 
 among the green meadows that came lovingly 
 down to meet it. Some of these young 
 fellows wore a half-critical air ; they even 
 indulged in a little chaff' occasionally ; they
 
 CRAMS AND CRAMMERS. 231 
 
 smiled as they puffed vigorously at their 
 pipes, or shouted as they sent their fox- 
 terriers racing down the street ; in fact, they 
 behaved in the unfeeling way that young 
 fellows do when they are not going in for 
 an examination yet awhile. 
 
 Suddenly there was a profound silence, and 
 all turned in the direction of the Hut, from 
 which the Doctor, in the brigand hat, was 
 just issuing. Followed by Leonard Sterne 
 and Philip, and with a large collection of 
 papers under his arm, he walked along as 
 fast as his long thin legs could carry him. 
 He smiled at those who stood on either hand, 
 but his expression was unusually important, 
 this being one of his oracular days. Some 
 of the pu]Dils began to trot by his side, which 
 always pleased him ; and in order to show 
 what he really could do, he increased Lis 
 pace. They kept pelting him with such 
 questions as : "• Dr. Copingstone, am I to be 
 entered for the May Handicap ? " " Am I to 
 be scratched ? " "I had a capital trial last 
 week, so you will allow me to run, won't
 
 232 THE OLD ADAM. 
 
 you ? " But he only laughed and shook his 
 head knowingly. 
 
 At the Eectory gate another voice was 
 heard — 
 
 " Pour I'amour de Dieu, mon bon monsieur, 
 donnez moi quelques sous afin que je puisse 
 retourner dans mon pays." 
 
 These words were whined out by a shabbily- 
 dressed, unkempt-looking man, holding his 
 cap in one hand, and witli the other extended 
 in an attitude of entreaty. He doubtless 
 belonged to the large class of mendicants who 
 tramp about from school to school, making 
 an excellent livelihood by exciting the com- 
 passion of the foreign masters, their fellow- 
 countrymen. 
 
 At the sight of him, the Doctor started 
 back, and, as he often did under the influence 
 of sudden emotion, pressed his hand to his 
 side. However, his agitation was merely 
 momentary. Though he always listened with 
 a very wise face to reports upon the French 
 work, his knowledge of that language was 
 limited to two words which he used so pro-
 
 CRAMS AND CRAMMERS. 233 
 
 miscuously as to suggest his ignorance of 
 their meaning. He fired them now at the 
 head of this French heggar. 
 
 " Yenez ! " he cried, waving his hand vehe- 
 mently. " Yenez tout-de-suite ! " and dashed 
 into the Rectory garden. 
 
 Naturally enough, the man hegan to shuffle 
 alongside. 
 
 " Yenez tout-de-suite ! " the Doctor shouted 
 to him. 
 
 The man quickened his pace, and whined 
 out something about a thousand thanks. 
 
 The Doctor stopped abruptly, looking 
 annoyed and perhaps a little alarmed. He 
 seemed to think that if he shouted louder, he 
 might yet make the stupid fellow understand. 
 So, pointing to the gate, he roared, " Yenez, 
 you donkey ! Yenez tout-de-suite ! Don't 
 you hear me ? " 
 
 '' Mais, oui, monsieur," said the man, 
 looking in a puzzled way from the Doctor to 
 the gate. 
 
 " No, we mayn't. Be off, tout-de-suite ! " 
 
 Fortunately, Sterne and Philip arrived at
 
 234 THE OLD ADAM. 
 
 this moment, and the man was soon got rid 
 of. At the beginning of the incident Sterne 
 had been some distance down the street, but 
 quite close enough to have noticed the change 
 in the Doctor's manner. It added greatly to 
 his perplexity ; but he had no time to think 
 about it, having to attend the cabinet council 
 in the study. 
 
 The Doctor had already taken his seat at 
 the writing-table, upon which he had laid his 
 pile of papers. His manner displayed more 
 nervous haste than usual, as he glanced at 
 each paper in turn through his gold-rimmed 
 glasses, and then put it aside. On his right 
 hand sat Mr. Valentine Gaunt, with folded 
 arms and an abstracted expression, as became 
 the solemnity of the occasion. Anxious not 
 to present the least appearance of rivalry^ 
 Sterne was standing with his back against 
 the door ; his occupation, twiddling his 
 thumbs. The two men had scarcely spoken 
 to one another since their last encounter in 
 this very room, though Sterne had done his 
 utmost to keep up appearances. Near him
 
 CRAMS AND CRAMMEES. 235 
 
 was pacing Mr. Jostler, an important-looking 
 man, thoughtfully stroking a beard which 
 reached to his waist. The other Professors 
 were grouped in various attitudes, some 
 standing, others sitting, and most talking in 
 undertones. 
 
 Presently the Doctor settled his papers, 
 cleared his throat, and began an appropriate 
 little speech which he kept in stock for these 
 occasions. 
 
