Chapter 32

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_ CHAPTER THIRTY TWO.

A man once said to me that our brains are very much like a bee's honeycomb, all neat little cells, in which all our old recollections are stored up ready for use when we want them. There lie all our adventures and the results of all our studies, everything we have acquired in our lives.

Perhaps he was right--I don't know--I never saw my brains; but, if he is, some of us have got the cells so tightly packed together, and in so disorderly a way, that when we want some special thing which we learned, we cannot find it; it is so covered up, so buried, that it is quite hopeless to try and get at it. This is generally the case with me, and, consequently, there are no end of school adventures during my long stay at "Old Browne's" that I cannot set down here, for the simple reason that I cannot get at them, or, if I do, I find that the cell is crushed and the memory mixed up all in a muddle with wax.

I suppose I did not pack them into the comb properly. Oddly enough, my recollections are clearest about the part of my days which preceded the trouble over the watch.

After that, life seemed to go on at such a rapid rate that there was not time to put all the events away so that they could be found when wanted for further use.

Still, I recall a few things which preceded my leaving the school for Woolwich.

There was that hot June day down by the river--little stream it really was--that ran through a copse about half a mile from the school. It was on Farmer Dawson's land, down in the hollow of the valley, up one side of which lay his big range of hop-gardens.

The Doctor paid him a certain rent for the right of the boys going down to this place, where a great dam had been built up of clay and clinkers. It was not all new, but done up afresh after lying a couple of hundred years or so untouched. All round it, Farmer Dawson used to send his men in the winter to cut down the coppice, trimming the ash and eating chestnut trees down to the stumps to make the young growth into hop-poles; but when the Doctor offered to take it and repair the dam, the hop-poles were left to grow and form a beautiful screen round this dell.

I remember what interest we boys took in it during one winter, when the Doctor had set a lot of men who were out of work to dig and wheel the clinkers and clay, a barrowful of one, and then a barrowful of the other, along the dam; and with old Lomax to give orders, we all marched and counter-marched in our thickest boots over the top of the dam, to trample it all down strong and firm.

You will think, perhaps, that it was easy enough to get clay, and so it was, for a thick bed lay only a few yards from the stream; but what about the clinkers?

I'll tell you. There was quite a mine of them, hard, shiny fragments, some of which had run just like so much black or brown glass.

How did they get there, looking like so much volcanic slag? Why, they were the refuse from a huge iron furnace that used to be in full blast in the days of Queen Elizabeth or King James, and the dam we were repairing, after it had been grown over with trees, and the water reduced to a little stream, belonged to one of the old hammer ponds whose waters were banked up to keep a sufficiency to turn the big wheel that worked the tilt-hammers and perhaps blew the iron furnace till it roared.

For that peaceful rural part of Sussex was in those days a big forest, whose wood was cut down and made into charcoal. The forest is gone, and only represented now by patches of copsewood saved for cutting down every ten years or so for poles; but the iron lies there still in great veins or beds, though it is no longer dug out, the iron of to-day being found and smelted north and west, where coal-pits are handy; and the ironmasters of Sussex, whose culverins and big guns were famous all the world round, have given place to farmers and hop-growers, where grimy men used to tend the glowing metal and send it running into form and mould.

I have mentioned before how there used to be a furnace by Sir Hawkhurst's penstock pond, where the embankment was still firm, but there had been a far more extensive one here, and the refuse went, as I have said, to repair the dam.

When this was done, the Doctor had a long low shed built and thatched and supplied with form-like seats, and a diving-board arranged, beside steps down in the shallow part for the younger boys, and the whole when finished made a glorious long pool of about an acre in extent, very deep by the dam, and sloping gradually up to a few inches only of water where the stream trickled in. And there, on the hot sunny afternoons, beautifully shut in by green waving trees, and with the water when we came to bathe so clear that you could see every stone on the gravelly bottom, we boys used to collect for a regular water frolic. But, as you may suppose, the water was not so clean when we had done, the paddling of the little fellows in the shallows discolouring it from end to end.

That special hot June afternoon cricket had been voted too tiring, and we had all gone down to the bathing-place, the non-swimmers having strict injunctions not to pass a couple of posts about half-way between the stream and the dam.

It was always Lomax's duty to come down with us at bathing times, and, with his walking cane under his arm, he used to stride to and fro along the bank, barking out orders to the lesser boys, who were constantly breaking the rules, and getting toward the deeper water.

By that time I was a pretty fair swimmer, and had got over my natural nervousness to the extent that I was ready to dive off the board into the deepest part, and go anywhere with ease. Mercer was better than I, and Hodson better still; Burr major, from being so long, bony, and thin, was anything, as Mercer used to say, but eely in the water,--puffing and working hard to keep himself afloat; while Dicksee, though naturally able to swim easily from his plumpness, was, I think, the greatest coward we had there.

The water was delightfully warm that afternoon, but it soon got to be very thick, though that did not trouble us in the least, and we were in the full tide of our enjoyment, swimming races, diving, and playing one another tricks, while all the time, sharp and short from the bank, Lomax's orders would be snapped out.

"You, young Jenkins, what did I tell you? Phibbs, you're the wrong side of the posts. Mullins, if I have to speak to you again, I shall report you. Wilson, if you don't go up into the shallows, I shall fetch you out."

"Can't," cried the impudent young dog.

"Then I'll send a big boy to fetch you, sah. How dare you, sah! What do you mean, sah?"

Then there would be the pad, pad, pad, pad of naked feet, as a boy ran along the diving-board, sprang out, and then splash he would be into the water.

And so it went on, with some tiring, and going and sitting in the sun, which played the part of warm towel, till they would come in again, for it was declared to be the most delightful day we had had.

