November 1st.—Chandos has got himself into a scrape, and nobody seems to know what it is about. I have asked several of the fellows, but they only shake their heads and tell me I know more about it than they do. I am sure I do not; but as Chandos shares my room they think I must be in his secrets, I suppose. I cannot help wondering what it is—something that has got the governor's back up awfully, I can see. Chandos has been locked up all day in the punishment-room, and nobody seems to know whether he will be let out to-night. I wish I was sure he was not coming, and I would try to get Tom in here, and we'd have some fun for once. I wonder what the young lady has been up to.
November 14th.—I have not written up my log for a fortnight, and now I have only a miserable tale to tell. At first I thought I'd give up the log, as Tom will never be my lieutenant now to laugh over it; but I'll keep on with it a bit longer. I thought we should often laugh over Tom's setting the farm-yard at liberty as he did, but somehow it seems to have been a dreadful trouble to everybody; but no one can feel just as I do about it, for it has taken my old chum away from me, and we can never be again what we have been. What did they want to make such a fuss about it for, and punish Miss Chandos? The governor must have been as blind as a mole to think Chandos had anything to do with it. It was ever so long before I found out the tops and bottoms of the business; but at last I found one of the juniors could tell something, and I got him by himself and threatened to break every bone in his skin if he didn't shell out all he knew, and then it came out that he had seen Chandos close to the farm-yard just before the animals were turned out, and the miserable little muff had gone with that tale to the governor as soon as the row began.
"But you know it wasn't Chandos," I said, thinking he must have seen Tom too.
"Wasn't it?" said the youngster.
I gave him a shake, and ran off to Chandos, who was just going into the cricket-field. "What's this row about you and the farm-yard, Miss Chandos?" I said.
He seems to be getting used to his name, and only said, "Oh, it's all right now, Stewart."
"Do you know who did turn the things out?" I said.
"Do you?" he asked.
I nodded. "It wasn't you, and I didn't think you knew anything about it. Suspicions go for nothing, you know."
"Well, let this pass. It's over now, and let's drop it."
"But you've been punished for what you had no hand in. Did the governor think you did it?"
"I don't think he believed I actually did it myself; but he said I was worse than those who did it if I was screening them, for I was encouraging insubordination in the school. Do you know who was suspected, Stewart?"
"Me!"
"Yes; I cleared you at once, but I couldn't say any more, and that vexed Dr. Mellor."
"Oh, the Doctor be hanged! Why didn't you go to Tom and tell him the fix you was in? I suppose you knew he did it?"
"I couldn't help knowing it where I was, and I did contrive to say a word to him about going to the Doctor, but—"
"You told Tom you were to be punished for his fault, and he wouldn't make a clean breast of it to the governor!" I said, angrily.
"There, I told you it was better to let it pass, Stewart; you could do no good now," said Chandos, walking away.
But a sudden thought had seized me, and I placed myself in his path. "But you shall give me a plain answer to my question," I said; "not that I will believe it of Tom. It is you that are the sneak; you look one, with your white face and quiet ways, and I know you are only trying to set me against my old chum!" I was almost mad with rage, and longed to knock Chandos down; and for a minute he looked as though he would fight it out, but the next he had pushed me aside, and was striding on to take his place as long-stop in the game that was just beginning. I looked after him for a minute, thinking I would go and have it out, when I suddenly thought of going to Tom, and turned back to the workshop, where Tom was busy hacking at some wood for a rudder. "I say, old fellow, did Chandos tell you he was taking your punishment for the farm-yard scrape?" I asked.
"Oh, never mind Chandos; come and rub down this mast," said Tom, turning away.
"Then—he—did—tell—you!" I said, slowly.
"Didn't you know Chandos was a sneak before to-day?" said Tom, sharply.
"But—but tell me all about it, Tom," I said, rubbing my eyes, and feeling as though I must be dreaming.
"Oh, there ain't much to tell—nothing to make such a fuss about. The fellow came to me, and said he had got into a scrape through the things getting out; but of course I didn't believe him. This was an easy way of getting me into a row, as well as helping himself out."