 " Gentlemen," he said, with a comprehen- 
 sive glance, " I am sorry to see so many pale 
 faces around me. You are overworked ; there 
 can be no doubt about it. My object in 
 calling you together to-day is to see how we 
 can manage to shift some of the work from 
 your shoulders to those of the pupils." 
 
 The new Professors felt that this was really 
 a very kind thing to say. The others, when 
 they could do so unobserved, smiled signifi- 
 cantly at one another. 
 
 " It seems to me," the Doctor proceeded, 
 " that the weight is not well distributed ; you 
 are bearing more than your fair share of it.
 
 236 THE OLD ADAM. 
 
 Now, how can I help you ? How can I 
 h'ghten your burdens ? Only tell me " 
 
 " I have a small suggestion to offer, Dr. 
 Copingstone," announced Mr. Jostler, still 
 holding on to his beard as he stepped forward 
 to the side of the writing-table. But his 
 small suggestion being cleaj-ly embodied in 
 a lengthy speech, he was promptly suppressed. 
 
 Mr. Jostler retired, looking greatly dis- 
 gusted. It would be hard to say how often 
 he had brought forward his small suggestion 
 with the same unfortunate result. 
 
 The subject then dropped. In fact, it was 
 never meant to be taken up. 
 
 " As regards the pupils," resumed the 
 Doctor, " I'm afraid we have a poor lot — a 
 miserable lot. The fault is not yours, of 
 course ; if you could have supplied the brains, 
 you would have done it. Each generation 
 seems to be more stupid than the last. Yet 
 the questions are stiffer and the competition 
 is keener. When you and I, Mr. Sterne, 
 first started this establishment, we had none 
 of these blockheads to deal with. Of course,
 
 CRAMS AND CEAMMERS. 237 
 
 we liadn't, or I shouldn't be wliere I am 
 now." The old proud look came into his face, 
 but suddenly changed to one of annoyance. 
 " I'll wait," he said cuttingly, " until you two 
 gentlemen have finished your conversation." 
 
 This remark was addressed to the Pro- 
 fessors of Geography and Spelling, who were 
 arranging for the usual game of billiards at 
 the Lark's-Nest. They coloured and were 
 silent. Professors are but human, after all. 
 
 '' I have succeeded," continued the Doctor, 
 flourishing a paper in the air, " in getting a 
 list of the examiners. Its value to us cannot 
 be over-estimated. I must ask each of you to 
 look at it for the examiner in your particular 
 subject, and then to study his questions in 
 the past, and to make your pupils acquainted 
 with them. You will find that the elimination 
 of cram is the one idea of these wiseacres. 
 For this purpose they set ' catchy ' questions 
 which are altogether beyond the reasoning 
 powers of ordinary schoolboys, but for which 
 you can easily prepare your pupils. You 
 will notice that they avoid ' stock ' questions,
 
 238 THE OLD ADAM. 
 
 but often set the converse — for example, the 
 forty-eighth proposition of the first book of 
 Euclid instead of the forty-seventh. But you 
 will have no difficulty in discovering each 
 man's hobby. Oh ! and I have something 
 else to say. Does any one — any pupil want 
 easing off work ? If so, now is the time to 
 do it. The first moment you see any of them 
 looking dull or fagged, send him to me and 
 I'll pack him off for a holiday. Our candidates 
 must go to the post in good condition. Re- 
 member, that is half the battle. And for 
 those who are nervous among them, I say, 
 examine — examine^ — examine. Make them 
 used to examinations, give them easy questions 
 at first, and they will gain confidence." 
 
 " My method, precisely," croaked Mr. 
 Valentine Gaunt, from behind his folded 
 arms. 
 
 " Just so, Mr. Gaunt, just so," said the 
 Doctor. *' And some of these gentlemen 
 would do well to take a leaf out of your 
 book." 
 
 Before him lay a sheet of foolscap, neatly
 
 CKAMS AND CRAMMERS. 239 
 
 ruled by the Professor of Spelling. In tlie 
 first column the names of the pupils were 
 written in alphabetical order, while the other 
 columns were headed with the various sub- 
 jects, together with the maximum number of 
 marks obtainable in each. The Doctor, taking 
 up his pen, now turned his attention to this 
 paper. 
 
 " A wretched, miserable lot," he said, 
 glancing down the list. " Heavisides, Merri- 
 dale, Plantagenet, Silverspoon — why, there's 
 not a safe one among them. There is some- 
 thing very wrong somewhere. We must get 
 more work out of them ; we really must." 
 
 '^ If I might suggest," began Mr. Jostler, 
 apparently hauling himself forward by means 
 of his beard. 
 
 The Doctor waved him back, and Mr. 
 Jostler again retired in disgust. He looked 
 round for sympathy as he stood by the tiled 
 grate, but failing in this, thoughtfully awaited 
 the next opportunity for bringing forward 
 his small suggestion. He was in the un- 
 comfortable position of a man who had
 
 240 THE OLD ADAM. 
 
 prepared a speecli and wanted to ease himself 
 of it. 
 
