George could hardly help sighing as his thoughts flew back to his own dingy cell under "H" staircase.
"Lay another plate, Smith," said Jim, addressing his "gyp"; "and now, old man, make yourself comfortable."
And then the host, in a business-like way, devoted himself to the mysteries of coffee-making and egg-boiling, in the midst of which occupation Clarke and the other Saint George's man arrived.
George felt very miserable on being introduced and devoutly hoped the fellows would have sufficient to converse about among themselves, without it being needful for him to come under observation. This reserve, however, he was not destined to maintain for very long.
"Halliday," said Clarke, "were you in chapel this morning?"
"Yes."
"Well, did you ever hear the organ so grandly played?"
George blushed deeply, half with pleasure at this genuine compliment, and half with nervousness at the turn the talk was taking.
"And it wasn't the regular organist," said Clarke's friend, "for I saw _him_ downstairs."
"No, it's some fellow--plough-boy or stable-boy; or somebody he's got hold of, so I heard. Whoever he is, he knows how to play."
At this point Jim was as red in the face as George, and equally embarra.s.sed.
"Is the fellow at college, do you know?" asked Clarke's friend.
"I believe so, in fact--"
"In fact," broke out Jim, in fear of further awkwardness, "in fact the gentleman you are speaking of is my friend here."
If Clarke and his friend had suddenly been confronted by a tribe of wild Indians they could not have been more taken aback than they were at this announcement. In fact, it was an awkward moment for everybody. n.o.body knew exactly what to say, or which way to look. But a welcome interruption arrived.
My heart beat suddenly as I heard at the bottom of the stairs a sound.
Some one was coming up two steps at a time. Nearer and nearer the light feet came, and my agitation told me whom they brought.
There was a rap at the door, a click on the latch, and then, after all these years, I saw once more my dear first master, Charlie Newcome.
Little he guessed I was so near him!
He had spent the previous day with Jim, and was therefore no stranger in his rooms; indeed, from the moment he entered them, he appeared as much at home there as their own master. He greeted the visitors pleasantly, and then, in the old Randlebury style, demanded if breakfast was anywhere near ready, as he was starving.
He had the beginnings of a fierce moustache, he stood six feet high in his boots, and there was a look of power about him which exceeded even the promise of his Randlebury days. Otherwise he was the same. He had the same clear, honest eyes, the same frank smile, the same merry laugh, for which everyone had loved him then; and as I looked at him and rejoiced, I felt I would give the world to be back in my old place in his pocket.
Jim, as he himself had said, was proud enough of his friend, and no wonder. His arrival, too, at the instant when it occurred, was most opportune, and made him a specially welcome addition to our party, which, including my master, was very soon on the best of terms round the hospitable Jim's table.
"It's not often," said that worthy, "one gets two pairs of deadly enemies eating out of the same dish."
"What's the fellow talking about?" asked Charlie, pa.s.sing up his plate for more steak.
"Well," said Jim, "you and I are, or shall be, deadly enemies to-day, old man."
"Rather," responded Charlie; "so much the worse for you. But where's the other pair?"
"Why, Clarke and Reader."
"I?" exclaimed Clarke, in an alarmed tone. "I hope Mr Reader and I are not at enmity?"
"Oh, yes, you are; don't you know Reader's the fellow in against you for the `Wigram'?" said Jim.
Clarke was astonished. He had been told there was another candidate for the scholarship, who in some quarters was considered a formidable opponent, but he had never fairly realised the fact till now.
"I'm very glad to meet you," said he, courteously, to George, "though I can hardly wish you as much success in your exam, as I dare say you wish yourself."
"I hope I shall not break my heart if I lose," replied George. "Are we the only two in for it?"
And then they fell to talking about their approaching struggle, during which I gave heed to a hurried talk between Charlie and Jim.
"Do you remember Tom Drift?" asked Jim.
Charlie's face at once became serious as he replied, "How could I forget him? What about him?"
"Why," said Jim, "I had a letter from my brother Joe the other day, and he says Tom has altogether gone to the bad. He met him drunk coming out of some slum in Holborn, and followed him for a long time in hopes of being able to speak to him, but the fellow couldn't, or wouldn't recognise him, and only swore. He is living at some disreputable lodging-house--"
"Where?" exclaimed Charlie, excitedly.
"I don't know. Why! what's the matter?"
"Can you find out his address?" asked Charlie.
"I dare say. Why do you want it?"
"Because I must go and see him. Could you find out to-day by telegram?"
"I'll try." Presently he added, "I could never make out why you stuck to the fellow as you did, old man, especially when he turned against you. You're a better man than ever I shall be."
"Nonsense! I promised once to be his friend, that's all. Do send the telegram soon. And now tell me who's the pale man talking to Clarke?"
"A fellow called Reader--one of the cleverest men we've got."
"He looks half-starved!"
"Yes; I'm afraid he's--I mean, I don't think he takes proper care of himself."
"Pity," said Charlie. "I say, old man, this is rare steak! Give us a bit more. What time does the match begin?"
"At two. You old beggar! see if I don't pay off some old scores before the day's over."
"I thought you told me once your people didn't fancy your going in for athletics?"
"No more they do. I expect a stinger by this post; but I shall not open it till after the match. What matches we used to have at Randlebury!"
"Didn't we!"