"But, Tom, if he took your punishment, you know—"
"Bah! my punishment! The governor isn't such a duffer as to think that white-faced milksop did that mischief. He hasn't pluck enough. I always told you he was a sneak, and now he's proved it, for he said the thing should always be a secret between us, whether I told or not, and now he's run open-mouthed to you with the tale."
"No, he hasn't." And without another word I walked out of the workshop. I didn't feel as though I wanted to fight Tom; it didn't seem as though I could fight, for I couldn't understand things a bit. Somehow they'd got so mixed up in this row that Tom seemed to be Chandos, and Chandos Tom, and whether I should wake and find they were all right, or Tom running about with Chandos's head on his shoulders, I couldn't tell for a little while.
But presently Chandos came walking through the gate on which I was mounted, and certainly he had his own straw-coloured hair safe enough. He didn't condescend to look at me as he passed, and I felt as though I hated him for robbing me of Tom. What right had he to do it—he with that white face to be so plucky? And not even for a friend either, for Tom is no friend to him any more than I am, and all the school have adopted our private name, and call him Miss Chandos. It isn't as though he didn't care about it either, for I can see he does. No boy likes to be thought a girl, or have a girl's name tacked to him; and Chandos is like the rest, but he takes it quietly, although I fancy now he would be as good in a stand-up fight as Tom himself.
Bother Tom! I don't want to think about him now. I wish he had left the pigs and cows alone, or I hadn't been in such a fume to find out all about it. I don't like to think he has been mean and cowardly—my brave, bold Tom. Anyhow, I shall always hate Miss Chandos for her share in the matter, and I'll call her Miss Chandos more than ever now. It's been a miserable time, somehow, ever since I heard the tops and bottoms of this row, for though Tom and I have never said a word about it since, we both seem to remember it always, and we keep apart as we never did before.
November 20th.—All the school is in a ferment about a special prize that is to be given for the best essay on something or other. I'm not going to try, so it don't trouble me much; but it seems as though everybody else is, and they can talk of nothing else. Even Tom is going in for this, it seems, though he don't stand much chance, I fancy; but he wants a watch, and thinks he may as well try for this. The weather is dull and cold, and our shipbuilding is almost at a standstill. We haven't done much since that row, and things are altogether miserable. Tom seems to be making new friends among the other fellows, and I've dropped shooting at Miss Chandos and hiding her Bible, so that altogether I'm rather glum, and ready to quarrel with anybody that is good for a stand-up fight. I know everybody thinks me a bear, and I am, I think, for I don't care for anybody or anything now.
November 30th.—It seems as though there was never to be an end to this row, which has made everything so miserable for me. The governor has taken it into his head to consider the matter still unsettled, although Chandos took Tom's punishment, and now poor Chandos has been told that he can't try for this prize. It's the meanest shame, for Chandos stood as good a chance as anybody, if not better than most, and now he isn't to be allowed that chance.
He tries to hide his disappointment, but I know he had begun to read up, and yesterday I asked him if he didn't mean to split on Tom, and tell the governor all about it.
"I wish Haslitt would do it himself," he said; "it would be better for everybody if he did."
"Of course it would; and I'll tell him so, and the governor too, if you won't."
"No, no, don't do that, Stewart; the school would send you to Coventry if you split on another fellow about anything. And besides—"
"Well, what more can the school do?" I asked, angrily.
"Oh, nothing, only your splitting would do no good now, I fancy."
"Well, Tom shall make a clean breast of it, and give up his chance of this prize. It ain't much of a chance for him, and so it won't be much for him to give it up; but you'll get it, Chandos—at least I hope you will;" and then I ran off to find Tom and have it out with him.
I hardly knew how to begin, but I did it somehow; and then Tom said, crossly, "What a fuss you make about nothing! I suppose Miss Chandos has set you on. Has she taught you to say your prayers yet?"
"Saying my prayers has nothing to do with this, Tom, you know that."
"Oh, hasn't it! I thought the young lady was making a milksop of you, you've been so glum, lately."
"Now look here, Tom, I haven't told you what I thought about this sneakish business, but I will if you don't make a clean breast of it to the governor at once."
"Well, who cares what you think?" said Tom, laughing; and he tried to push past me.