 " Now," said the Doctor, " what will 
 Heavisides get in Latin and Greek, Mr. 
 Sterne ? " 
 
 Sterne formed a circle with his forefingers 
 and thumbs, and smiled through it ; where- 
 upon the Doctor dashed down the corre- 
 sponding figure. 
 
 "- And in your subjects, Mr. Jostler ? " he 
 asked. 
 
 " Nothing, unless " 
 
 *'Then it is utterly absurd his going up. 
 He hasn't a chance — not a ghost of a chance. 
 It would be ridiculous to ruin him and spoil 
 your average. I'll scratch him." 
 
 He ran his pen through the name of the 
 steady-going Heavisides. Many other candi- 
 dates were treated in the same way, though 
 some were considered good enough to com- 
 pete. At length it came to Philip's turn. 
 
 " Now, here is Strathclyde," said the 
 Doctor. " Latin, Mr. Sterne ? " 
 
 " Twelve hundred."
 
 CRAMS AND CRAMMERS. 241 
 
 ''Greek?" 
 
 " Seven hundred." 
 
 " English and French, Mr. Gaunt ? " 
 
 " Six hundred, and four hundred and fifty." 
 
 Leonard Sterne, still leaning against the 
 door, looked up in surprise and indignation. 
 It would have been more politic to have 
 remained silent, but he never could hold 
 aloof when he felt that a wrong was being 
 done. 
 
 " Why, Mr. Gaunt," he said, the tremor in 
 his tones showing what a powerful restraint 
 he was laying upon himself, " Philip told me 
 he was worth nearly a thousand marks in 
 each subject, and you yourself valued him 
 much higher last term." 
 
 " I have given you Strathclyde's marks. 
 Dr. Coping-stone," said Mr. Valentine Gaunt 
 coldly. 
 
 The Doctor accordingly wrote them down 
 and, when he had obtained all that Philip 
 was expected to get in his various subjects, 
 added them up. They were below tlie 
 average total gained by the successful candi- 
 
 VOL. I. R
 
 242 THE OLD ADAM. 
 
 dates who occupied the last place in tlie list 
 of recent examinations. 
 
 " Then Strathclyde won't pass," exclaimed 
 the Doctor, in dismay. " This won't do — it 
 won't do at all. I promised his aimt he 
 should pass. It must he done, Mr. Sterne. 
 It must be done, Mr. Gaunt." 
 
 " It can't be done," declared Mr. Valentine 
 G-aunt, taking a stealthy look round the 
 room. " Strathclyde is weak, not only in 
 his subjects, but also in his health. I strongly 
 advise you to hold him over until the next 
 examination." 
 
 " You will break his heart if you do," put 
 in Sterne« " He is bent upon going up now ; 
 and what is more, he intends to pass." 
 
 " Remember, Dr. Copingstone," said Mr. 
 Yalentine Gaunt, with that hovering move- 
 ment of the hand, '' I have warned you." 
 
 "He shall go," said the Doctor, speaking 
 with decision because he wished to get Philip 
 out of Puddleton. 
 
 Had Sterne known this, he would have 
 felt less satisfaction at his victory. It seemed
 
 CRAMS AND CRAMMERS. 243 
 
 to him almost as if there was a chance of old 
 times coming back again. 
 
 After this little skirmish, business pro- 
 gressed smoothly, and one by one the fate of 
 all the pupils was determined. Referring to 
 the unfortunates who had been scratched, the 
 Doctor said, in conclusion — 
 
 " Now mind that you don't tell these poor 
 fellows. Let them fancy they are going up 
 until the last moment, keep them going, and 
 get as much work out of them as possible. 
 It won't do them any harm, and will keep 
 them out of mischief." 
 
 Here Mr. Jostler again advanced with his 
 big beard and his small suggestion. But the 
 Doctor no sooner became aware of his inten- 
 tion than he sprang to his feet, and with a 
 hasty " Good morning, gentlemen," rushed 
 from the room. 
 
 Mr. Jostler, though an excellent tutor, was 
 so long-winded as to have become a perfect 
 terror to his chief. He gazed in surprised 
 distress at the tall thin figure flying from 
 him, and then, consoling himself with the
 
 244 THE OLD ADAM. 
 
 reflection that his speech would do for another 
 occasion, followed the other Professors out of 
 the Rectory. 
 
 When Sterne reached the street, he looked 
 about for the French beggar, but found that 
 he had disappeared. Other people might be 
 deceived by the Doctor's cheerfulness, but he 
 had learnt to look beneath it. A crisis, he 
 felt, was gradually approaching, unless the 
 unexpected should intervene to prevent it. 
 So he was ready to clutch at any straw, and 
 to connect things that apparently had no 
 connection. 
 
 Philip, who now joined him, gave his 
 thoughts a powerful impetus in this direction.
 
