Harpour and Jones, in their hatred against Walter, had an especial reason to keep Eden as far as they could under subjection, in addition to their general propensity to bully and domineer. They did not care to torment him when Walter was present, because with him, in spite of their hostility, they felt it wise to maintain an armed neutrality. But whenever Walter was absent, they felt themselves safe. None of the other boys in their dormitory interfered except Henderson, and his interposition, though always generous, was both morally and physically weaker than Walter’s. He would not, indeed, allow any positive cruelty, but he was not thoughtful or stable enough to see the duty of interfering to prevent other and hardly less tolerable persecutions.
It so happened that at a game of cricket Walter by accident had received a blow on the knee from the cricket-ball bowled by Franklin, who was a tremendously hard and swift bowler. The hurt which this had caused was so severe that he was ordered by Dr Keith to sleep on the ground-floor in the cottage for a fortnight, in order to save him the exertion of running up and down so many stairs. The opportunity of this prolonged absence was maliciously seized by the tyrants of Number 10; but Eden bore up far more manfully than he had done in the old days. He was quite a different, and a far braver little fellow, thanks to Walter, than he had been the term before; and, looking forward to his friend’s speedy return, he determined to bear his troubles without saying a word about them. He was far more bullied during this period than Henderson knew of, for some of the threats and commands by which he was coerced were given in Henderson’s absence, as he was allowed to sit up half an hour later than those in the form below. For instance, Eden was ordered never to look at a book or to finish learning his lessons in the bedroom; and he was strictly forbidden to get up until the second bell rang in the morning. If he disobeyed these orders, he was soused with water, pelted with shoes, and beaten with slippers, and on the whole he found it better to be content to lose place in form, and to get impositions for missing chapel, than to attempt to brave these hindrances. When, however, he had been late two mornings running, Henderson got the secret out of him, and at once entreated Harpour and Jones to abandon this cruelty, throwing out hints that if they refused, he would take some measures to get it stopped by one of the monitors. If Eden had been plucky enough to embrace his natural right of obtaining protection from one of his own schoolfellows in the sixth, he would have been efficiently defended. Appealing to a monitor in order to secure immunity from disgraceful and wholly intolerable bullying is a very different thing from telling a master; and although the worst boys tried to get it traditionally regarded as an unmitigated form of sneaking, yet the public opinion of the best part of the school would have been found to justify it. But the two bullies knew that Eden would never have the heart to venture on this appeal; and although they desisted from this particular practice at Henderson’s request, they knew that he was too wavering a character, and too fond of popularity to be easily induced to make them his open enemies. If Eden had only told Walter, he knew that Walter would have sheltered him from unkindness at all hazards; but he was a thoroughly grateful child, and did not wish to get Walter into any difficulties on his account. So, in schoolboy phrase, there was nothing left for him but to “grin and bear it;” which he heroically did, earnestly longing for Walter’s return to the dormitory as for some golden age. But his trials were not over yet.
Is there in human nature an instinctive cruelty? That there is in it—when ill-trained—an absorbing selfishness, a total absence of all tenderness and delicate consideration, is abundantly obvious. But besides this, there is often an astonishing and almost incredible tendency to take positive pleasure in the infliction of pain. Now it so happens that Jones and Harpour were bad boys, as I have shown already, in the worst sense of the word, and yet the real enjoyment which they felt in making little Eden’s life miserable is an inexplicable phenomenon. One would have thought that the mere sight of the little boy, his tender age; his delicate look, his extreme gentleness and courtesy of manner, and the mute appealing glance in his blue eyes, would have sufficed to protect him from wanton outrage. It did suffice with most boys; but if anything, it added zest and piquancy to the persecutions of those two big bullies.
Reader, have you ever been “taken prisoner?” that is to say, have you ever been awaked from a sweet sleep by feeling an intolerable agony in your right toe, and finding that it is caused by somebody having tied a string tight round it without waking you, and then pulling the said string with all his force? If not, congratulate yourself thereupon, and accept the assurance of one who has undergone it, that the pain caused by this process is absolutely excruciating. It was this pain which made Eden start up with a scream during one of the nights I speak of, and the cry rose in intensity as he grew fully awake to the sensation.
“Hallo! what’s the row, Eden?” said Henderson, starting up in bed; but the child could only continue his screams, and Henderson, springing out of bed stumbled against the string, and instantly (for the trick was a familiar one) knew what was being done. As quick as thought he seized the string with his right-hand and, by pulling it towards Eden, slackened the horrible tension of it, while with his left-hand he rapidly took out a knife from his coat pocket and cut the cord in two.
Jones and Harpour, tittering at the success of their machination, were standing with the string in their hands just outside the door in the passage, and the sudden jerk showed them that the string was severed.
“I’ll tell you what it is,” said Henderson to them, with the most deliberate emphasis, “I don’t care if you do lick me for telling you the truth, but you two are just a couple of the greatest brutes in the school.”
“What’s the matter, Flip?” asked Franklin, from his bed, in a drowsy tone.
“Matter! why those two brutes,” said Henderson, with strong indignation, “have been taking poor little Eden prisoner, and hurting him awfully.”
“What a confounded shame!” said Franklin and Anthony in one voice; for they, too, though they were sturdy fellows, had had some experience of the bullies in their earlier school days; and of late, following Walter’s example, they had always energetically opposed this maltreatment of Eden.