insulted beings can alone endure.
One of these creatures must not be forgotten; his name was Mallett; he was a perfect specimen of the genuine usher. The monster wore a black coat and waistcoat; the residue of his costume was of that mysterious colour known by the name of pepper-and-salt. He was a pallid wretch with a pug nose, white teeth, and marked with the small-pox: long, greasy, black hair, and small black, beady eyes. This daemon watched the progress of the theatrical company with eyes gloating with vengeance. No attempt had been made to keep the fact of the rehearsal a secret from the police; no objection, on their part, had as yet been made; the twelve weeks diminished to six; Ranger had secretly ordered a dress from town, and was to get a steel-handled sword from Fentum’s for Jack Maggot; and everything was proceeding with delightful success, when one morning, as Mr. Dallas was apparently about to take his departure, with a volume of Becker’s Thucydides under his arm, the respected Dominie stopped, and thus harangued: “I am informed that a great deal is going on in this family with which it is intended that I shall be kept unacquainted. It is not my intention to name anybody or anything at present; but I must say that of late the temper of this family has sadly changed. Whether there be any seditious stranger among you or not, I shall not at present even endeavour to discover; but I will warn my old friends of their new ones:” and so saying, the Dominie withdrew.
All eyes were immediately fixed on Vivian, and the faces of the Classics were triumphant with smiles; those of the manager’s particular friends, the Romantics, we may call them, were clouded; but who shall describe the countenance of Mallett? In a moment the school broke up with an agitated and tumultuous uproar. “No stranger!” shouted St. Leger Smith; “no stranger!” vociferated a prepared gang. Vivian’s friends were silent, for they hesitated to accept for their leader the insulting title. Those who were neither Vivian’s friends nor in the secret, weak creatures who side always with the strongest, immediately swelled the insulting chorus of Mr. St. Leger Smith. That worthy, emboldened by his success and the smiles of Mallett, contained himself no longer: “Down with the manager!” he cried. His satellites chorussed. But now Vivian rushed forward. “Mr. Smith, I thank you for being so definite; take that!” and he struck Smith with such force that the Cleon staggered and fell; but Smith instantly recovered, and a ring was instantly formed. To a common observer, the combatants were unequally matched; for Smith was a burly, big-limbed animal, alike superior to Grey in years and strength. But Vivian, though delicate in frame and more youthful, was full his match in spirit, and, thanks to being a Cockney! ten times his match in science. He had not built a white great coat or drunk blue ruin at Ben Burn’s for nothing!
Oh! how beautifully he fought! how admirably straight he hit! and his stops quick as lightning! and his followings up confounding his adversary with their painful celerity! Smith alike puzzled and punished, yet proud in his strength, hit round, and wild, and false, and foamed like a furious elephant. For ten successive rounds the result was dubious; but in the eleventh the strength of Smith began to fail him, and the men were more fairly matched. “Go it, Ranger! go it, Ranger!” halloed the Greyites; “No stranger! no stranger!” eagerly bawled the more numerous party. “Smith’s floored, by Jove!” exclaimed Poynings, who was Grey’s second. “At it again! at it again!” exclaimed all. And now, when Smith must certainly have given in, suddenly stepped forward Mr. Mallett, accompanied by—Dallas!
“How, Mr. Grey! No answer, sir; I understand that you have always an answer ready. I do not quote Scripture lightly, Mr. Grey; but ‘Take heed that you offend not, even with your tongue.’ Now, sir, to your room.”
When Vivian Grey again joined his companions, he found himself almost universally shunned. Etherege and Poynings were the only individuals who met him with their former frankness.
“A horrible row, Grey,” said the latter. “After you went, the Doctor harangued the whole school, and swears you have seduced and ruined us all; everything was happiness until you came, &c. Mallett is of course at the bottom of the whole business: but what can we do? Dallas says you have the tongue of a serpent, and that he will not trust himself to hear your defence. Infamous shame! I swear! And now every fellow has got a story against you: some say you are a dandy, others want to know whether the next piece performed at your theatre will be ‘The Stranger;’ as for myself and Etherege, we shall leave in a few weeks, and it does not signify to us; but what the devil you’re to do next half, by Jove, I can’t say. If I were you, I would not return.”
“Not return, eh! but that will I, though; and we shall see who, in future, can complain of the sweetness of my voice! Ungrateful fools!”
CHAPTER V
The Vacation was over, and Vivian returned to Burnsley Vicarage. He bowed cavalierly to Mr. Dallas on his arrival, and immediately sauntered up into the school-room, where he found a tolerable quantity of wretches looking as miserable as schoolboys who have left their pleasant homes generally do for some four-and-twenty hours. “How d’ye do, Grey? How d’ye do, Grey?” burst from a knot of unhappy fellows, who would have felt quite delighted had their newly arrived co-mate condescended to entertain them, as usual, with some capital good story fresh from town. But they were disappointed.
“We can make room for you at the fire, Grey,” said Theophilus
“I thank you, I am not cold.”
“I suppose you know that Poynings and Etherege don’t come back, Grey?”
“Everybody knew that last half:” and so he walked on.
“Grey, Grey!” halloed King, “don’t go into the dining-room; Mallett is there alone, and told us not to disturb him. By Jove, the fellow is going in: there will be a greater row this half between Grey and Mallett than ever.”
Days, the heavy first days of the half, rolled on, and all the citizens of the little commonwealth had returned.
“What a dull half this will be!” said Eardley; “how one misses Grey’s set! After all, they kept the school alive: Poynings was a first-rate fellow, and Etherege so deuced good-natured! I wonder whom Grey will crony with this half; have you seen him and Dallas speak together yet? He cut the Doctor quite dead at Greek to-day.”
“Why, Eardley! Eardley! there is Grey walking round playing fields with Mallett!” halloed a sawney who was killing the half-holiday by looking out of the window.
“The devil! I say, Matthews, whose flute is that? It is a devilish handsome one!”
“It’s Grey’s! I clean it for him,” squeaked a little boy. “He gives me sixpence a week!”
“Oh, you sneak!” said one.
“Cut him over!”
“Roast him!” cried a third.
“To whom are you going to take the flute?” asked a fourth.
“To Mallett,” squeaked the little fellow. “Grey lends his flute to Mallett every day.”
“Grey lends his flute to Mallett! The deuce he does! So Grey and Mallett are going to crony!”
A wild exclamation burst forth from the little party; and away each of them ran, to spread in all directions the astounding intelligence.
If the rule of the ushers had hitherto been light at Burnsley Vicarage, its character was materially changed during this half-year. The vexatious and tyrannical influence of Mallett was now experienced in all directions, meeting and interfering with the comforts of the boys in every possible manner. His malice was accompanied, too, by a tact which could not have been expected from his vulgar mind, and which, at the same time, could not have been produced by the experience of one in his situation. It was quite evident to the whole community that his conduct was dictated by another mind, and that that mind was one versed in all the secrets of a school-boy’s life, and acquainted with all the workings of a school-boy’s mind: a species of knowledge which no pedagogue in the world ever yet attained. There was no difficulty in discovering whose was the power behind the throne. Vivian Grey was the perpetual companion of Mallett in his walks, and even in the school; he shunned also the converse of every one of the boys, and did not affect to conceal that his quarrel was universal. Superior power, exercised by a superior mind, was for a long time more than a match