 ( 245 ) 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 GROPING IX THE DARK. ' 
 
 The cabinet council bad scarcely commenced 
 wben it occurred to Philip to make an 
 attempt to see Nellie. So be turned down 
 by the Splasbwater, went past tbe groaning* 
 old mill, and emerged in tbe meadow at tbe 
 back of tbe Rectory garden. In spite of tbe 
 Doctor's watcb fulness and Nellie's protests, 
 Pbilip bad waylaid ber bere more tban once 
 before, for about tbis time sbe usually re- 
 turned from visiting an old woman wbo lived 
 in a cottage at tbe bottom of tbe lane skirting 
 tbe meadow. It was perfectly fair, Pbilip 
 declared; be bad frankly told tbe Doctor 
 wbat be meant to do ; and no fault could be 
 found witb Nellie, wbo really could not belp 
 berself.
 
 246 THE OLD ADAM. 
 
 Philip strolled along by the side of the 
 sedgy mill-dam, where the ducks were splash- 
 ing about as if in anticipation of rain, and 
 sat down beneath the clump of alders. The 
 clouds hung heavy over the grassy slopes of 
 Camelback, but the sunlight was tinging with 
 a ruddy glow the line of straggling brick 
 houses peeping from among the trees. Philip 
 felt a certain accession of hopefulness when 
 he turned his eyes from the dark hill before 
 him to this bright scene, backed by a medley 
 oj" green fields which rose and fell like the 
 billows of the ocean. Not that he was inclined 
 to despondency ; only there were times of 
 doubt when his own strength compared less 
 favourably with the Doctor's powers of re- 
 sistance. 
 
 But any cloud that may have crossed his 
 mind, instantly vanished when he beheld 
 Nellie tripping along through the buttercups 
 and daisies. The sleepy cows gazed wonder- 
 ingly at the dainty figure that, basket in 
 hand, glided before them like a beautiful 
 fairy. There was a happy smile on her face,
 
 GROPING m THE DARK. 247 
 
 but her rosy lips were pursed up to administer 
 a severe reprimand to this obstinate lover 
 who would pursue her, notwithstanding all 
 she might say to the contrary. 
 
 '' Oh, fie, you naughty boy ! " she ex- 
 claimed, shaking her finger reprovingly at 
 the handsome fair-haired lad who was ad- 
 vancing to meet her. " Philip, you really are 
 a positive wretch. How often have I told you, 
 sir, that you mustn't come near me, and yet 
 here you are again, looking as saucy as ever!" 
 
 " You dear sweet blue-eyed thing," said 
 Philip fondly. " How can I help coming 
 
 near 
 
 you 
 
 9 
 
 " You must wait until my father gives his 
 consent, if he ever does." 
 
 " Oh, but I can't wait, and I'm going to 
 have another shot at him soon, Nellie. Drop 
 -—drop — drop, that's the way to make an 
 impression upon his stony heart. Dear me, 
 in another two months I shall have a good 
 appointment." 
 
 '^ That's if you pass, Philip." 
 
 ''And I intend to pass, NelHe." (We shall
 
 248 THE OLD ADAM. 
 
 see presently that he does nothing of the 
 sort, but through no fault of his own.) " And 
 when I have passed, I shall go to the Doctor 
 and say, ' I have come again to ask you for 
 the sweetest, prettiest 
 
 " Don't be fooL'sh, sir," said Nellie, pouting. 
 " I told my father that you never did talk 
 nonsense, but I see now I was wrong. And, 
 oh, Philip" — the long dark lashes drooped, 
 and a blush spread over the dimpled cheeks — 
 " I have something to tell you." 
 
 " Say on, Nellie." 
 
 She looked up timidly as she said, " Mr. 
 Gaunt has given me a bracelet." 
 
 He staggered back as if a blow had struck 
 him. Mrs. Sterne's suspicion about the 
 missing photograph had stirred in him some 
 very disquieting thoughts, and they started 
 before him now in letters cf fire. His face 
 was bloodless, and he gasped for breath. 
 
 *' My poor, poor Philip," cried Nellie in 
 terror, " what have I done ? I haven't taken 
 the bracelet, but I'm afraid my father hasn't 
 given it back."
 
 GEOPING IN THE DARK. 249 
 
 Great as his relief was, he was still too 
 deeply moved to speak at once. When he 
 did, he said in a low voice — 
 
 " Not given it back, my pet ! What do 
 you mean ? " 
 
 " I think," she replied, after some hesita- 
 tion, " he doesn't wish to offend Mr. Gaunt, 
 and as I wouldn't keep it, he kept it himself" 
 
 " So Mr. Gaunt imagines you have it 
 still ? " 
 
 " I suppose so." 
 
 " Then," declared Philip, impulsively, " I'll 
 just go straight to Mr. Gaunt and undeceive 
 him. I'll tell him that you are engaged to 
 me. 
 
 " Oh, Philip," cried Nellie, blushing more 
 deeply, " you can't do that ; you can't, indeed. 
 I ask it, Philip, for my sake. And remember " 
 — she turned her head away — " Mr. Gaunt 
 might think that my father had been doing 
 something wrong, instead of wishing to 
 protect me." 
 
