I never was brave one step beyond being able to do what must be done and bear what must be borne; and now it was not courage that inspired me, but a righteous wrath.
I did my best, got a good many hard blows, and planted not one in return, for I had never fought in my life. I do believe Home spared me, conscious of wrong. Meantime some of them had lifted Charley and carried him into the house.
Before I was thoroughly mauled, which must have been the final result, for I would not give in, the master appeared, and in a voice such as I had never heard from him before, ordered us all into the school-room.
‘Fighting like bullies!’ he said. ‘I thought my pupils were gentlemen at least!’
Perhaps dimly aware that he had himself given some occasion to this outbreak, and imagining in his heart a show of justice, he seized Home by the collar, and gave him a terrible cut with the riding-whip which he had caught up in his anger. Home cried out, and the same moment Charley appeared, pale as death.
‘Oh, sir!’ he said, laying his hand on the master’s arm appealingly, ‘I was to blame too.’
‘I don’t doubt it,’ returned Mr Forest. ‘I shall settle with you presently. Get away!’
‘Now, sir,’ he continued, turning to me—and held the whip suspended, as if waiting a word from me to goad him on. He looked something else than a gentleman himself just then. It was a sudden outbreak of the beast in him. ‘Will you tell me why you punish me, sir, if you please? What have I done?’ I said.
His answer was such a stinging blow that for a moment I was bewildered, and everything reeled about me. But I did not cry out—I know that, for I asked two of the fellows after.
‘You prate about justice!’ he said. ‘I will let you know what justice means—to you at least.’