On the evening following O'Hara's adventure in the vaults, Barry andM'Todd were in their study, getting out the tea-things. Most Wrykiniansbrewed in the winter and Easter terms, when the days were short andlock-up early. In the summer term there were other things to do--nets,which lasted till a quarter to seven (when lock-up was), and thebaths--and brewing practically ceased. But just now it was at its height,and every evening, at a quarter past five, there might be heard in thehouses the sizzling of the succulent sausage and other rare delicacies.
As a rule, one or two studies would club together to brew, instead ofpreparing solitary banquets. This was found both more convivial andmore economical. At Seymour's, studies numbers five, six, and seven hadalways combined from time immemorial, and Barry, on obtaining studysix, had carried on the tradition. In study five were Drummond and hisfriend De Bertini. In study seven, which was a smaller room and onlycapable of holding one person with any comfort, one James RupertLeather-Twigg (that was his singular name, as Mr Gilbert has it) hadtaken up his abode. The name of Leather-Twigg having proved, at anearly date in his career, too great a mouthful for Wrykyn, he was knownto his friends and acquaintances by the euphonious title ofShoeblossom. The charm about the genial Shoeblossom was that you couldnever tell what he was going to do next. All that you could rely onwith any certainty was that it would be something which would have beenbetter left undone.
It was just five o'clock when Barry and M'Todd started to get thingsready. They were not high enough up in the school to have fags, so thatthey had to do this for themselves.
Barry was still in football clothes. He had been out running andpassing with the first fifteen. M'Todd, whose idea of exercise waswinding up a watch, had been spending his time since school ceased inthe study with a book. He was in his ordinary clothes. It was thereforefortunate that, when he upset the kettle (he nearly always did at someperiod of the evening's business), the contents spread themselves overBarry, and not over himself. Football clothes will stand any amount ofwater, whereas M'Todd's "Youth's winter suiting at forty-two shillingsand sixpence" might have been injured. Barry, however, did not lookupon the episode in this philosophical light. He spoke to himeloquently for a while, and then sent him downstairs to fetch morewater. While he was away, Drummond and De Bertini came in.
"Hullo," said Drummond, "tea ready?""Not much," replied Barry, bitterly, "not likely to be, either, at thisrate. We'd just got the kettle going when that ass M'Todd plungedagainst the table and upset the lot over my bags. Lucky the beastlystuff wasn't boiling. I'm soaked.""While we wait--the sausages--Yes?--a good idea--M'Todd, he isdownstairs--but to wait? No, no. Let us. Shall we? Is it not so? Yes?"observed Bertie, lucidly.
"Now construe," said Barry, looking at the linguist with a bewilderedexpression. It was a source of no little inconvenience to his friendsthat De Bertini was so very fixed in his determination to speakEnglish. He was a trier all the way, was De Bertini. You rarely caughthim helping out his remarks with the language of his native land. Itwas English or nothing with him. To most of his circle it might as wellhave been Zulu.
Drummond, either through natural genius or because he spent more timewith him, was generally able to act as interpreter. Occasionally therewould come a linguistic effort by which even he freely confessedhimself baffled, and then they would pass on unsatisfied. But, as arule, he was equal to the emergency. He was so now.
"What Bertie means," he explained, "is that it's no good us waiting forM'Todd to come back. He never could fill a kettle in less than tenminutes, and even then he's certain to spill it coming upstairs andhave to go back again. Let's get on with the sausages."The pan had just been placed on the fire when M'Todd returned with thewater. He tripped over the mat as he entered, and spilt about half apint into one of his football boots, which stood inside the door, butthe accident was comparatively trivial, and excited no remark.
"I wonder where that slacker Shoeblossom has got to," said Barry. "Henever turns up in time to do any work. He seems to regard himself as abeastly guest. I wish we could finish the sausages before he comes. Itwould be a sell for him.""Not much chance of that," said Drummond, who was kneeling before thefire and keeping an excited eye on the spluttering pan, "_you_see. He'll come just as we've finished cooking them. I believe the manwaits outside with his ear to the keyhole. Hullo! Stand by with theplate. They'll be done in half a jiffy."Just as the last sausage was deposited in safety on the plate, the dooropened, and Shoeblossom, looking as if he had not brushed his hairsince early childhood, sidled in with an attempt at an easy nonchalancewhich was rendered quite impossible by the hopeless state of hisconscience.
"Ah," he said, "brewing, I see. Can I be of any use?""We've finished years ago," said Barry.
"Ages ago," said M'Todd.
A look of intense alarm appeared on Shoeblosso............