 Philip felt exceedingly angry with the 
 Doctor for obliging his daughter to participate
 
 250 THE OLD ADAM. 
 
 in a deception in order to shield himself. It 
 was the very thing to grate most harshly 
 upon the lad's keen sense of honour, and yet 
 he was not in a position to protest against it. 
 It was a bitter pill for him to swallow, 
 making him distrust the Doctor, the man in 
 whom he should have had the most implicit 
 confidence. He had but one consolation, 
 that if Mr. Valentine Gaunt was really 
 scheming to win Nellie, he had in no way 
 advanced his prospects so far as she was 
 concerned. Upon this point she succeeded in 
 reassuring Philip more completely than she 
 was able to reassure herself; for she saw the 
 direction in which events were moving, and 
 disobedience to her father s will was a thing 
 that she could not contemplate. 
 
 When Nellie reached the Rectory, she laid 
 her hat and basket on the hall-table and then 
 entered the study, which was by this time 
 deserted. She was very fond of the room 
 because of its bow-window looking out upon 
 the tennis-ground, while through the other 
 window she could see anybody approaching
 
 GEOPING IN THE DAKK. 251 
 
 the front door. Besides, it was well supplied 
 with all kinds of books, which tended to 
 impress upon visitors the vast extent of the 
 Doctor's learning. Since her mother's death 
 Nellie had been thrown upon her own re- 
 sources, and when not engaged in errands of 
 mercy in the parish or riding with her father, 
 she employed most of her time in reading. 
 It was her delight to sit, with a book on her 
 lap, in a low basket chair placed for her 
 especial use in the bow-window, while the 
 Doctor dashed off a pile of letters, or, as 
 frequently happened, dozed : a thing that 
 he always indignantly denied, for he was 
 very proud of telling everybody how early 
 he rose in the morning, and how hard he 
 worked all day. Even in this he was true 
 to himself. 
 
 There was a troubled look in Nellie's blue 
 eyes, as she took her favourite seat in the 
 bow-window. She was gazing at some far- 
 away prospect which she could see but dimly, 
 and dreaded all the more on that account. 
 Her hands were clasped upon her knees, and
 
 252 THE OLD ADAM. 
 
 her graceful figure was bent slightly forward, 
 and so she sat for a little while. 
 
 Presently her thoughts reverted to the old 
 woman she had been visiting ; a queer old 
 body — very crooked and very deaf, with long 
 white curls framing her shrivelled face — who 
 had a habit of opening the Bible at random, 
 when she wanted to pry into the future. 
 Why should not she do the same ? Even if 
 she could not place the same reliance upon it, 
 it might give her some comfort, when every- 
 thing looked so dark and hopeless. Her 
 happiness was interwoven with Philip's, and 
 her father s was set upon the house of cards 
 that he was ever building higher and higher; 
 dissension was already threatening the one, 
 and the other seemed well-nigh desperate. 
 Perhaps she might get a gleam of light by 
 following the old woman's example. So, 
 sweeping from her pretty pensive face the 
 masses of dark hair that had clustered over 
 her forehead, as if she were then brushing 
 the troubles aside, Nellie rose and walked to 
 the bookcase.
 
 GKOPING IN THE DARK. 253 
 
 It was a handsome, old- fashioned piece of 
 furniture, made of dark, highly-polished 
 mahogany, and divided into three compart- 
 ments, each provided with a glass door, the 
 centre one being double the size of the others. 
 The wings were filled chiefly with heavy 
 works on divinity, which could not have 
 possessed any great attraction for the Doctor, 
 the doors not having been opened for years ; 
 indeed, the very keys had disappeared. As 
 Martha, the old housemaid, had no recollec- 
 tion of ever having seen any, it had been 
 suggested that the Doctor had bought books 
 and bookcase all complete at an auction. 
 
 Nellie opened the door of the central com- 
 partment, to which she always went for her 
 books. She thought that she might find 
 there what she wanted ; besides, there was the 
 possibility of coming across some other treasure 
 in her search. She had never properly ex- 
 plored the top shelves, but by means of a 
 chair she did so now. While thus employed, 
 her attention was drawn to a large, finely- 
 bound book lying in the right wing. Though
 
 254 THE OLD ADAM. 
 
 it was partly hidden beneatli dust and papers, 
 she perceived it to be an illustrated family 
 Bible, the very thing she was looking for. 
 But how was she to get it ? 
 
 She shook the glass door, but that did no 
 good. After a little reflection, it occurred to 
 her to try tlie key of the central door, and 
 great was her delight at hearing a *' click" as 
 the key turned in the lock. Nellie soon had 
 the cumbrous book in her arms. She dusted 
 it very carefully, and then carried it to her 
 chair in the window. This done, she walked 
 back to the bookcase, and closed the door in 
 order to give the Doctor an agreeable little 
 surprise when he came in. He would be 
 very pleased, she felt, that she had discovered 
 a way of getting at the contents of the wings ; 
 a task which he had often told her he dared 
 not entrust to the bungling workmen of 
 Puddleton. 
 
