Humor
Read books online » Humor » Mike by Pelham Grenville Wodehouse (dar e dil novel online reading .TXT) 📖

Book online «Mike by Pelham Grenville Wodehouse (dar e dil novel online reading .TXT) 📖». Author Pelham Grenville Wodehouse



1 ... 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 ... 58
Go to page:
an end to it. It was with a comfortable

feeling of magnanimity that he resolved not to report the breach of

discipline to the headmaster. Wyatt should not be expelled. But he

should leave, and that immediately. He would write to the bank before

he went to bed, asking them to receive his step-son at once; and the

letter should go by the first post next day. The discipline of the

bank would be salutary and steadying. And—this was a particularly

grateful reflection—a fortnight annually was the limit of the holiday

allowed by the management to its junior employees.

 

Mr. Wain had arrived at this conclusion, and was beginning to feel a

little cramped, when Mike Jackson suddenly sat up.

 

“Hullo!” said Mike.

 

“Go to sleep, Jackson, immediately,” snapped the housemaster.

 

Mike had often heard and read of people’s hearts leaping to their

mouths, but he had never before experienced that sensation of

something hot and dry springing in the throat, which is what really

happens to us on receipt of a bad shock. A sickening feeling that the

game was up beyond all hope of salvation came to him. He lay down

again without a word.

 

What a frightful thing to happen! How on earth had this come about?

What in the world had brought Wain to the dormitory at that hour? Poor

old Wyatt! If it had upset him (Mike) to see the housemaster

in the room, what would be the effect of such a sight on Wyatt,

returning from the revels at Neville-Smith’s!

 

And what could he do? Nothing. There was literally no way out. His

mind went back to the night when he had saved Wyatt by a brilliant

coup. The most brilliant of coups could effect nothing now.

Absolutely and entirely the game was up.

 

*

 

Every minute that passed seemed like an hour to Mike. Dead silence

reigned in the dormitory, broken every now and then by the creak of

the other bed, as the housemaster shifted his position. Twelve boomed

across the field from the school clock. Mike could not help thinking

what a perfect night it must be for him to be able to hear the strokes

so plainly. He strained his ears for any indication of Wyatt’s

approach, but could hear nothing. Then a very faint scraping noise

broke the stillness, and presently the patch of moonlight on the floor

was darkened.

 

At that moment Mr. Wain relit his candle.

 

The unexpected glare took Wyatt momentarily aback. Mike saw him start.

Then he seemed to recover himself. In a calm and leisurely manner he

climbed into the room.

 

“James!” said Mr. Wain. His voice sounded ominously hollow.

 

Wyatt dusted his knees, and rubbed his hands together. “Hullo, is that

you, father!” he said pleasantly.

CHAPTER XXV

MARCHING ORDERS

 

A silence followed. To Mike, lying in bed, holding his breath, it

seemed a long silence. As a matter of fact it lasted for perhaps ten

seconds. Then Mr. Wain spoke.

 

“You have been out, James?”

 

It is curious how in the more dramatic moments of life the inane

remark is the first that comes to us.

 

“Yes, sir,” said Wyatt.

 

“I am astonished. Exceedingly astonished.”

 

“I got a bit of a start myself,” said Wyatt.

 

“I shall talk to you in my study. Follow me there.”

 

“Yes, sir.”

 

He left the room, and Wyatt suddenly began to chuckle.

 

“I say, Wyatt!” said Mike, completely thrown off his balance by the

events of the night.

 

Wyatt continued to giggle helplessly. He flung himself down on his

bed, rolling with laughter. Mike began to get alarmed.

 

“It’s all right,” said Wyatt at last, speaking with difficulty. “But,

I say, how long had he been sitting there?”

 

“It seemed hours. About an hour, I suppose, really.”

 

“It’s the funniest thing I’ve ever struck. Me sweating to get in

quietly, and all the time him camping out on my bed!”

 

“But look here, what’ll happen?”

 

Wyatt sat up.

 

“That reminds me. Suppose I’d better go down.”

 

“What’ll he do, do you think?”

 

“Ah, now, what!”

 

“But, I say, it’s awful. What’ll happen?”

 

“That’s for him to decide. Speaking at a venture, I should say–-”

 

“You don’t think–-?”

 

“The boot. The swift and sudden boot. I shall be sorry to part with

you, but I’m afraid it’s a case of ‘Au revoir, my little Hyacinth.’ We

shall meet at Philippi. This is my Moscow. To-morrow I shall go out

into the night with one long, choking sob. Years hence a white-haired

bank-clerk will tap at your door when you’re a prosperous professional

cricketer with your photograph in Wisden. That’ll be me. Well,

I suppose I’d better go down. We’d better all get to bed some

time to-night. Don’t go to sleep.”

 

“Not likely.”

 

“I’ll tell you all the latest news when I come back. Where are me

slippers? Ha, ‘tis well! Lead on, then, minions. I follow.”

 

*

 

In the study Mr. Wain was fumbling restlessly with his papers when

Wyatt appeared.

 

“Sit down, James,” he said.

 

Wyatt sat down. One of his slippers fell off with a clatter. Mr. Wain

jumped nervously.

 

“Only my slipper,” explained Wyatt. “It slipped.”

 

Mr. Wain took up a pen, and began to tap the table.

 

“Well, James?”

 

Wyatt said nothing.

 

“I should be glad to hear your explanation of this disgraceful

matter.”

 

“The fact is–-” said Wyatt.

 

“Well?”

 

“I haven’t one, sir.”

 

“What were you doing out of your dormitory, out of the house, at that

hour?”

 

“I went for a walk, sir.”

 

“And, may I inquire, are you in the habit of violating the strictest

school rules by absenting yourself from the house during the night?”