But I wasn't going to have that. "Now, look here, old fellow, we have been chums for ever so long, and I never knew you to do anything mean before, and I believe you're sorry for this; now make a clean breast of it, Tom, and let Miss Chandos go in for this prize."
"Has she told you she's sure to get it?"
"No, of course not; but you know she'd stand a good chance—a better chance than you do."
"I don't know so much about that, and I don't see why I should give up my chance just to suit your whims. It wouldn't help Miss Chandos either."
"Yes, it would. The governor wants to get at the bottom of this farmyard affair, and that is why he is so hard on poor Chandos."
"Poor Chandos! The young lady has bewitched you, Charley! As if this had anything to do with that old row! She knows how to come it over you, the mean sneak! As though she didn't know this was for another affair altogether."
"I don't believe it, Tom."
"Don't you? Ask some of the other fellows, then. Here, Jackson, what did you tell me Miss Chandos had been doing to lose her chance of the prize?" called Tom.
"I don't know now. Collins told me it was some artful dodge the governor had found out. Anyhow, I'm glad she's out, for the chances will be pretty evenly balanced among us now; but Chandos always goes in for such a lot of grind that he'd be sure to swamp us all. Do you go in for it, Stewart?" he asked.
"I'm not fond of grind, and shouldn't have a ghost of a chance, any more than Tom has."
"Oh, well, Haslitt will pass muster, I dare say, but we ain't much afraid of him," laughed Jackson, as he ran away.
"I tell you the fellows will kick up no end of a row now if they find I gave up for Chandos to go in; not that I think he would mind. He's a sneak, and has just told you this to hide something he has been doing himself."
"Well, I shouldn't care for what the fellows said, Tom. They want to keep Chandos out—a few of them, I don't believe they all do—just because they will stand a better chance of the prize; and it's mean and cowardly, and I wouldn't help them in it if I were you."
"But I tell you, Charley, you mustn't go against a lot like this. I'm beginning to find out that you must think of others a bit when you are at school like this, and—and—" There Tom stopped.
"Look here, Tom; it may be all very well to mind what other fellows say a bit, but I never knew you to do a mean thing in my life before, and I shall wish we had never come here if it's going to make you a sneak now."
"Who says I am a sneak? Chandos, I suppose?"
"No, it isn't Chandos. He hasn't been your chum as I have; he didn't know what you were before you came to school, and never talks about you—"
"Only to call me a sneak, I suppose?"
"No, he has never called you a sneak; but I do, and mean it, if you won't go to the governor and make a clean breast of everything."
"It would do no good, I tell you, Charley, and the other fellows would be down upon me directly if I did. Three or four are going in for this prize that wouldn't try if Chandos wasn't out. I tell you they'd never forgive me if I split now. I'll promise this, Charley, I'll never get into a scrape like it again. I wish now I'd gone to the governor at once about it."
"I wish you had; but it isn't too late, you know, now, Tom. Come on at once; we shall find him in the library. I'll go with you if you like."
I really thought Tom would go then, but just as we were turning round Jackson ran to tell him Collins and the rest wanted him; and Tom went off, calling to me,
"It's no good, Charley, I can't do it."
I felt half ashamed to meet Chandos after this, for he knew I had been to talk to Tom, and I couldn't bear him to think he was such a sneak as he has been over this; but there was no getting out of it, for he was standing by the lobby door as I went in, and looked at me in such a way that I said, crossly,
"Why don't you go to the governor yourself and tell him all about it?"
"Then Haslitt won't go?"
"No, he won't," I said. "This beastly school has made him a sneak—he never was before; he never served anybody such a trick, and he never would if he hadn't come here."
"Well, don't get so angry about it, Stewart. My mother says one of the principal uses of a school is to try what mettle we are of. We cannot tell whether a character is strong or weak until it has been tried, and the temptations and failures at school prepare us better for the temptations of the world afterwards."
"What do I care about the temptations of the world? It's this school that has spoiled Tom, and he will never be my chum again, and I shall have to look out for another lieutenant for my ship;" and I rushed off indoors, for fear Chandos should say any more, for I could not bear to hear him speak against Tom.