 Nellie sat down with the Bible in her lap. 
 There was a slight trembling about the 
 corners of the tiny mouth, as she held the 
 heavy book so as to let it fall open ; but the
 
 GROPING IN THE DARK. 255 
 
 next moment it partly slipped from her grasp 
 and opened at the very beginning, at the page 
 headed " Family Register." 
 
 With what strange interest do we regard 
 everything that lies near either end of the 
 silver cord ! How eagerly do we hang upon 
 the last words of him who is leaving us for 
 that bourne whence there is no return ! 
 Already its dark shadow is upon him. Can 
 he see what is hidden from our eyes ? Can 
 he hear what is inaudible to our ears ? We 
 watch and listen, but never a ray or echo has 
 yet reached us. It is the same with the 
 beginning as with the end. Those tiny mites 
 of humanity just arrived from another world, 
 their fists clenched as if they had heard of 
 the stern fight that lay before them, what can 
 they tell us about the past ? They, too, are 
 silent on the subject, though we watch them 
 wonderingly. 
 
 It is with something of the same awe that 
 we behold in the family Bible the record of 
 our birth, written probably on the very day, 
 possibly in the very hour, when we came
 
 256 THE OLD ADAM. 
 
 into the world. The book, perhaps a wedding 
 present to our parents ; the paper yellow with 
 age ; the ink faded ; the handwriting shaky, 
 smudged, and sometimes stained with tears ; 
 and often — oh, how often ! — an awful " died," 
 and a never-to-be-forgotten date, following 
 the name of one we loved. As we gaze, 
 memory after memory passes before us ; our 
 eyes grow dim, and our lips quiver. Another 
 will turn from these memorable landmarks in 
 our lives with a careless glance ; but for us, 
 they are a record of hopes destroyed and fears 
 realized, of many sobs and few smiles, of life 
 and death. 
 
 Nellie experienced a sudden shock at per- 
 ceiving where the book had opened. It set 
 all her nerves vibrating, not so much from 
 any superstitious influence as from the fact 
 that here would be recorded the death of her 
 darling mother. Some feeling that she could 
 not account for, prevented her from turning 
 to another place, and yet she kept her eyes 
 averted from the page. They were drawn to it 
 at last, however, almost against her own will ;
 
 GROPINa IN THE DARK. 257 
 
 some strange fascination seemed to drag them 
 along the pattern on the carpet nntil, after 
 making a final pause at her pretty little feet, 
 they rested upon her father's well-known 
 handwriting — and a shocking scrawl it was. 
 
 And now her expression changed to one 
 of utter bewilderment, and she began to 
 tremble, she scarcely knew why. Lower and 
 lower she bent her head, following each 
 word with her finger, as if to guard against 
 the possibility of making a mistake. In this 
 way she read through the entries twice. Her 
 cheeks had gradually been growing paler, 
 and when she drew herself erect, she sat as 
 rigid and almost as white as a marble statue. 
 Though Nellie had a singularly sweet young 
 face, she now looked quite ten years older 
 than she really was. 
 
 But at the sound of a footstep on the gravel 
 outside, the blood rushed back to her cheeks, 
 and she started into animation. In tremulous 
 haste she thrust the Bible behind the window- 
 curtain, and when the Doctor entered, a 
 moment or so later, she was gazing thought- 
 
 VOL. I. S
 
 258 THE OLD ADAM. 
 
 fully at the tennis-court. Not a word was 
 said about the agreeable little surprise. 
 
 Meanwhile, Philip had met Sterne at the 
 Eectory gate, and the two friends walked 
 back to the Hut together. They entered the 
 study, lighted their pipes, and sat down to 
 talk. 
 
 Sterne prudently abstained from saying 
 anything about Mr. Yalentine Gaunt's oppo- 
 sition. He told Philip that he was included 
 in the next batch of candidates, and nothing 
 more. Philip received the announcement as 
 a matter of course, for he had never dreamed 
 of the smallest difficulty. He did not even 
 inquire the number of marks allotted to him, 
 but passed on to another subject. 
 
 " Did you notice," he asked, " how 
 frightened the Doctor was of that French 
 beggar ? " 
 
 " He did seem a little startled," replied 
 Sterne. 
 
 " A little startled ! Dear me, I thought he 
 looked terrified. And I'll tell you another 
 thing, which has just struck me for the first
 
 GKOPING m THE DAEK. 259 
 
 time. There is not a single foreign tutor in 
 Puddleton. Has there ever been ? " 
 
 ^' No. French and Gi-erman have always 
 been taught by an Englishman." 
 
 " Well, don't you think that a very strange 
 thing ? " 
 
 Sterne emitted a cloud of smoke before he 
 replied, " I suppose the Doctor doesn't like 
 foreigners." 
 
 He was trying to connect the fact that Mr. 
 Valentine Gaunt taught French with his 
 influence over the Doctor ; but could not see 
 his way to it. He could not but feel it to be 
 a wild idea, and yet it seemed to throw a 
 glimmer of light upon the testimonials, which 
 he knew must have spoken of their possessor's 
 knowledge of French. The worst of the 
 supposition was, that it made the matter more 
 inexplicable than ever. 
 