 

“Yes, sir.”

 

“What?”

 

“Yes, sir.”

 

“This is an exceedingly serious matter.”

 

Wyatt nodded agreement with this view.

 

“Exceedingly.”

 

The pen rose and fell with the rapidity of the cylinder of a

motorcar. Wyatt, watching it, became suddenly aware that the

thing was hypnotising him. In a minute or two he would be asleep.

 

“I wish you wouldn’t do that, father. Tap like that, I mean. It’s

sending me to sleep.”

 

“James!”

 

“It’s like a woodpecker.”

 

“Studied impertinence–-”

 

“I’m very sorry. Only it was sending me off.”

 

Mr. Wain suspended tapping operations, and resumed the thread of his

discourse.

 

“I am sorry, exceedingly, to see this attitude in you, James. It is

not fitting. It is in keeping with your behaviour throughout. Your

conduct has been lax and reckless in the extreme. It is possible that

you imagine that the peculiar circumstances of our relationship secure

you from the penalties to which the ordinary boy–-”

 

“No, sir.”

 

“I need hardly say,” continued Mr. Wain, ignoring the interruption,

“that I shall treat you exactly as I should treat any other member of

my house whom I had detected in the same misdemeanour.”

 

“Of course,” said Wyatt, approvingly.

 

“I must ask you not to interrupt me when I am speaking to you, James.

I say that your punishment will be no whit less severe than would be

that of any other boy. You have repeatedly proved yourself lacking in

ballast and a respect for discipline in smaller ways, but this is a

far more serious matter. Exceedingly so. It is impossible for me to

overlook it, even were I disposed to do so. You are aware of the

penalty for such an action as yours?”

 

“The sack,” said Wyatt laconically.

 

“It is expulsion. You must leave the school. At once.”

 

Wyatt nodded.

 

“As you know, I have already secured a nomination for you in the

London and Oriental Bank. I shall write to-morrow to the manager

asking him to receive you at once–-”

 

“After all, they only gain an extra fortnight of me.”

 

“You will leave directly I receive his letter. I shall arrange with

the headmaster that you are withdrawn privately–-”

 

Not the sack?”

 

“Withdrawn privately. You will not go to school to-morrow. Do you

understand? That is all. Have you anything to say?”

 

Wyatt reflected.

 

“No, I don’t think–-”

 

His eye fell on a tray bearing a decanter and a syphon.

 

“Oh, yes,” he said. “Can’t I mix you a whisky and soda, father, before

I go off to bed?”

 

*

 

“Well?” said Mike.

 

Wyatt kicked off his slippers, and began to undress.

 

“What happened?”

 

“We chatted.”

 

“Has he let you off?”

 

“Like a gun. I shoot off almost immediately. To-morrow I take a

well-earned rest away from school, and the day after I become the

gay young bank-clerk, all amongst the ink and ledgers.”

 

Mike was miserably silent.

 

“Buck up,” said Wyatt cheerfully. “It would have happened anyhow in

another fortnight. So why worry?”

 

Mike was still silent. The reflection was doubtless philosophic, but

it failed to comfort him.

CHAPTER XXVI

THE AFTERMATH

 

Bad news spreads quickly. By the quarter to eleven interval next day

the facts concerning Wyatt and Mr. Wain were public property. Mike, as

an actual spectator of the drama, was in great request as an

informant. As he told the story to a group of sympathisers outside the

school shop, Burgess came up, his eyes rolling in a fine frenzy.

 

“Anybody seen young—oh, here you are. What’s all this about Jimmy

Wyatt? They’re saying he’s been sacked, or some rot.”

 

[Illustration: “WHAT’S ALL THIS ABOUT JIMMY WYATT?”]

 

“So he has—at least, he’s got to leave.”

 

“What? When?”

 

“He’s left already. He isn’t coming to school again.”

 

Burgess’s first thought, as befitted a good cricket captain, was for

his team.

 

“And the Ripton match on Saturday!”

 

Nobody seemed to have anything except silent sympathy at his command.

 

“Dash the man! Silly ass! What did he want to do it for! Poor old

Jimmy, though!” he added after a pause. “What rot for him!”

 

“Beastly,” agreed Mike.

 

“All the same,” continued Burgess, with a return to the austere manner

of the captain of cricket, “he might have chucked playing the goat

till after the Ripton match. Look here, young Jackson, you’ll turn out

for fielding with the first this afternoon. You’ll play on Saturday.”

 

“All right,” said Mike, without enthusiasm. The Wyatt disaster was too

recent for him to feel much pleasure at playing against Ripton

vice his friend, withdrawn.

 

Bob was the next to interview him. They met in the cloisters.

 

“Hullo, Mike!” said Bob. “I say, what’s all this about Wyatt?”

 

“Wain caught him getting back into the dorm. last night after

Neville-Smith’s, and he’s taken him away from the school.”

 

“What’s he going to do? Going into that bank straight away?”

 

“Yes. You know, that’s the part he bars most. He’d have been leaving

anyhow in a fortnight, you see; only it’s awful rot for a chap like

Wyatt to have to go and froust in a bank for the rest of his life.”

 

“He’ll find it rather a change, I expect. I suppose you won’t be

seeing him before he goes?”

 

“I shouldn’t think so. Not unless he comes to the dorm. during the

night. He’s sleeping over in Wain’s part of the house, but I shouldn’t

be surprised if he nipped out after Wain has gone to bed. Hope he

does, anyway.”

1 ... 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 ... 58
Go to page:

Free ebook «Mike by Pelham Grenville Wodehouse (dar e dil novel online reading .TXT) 📖» - read online now

Comments (0)

There are no comments yet. You can be the first!
Add a comment