“That settles it clean!” he muttered to himself. “I say! who’d have thought it!”
Then he sat down and went over the incidents of the last twenty-four hours.
Last night—it is sad to have to record it—Arthur had been out in the big square at half-past nine, when he should have been in bed. He had been over to find a ball which he had lost during the morning while playing catch with Dig out of the window. On his way back—he remembered it now—he had had rather a perilous time. First of all he had nearly run into the arms of Branscombe, the captain of Bickers’s house, who was inconveniently prowling about at the time, probably in search of some truant of his own house. Then in doubling to avoid this danger he had dimly sighted Mr Bickers himself, taking a starlight walk on Railsford’s side of the square. Finally, in his last bolt home, he had encountered Railsford stalking moodily under the shadow of his own house, and too preoccupied to notice, still less to challenge, the truant.
All this Arthur remembered now, and, carrying his mind a day or two further back, he recalled Mr Bickers’s uninvited visit to the house—Arthur had painful cause to remember it—and Railsford’s evident resentment of the intrusion, and the threatenings of slaughter which had been bandied about between the two houses ever since.
“Why,” said Arthur to himself, “it’s as clear as a pikestaff. I see it all now. Bickers said it was about a quarter to ten when he was collared. No fellows would be about then, and certainly no one would know that he would be passing our door, except Marky. Marky must have been actually hanging about for him when I passed! What a pity I didn’t stop to see the fun! Yes, he’d got his sack ready, and had jammed the door open with this paper, and got his matches handy. Bickers would never see him till he came close up, and then Marky would have the sack on in two twos before he could halloa. My eye! I would never have believed it of Marky. Served Bickers right, of course, and it’ll be a lesson to him; but it’ll be hot for Marky if he’s found out. Bickers says there may have been more than one fellow on the job, but I don’t fancy it. If Mark had had anybody, he’d have got me to help him, because it would be all in the family, and I’d be bound to keep it dark. Wouldn’t he turn green if he knew I’d twigged him! Anyhow, I’ll keep it as close as putty now, and help him worry through. Very knowing of him to go with a candle and let him out this morning, and look so struck all of a heap. He took me in regularly.”
Arthur said this to himself in a tone which implied that if Mark had been able to take him in, it was little to be wondered at that all the rest of the house had been hoodwinked.
“Hard luck,” thought he condescendingly. “I daren’t tell Dig. He’s such a gossip, it would be all over the place in a day. Wonder if I’d best let Marky know I’ve spotted him? Think not. He wouldn’t like it, and as long as he’s civil I’ll back him up for Daisy’s sake.”
Then, having stumbled on to the thought of home, it occurred to him that since the opening day, when he had sent a postcard to announce his arrival, he had not yet troubled his relatives with a letter this term. It was a chance, while he was in the humour, to polish them off now; so he took up his pen, and thus discoursed to his indulgent sister:—
“Dear Da,—Mark’s all right so far. He doesn’t hit it with a lot of the chaps, and now and then we hate him, but he lets Dig and me alone, and doesn’t interfere with Smiley. I hope you and he keep it up, because it would make me look rather foolish if it was all off, especially as Dimsdale and one or two of the chaps happen to have heard about it, and have bets on that it won’t last over the summer holidays.
“I’m getting on very well, and working hard at French. Je suis allant à commencer translater une chose par Molière le prochain term si je suis bon. There’s a howling row on in the house just now. Bickers got nobbled and sacked the other night, and shoved in the boot-box, and nobody knows who did it. I’ve a notion, but I’m bound to keep it dark for the sake of a mutual friend. It would be as rough as you like for him if it came out. But I believe in assistant un boiteux chien au travers de la stile; so I’m keeping it all dark. Ponsford has been down on us like a sack of coals. They’ve shoved forward our dinner-hour to one o’clock, so we’re regularly dished over the sports, especially as Saturday afternoon has been changed into morning. The house will go to the dogs now, mais que est les odds si longtemps que vous êtes heureuses? Dig sends his love. He and I remember the loved ones at home, and try to be good. By the way, do you think pater could go another five bob? I’m awfully hard up, my dear Daisy, and should greatly like not to get into evil ways and borrow from Dig. Can you spare me a photograph to stick up on the mantelpiece to remind me of you always? You needn’t send a cabinet one, because they cost too much. I’d sooner have a carte-de-visite and the rest in stamps, if you don’t mind. I’m doing my best to give Marky a leg-up. I could get him into a row and a half if I liked, but for your sake I’m keeping it all dark. I hope you’ll come down soon. It will be an awful game if you do, and I’ll promise to keep the fellows from grinning. Maintenant, il faut que je close haut. Donnez mon amour à mère et père, et esperant que vous êtes tout droit, souvenez me votre aimant frère, Arthur Herapath. Dig envoie son amour à tous.”