 " I wish there were a French tutor here," 
 said Philip. " I frankly admit that Mr. 
 Gaunt gets magnificent marks for his pupils, 
 but I can't endure the man." 
 
 " Steady, Philip, steady ! "
 
 260 THE OLD ADAM. 
 
 " Well, it's the fact. What do you think 
 he has been doing ? Giving Nellie a 
 bracelet. Perhaps I shouldn't have told you, 
 but it's out now." 
 
 Leonard Sterne looked very grave. He 
 turned his chair round towards the window 
 where Philip was sitting on the couch ; and 
 with his elbows resting on the writing-table, 
 commenced a series of questions which soon 
 put him in possession of the whole story. It 
 made him extremely uncomfortable, for he 
 Irad a genuine affection for ISTellie as well as 
 for Philip. There could be no doubt that the 
 very catastrophe he dreaded had been brought 
 a step nearer. 
 
 " Oh," cried Philip, with deep feeling, 
 " how happy we all were before Mr. Gaunt 
 came into the place ! He has done nothing 
 but set everybody at sixes and sevens. I'm 
 quite sure the Doctor doesn't like him, for I 
 have caught a queer furtive look in his face 
 at times." 
 
 " I don't think you have any right to say 
 that, PhiHp."
 
 GKOPING IN THE DARK. 261 
 
 " AYell, perhaps not ; it was only my fancy. 
 But, at any rate, he looks a good deal older 
 than he did a few months ago ; and some- 
 times, when he doesn't know any one is watch- 
 ing, he scarcely seems happy. So I naturally 
 set down his worries to the same cause as my 
 own, and that is Mr. Gaunt. I wonder what 
 the man was before he came here." 
 
 " Why, a tutor, of course," said Sterne in 
 surprise. 
 
 " Not he ; I'm positive of that. He has all 
 the papers at his fingers' ends now, but at 
 first he didn't know a single question — not 
 one. He has got them up since. So, if he 
 taught anything at all, it was not for the 
 Civil Service Examinations ; and he did 
 everything so clumsily until we put him in 
 the way of it, that I'm sure this is his first 
 tutorship." 
 
 As Philip was only retailing what had 
 long been common gossip among the pupils, 
 it would, in the ordinary course of events, 
 have reached Sterne's ears shortly after it 
 was started ; but he had never allowed any
 
 262 THE OLD ADAM. 
 
 one in his presence to say anything against 
 Mr. Yalentine Gaunt , and so had never heard 
 it until now. It astonished him, and added 
 greatly to his perplexity. If Mr. Yalentine 
 Gaunt had not been a tutor, how had he 
 obtained his testimonials ? Surely they could 
 not be forgeries. Even if he were capable of 
 such an act, how, by their means, could he 
 have got the Doctor into his power ? With 
 genuine testimonials the answer was difficult 
 enough, but forged ones seemed to put it 
 qjiite beyond the bounds of possibility. It 
 was another ungenerous thought, Sterne 
 decided, as he pulled away vigorously at his 
 pipe. 
 
 " As for keeping order in his classes," con- 
 tinued Philip, who, though not in the habit 
 of saying things of the sort, had been made 
 exceedingly angry by the gift of the bracelet, 
 " dear me, the man hasn't a notion of it." 
 
 " There, my boy," interrupted Sterne, 
 *' you know I don't care to discuss that subject 
 with you." 
 
 " Well, may I tell you of an odd thing that
 
 GKOPING m THE DARK. 263 
 
 happened last term ? There was a great row 
 going on at the time, and that is what has 
 reminded me of it, but Mr. Gaunt himself was 
 away in London." 
 
 " Yes, I don't see any harm in that." 
 
 Philip accordingly described the episode 
 of the wig. He mentioned the name and 
 address of the maker, and Sterne made a 
 mental note of them, though not with any 
 definite purpose. Further conversation was 
 stopped by the gong for lunch. 
 
 " You'll stay, Philip ? " inquired Sterne, 
 laying down his pipe. 
 
 " No, thank you. I promised to get home 
 early." 
 
 " Well, if you w^on't, you won't. I must 
 trot along and wash my paws. Philip, let 
 me give you a timely piece of advice taught 
 me by my pupils, the sons of the first gentle- 
 men in England. Soil your tongue as much 
 as you like, and you may still be a fine 
 fellow ; but, whatever you do, keep your 
 hands clean." With a laugh, he opened the 
 door and disappeared.
 
 264 THE OLD ADAM. 
 
 When Philip gained the street, he met one 
 or two of his friends hurrying in to lunch, 
 and stopped to chat with them. He had 
 always been a favourite with the other pupils ; 
 he was an adept in all sports for one thing, 
 and so full of spirits and good-humour for 
 another. But, since hearing of his engage- 
 ment to Nellie, they had elevated him to the 
 position of a hero. The Doctor had flatly 
 denied it. Gammon had made many mer- 
 cenary statements to the same effect, and Mr. 
 Valentine Gaunt had grown quite rancorous 
 on the subject ; but Philip, when appealed to, 
 had stated exactly how matters stood. He 
 was engaged to Nellie, he declared, and he 
 would win her or perish in the attempt ; a 
 sentiment that gained for him an immense 
 amount of admiration. Henceforth, the 
 sonnets ceased, and the poets mourned their 
 occupation gone, for all had an hereditary 
 hatred of anything in the nature of poach- 
 ing ; they retired from the field in favour 
 of Philip, who had their heartiest sympa- 
 thies. This was a factor that might have
 
 GKOPING IN THE DAEK. 265 
 
 to be reckoned with, for the pupils were 
 undeniably a power — if not the power — in 
 Puddleton. 
 
 Philip was surprised at not meeting any 
 of them as he pursued his way through 
 the village. It was generally pretty quiet 
 about this hour, but not such a complete 
 wilderness as now. There was not a soul 
 to be seen, even Gammon's shop by the 
 bridge being empty. As the pupils usually 
 straggled in to lunch, Philip had to look 
 elsewhere for an explanation. " I suppose," 
 he concluded, " they are hard at work for the 
 exam." 
 
 He had scarcely arrived at this conclusion 
 when he became aware of a noise which 
 rapidly developed into a prodigious din — the 
 galloping of horses, the rattling of harness, 
 the tootling of coach-horns, shouts, cheers, 
 and laughter all mingled together, as if a 
 battery of demons were bearing down upon 
 the scene. People rushed to their doors and 
 windows ; as if by magic, the street was lined 
 with curious faces. There was a sharp turn
 
 266 THE OLD ADAM. 
 
 a short distance below the bridge, and Philip 
 hastened towards the group that had collected 
 at this spot. 
 
 The din increased every moment, and pre- 
 sently the cause of it came into view — a coach 
 and ten, the roof crammed with pupils and 
 bristling with horns and surmounted by a 
 large red flag. Silverspoon, mounted on the 
 box, was driving the four nearest horses ; 
 whilst the rest of the team, harnessed together 
 in some mysterious way, were managed by 
 three jockeys in scarlet, who were none other 
 than Merridale, Tattlemaine, and the steady- 
 going Heavisides, the latter's broad face 
 beaming with delight. " Eh, my ! but the 
 young gents is agoing it, to be sure ! " 
 observed Joseph Haply ; and they certainly 
 were '* agoing it," the most wonderful thing 
 being that they had contrived to save their 
 necks. 
 
 ** The Manor, sir — going to the Manor ? " 
 cried Plantagenet, the guard. 
 
 " Yes," replied Philip, very glad to get a 
 ride home.
 
 GROPING IN THE DARK. 267 
 
 When he had scrambled up he was in- 
 formed that the coach was a holiday present 
 to Silverspoon, who had organized a party to 
 fetch it from Stilbury. Taking a scratch 
 collection of harness, they had ridden over 
 on their own horses, and were now returning 
 in triumph. The policy of giving a coach to 
 the young viscount at this period of his educa- 
 tion may be open to question ; but then it 
 mattered very little to Silverspoon, who was 
 destined for the Guards, whether he did or 
 did not pass his examination — in either case, 
 he was merely qualifying for a seat in the 
 House of Lords. 
 
 His team was certainly a strange one, each 
 member of it going its own particular pace, 
 while the jockeys laughed and shouted, and 
 the horns tootled on the roof. There was 
 a general cheer when the Hive came in 
 sight and Mr. Valentine Graunt was seen to 
 be standing in the road. He was talking to 
 a disreputable-looking man, who on nearer 
 inspection turned out to be the French 
 beggar. They separated as the coach rattled
 
 268 THE OLD ADAM. 
 
 on towards them, and when it went by, the 
 methodical Professor took off his hat and 
 playfully waved it in the air. They cheered 
 him for this and asked him to jump up ; but, 
 shaking his head pleasantly, he entered his 
 garden. 
 
 After his conversation with Sterne, Philip 
 was rather startled at seeing the French 
 beggar in Mr. Valentine Gaunt's company, 
 for he had noticed the influence of each upon 
 the Doctor. If only he could interview the 
 fellow, he might learn something that would 
 enable him to help the Doctor, and so bring 
 himself nearer to Nellie. Philip had no 
 sooner formed the idea than he determined 
 to put it into practice. 
 
 As he could not very safely leave his seat 
 on the roof while the coach was swaying 
 like a ship at sea, he requested Silverspoon 
 to pull up : a difficult task, involving a con- 
 siderable amount of time. However, the ten 
 horses were eventually brought to a stand- 
 still, whereupon Philip descended and began 
 to retrace the way towards the village.
 
 GROPING IN THE DARK. 269 
 
 When he turned the corner of the road, he 
 saw the French beggar approaching the gate 
 of the Hut, and hastened forward to meet 
 him. 
 
 END OF VOL. I. 
 
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