Then Mr Rebble and Mr Hasnip came down to see how we were getting on, and stood cheering and encouraging the timid ones, who were loth to get duckings by learning to swim.

I had been trying for some time, right out in the middle, to float without moving, while Mercer and Hodson in turn had their tries. Burr major was swimming from side to side, blowing like a grampus, and other boys were about us unnoticed, for we were too much occupied over our own efforts to heed them, when all at once, as I lay back with the water nearly all over my face, and my hands right down paddling softly, a wave turned me a little on one side; I raised my head, and a horrible yell sent a cold chill through me.

"What is it? the matter?" cried Mercer.

"Help! help!" shrieked Burr major, who was only a few yards away, splashing the water heavily as he swam with all his might for the side.

But he only shrieked out, "Help! help!" in a horror-stricken voice, and we all swam toward him as he made for the shore, all the lesser boys splashing out as fast as they could, to congregate shivering on the bank.

"What is it? What's the matter?" cried Mr Rebble, hurrying along the path, while Lomax came running round from the other side, for he had crossed the dam to act the part of water shepherd over some of his wet lambs.

But Burr major only kept on shrieking, "Help! help!"

"What's the matter, boys?" cried Mr Hasnip, who was now standing on the bank just where Burr major would land.

"Don't know, sir."

"He's frightened, sir."

"Got the cramp."

This, and half a dozen other replies, came in a confused chorus, as we swam on in a half circle behind Burr major ready to help him if he ceased to swim.

But he was striking out strongly, though his voice grew hoarser and more weak as he neared the edge, where, ghastly-looking and shivering, he snatched at Mr Rebble's hand, and allowed himself to be helped out.

"Don't make that noise, Burr major," cried the master. "What's the matter with you? Speak."

"Gone down--drowning! Oh--oh!"

He said this last in a husky whisper, and with white rings showing round his wide-open eyes, he turned and pointed toward the middle of the great pool.

"Who--who has?" cried Mr Hasnip frantically, and we looked eagerly from one to the other, but no one seemed to be missing.

"Speak, sir. Who is? Where?" cried Mr Rebble, seizing Burr major by his wet shoulders and shaking him. "Don't go on like that. Speak."

But Burr major made one gesticulation, and then his limbs seemed to double up beneath him, as he dropped fainting on the grass.

"What is it? cramp?" cried Lomax, coming up, and taking off his coat. "I'll soon put that right."

"No; he says some one is drowning."

"What?" roared Lomax wildly. "One of my lads! Here, who's missing?"

There was no answer, and the boys all gazed in a frightened way at each other.

"Here, Burr major, rouse up," cried Mr Rebble, shaking the long, thin lad, as he knelt down on one knee. "Who was it? Any one with you?"

The boy's eyes opened a little, he looked up wildly, and, trying to rise, pointed again to the middle of the pool.

"Was--by me," he moaned--"went down."

"Never mind who it is," roared Lomax, literally tearing off his clothes. "Now, boys--divers. In with you!"

His loudly-spoken command acted like magic upon us, and Mercer, Hodson, and I dashed into the water abreast, and swam for the middle of the pool, where in turn we began to dive down and try if we could find our luckless school-fellow, whoever he might be, but without result.

"That's right," cried Lomax, as I came up, for he had joined us in an incredibly short space of time. "Keep trying. This way."

He stretched out his arms, joined his hands as high as he could above his head, so that their weight should help to sink him, and he slowly went down out of sight, while, as fast as our efforts would allow, we boys went down and tried to search about, gradually extending the distance from each other in obedience to the orders shouted to us from the bank.

I suppose it was in ten feet water, about thirty yards from the great embankment, where we dived down most, but our attempts became more feeble, and I found myself at last swimming heavily close to Lomax, whose fierce-looking head suddenly rose close to my hand.

"Does nobody know anything about where the boy went down?" he roared; but there was no answer, and he panted out,--

"Take care of yourselves, boys. Don't overdo it. We must keep on, but it's unkind work."

We dived again and again, till I felt that I could do no more, and once more I was close up to Lomax, who had been down till he was almost completely exhausted.

"Oh, my lad! my lad!" he groaned, as he began to tread water slowly, "I'd have given anything sooner than this should have happened. Here, you, Burr junior, you're spent, boy. Swim ashore."

"I'm not," I said. "I'm going down again."

"I'm done," groaned Lomax. "I seem to have no more strength."

Shouts and orders came from the bank.

"They're saying we don't dive," said Mercer piteously.

"Not diving?" cried Lomax. "Well!"

As he spoke, he sank again, and the water closed in a swirl over his head, while, after taking a long breath, I dived under into the depths, with the water thundering in my ears, as, during what seemed to be a long space of time, though less than a minute, of course, I groped and swam about till a curious sensation of confusion came over me, and, frightened now, I touched something and clung to it wildly, believing in my startled state that it was Lomax.

The next instant I was at the surface, surprised to see the old sergeant making a rush at me, as he uttered a shout. Then he seized something by me, and I knew that I had brought one of my schoolfellows to the surface.

We swam ashore, to reach it soon after Lomax, who had borne the white, limp figure we had rescued into the dressing shed.

"Boys who can run!" shouted Mr Rebble. "Blankets, quick!"

A dozen boys dashed off, and Lomax panted,--

"You two--work him like this--gently. I'll relieve you directly."

He left the two masters rubbing and moving the boy's arms to their full extent, and pressing them to his sides, while he hurried on some clothes, and, shivering with horror and exhaustion, we followed his example, while, with my ears ringing, I heard Mercer gasp out,--

"Poor old Dicksee! Oh, Frank, I hope he ain't drowned."

But as, after our hurried dressing, we saw him lying there rigid and cold, it seemed as if the boy would never say another unkind word to a soul.

By this time Lomax had relieved the two masters, and with all the vigour of his strong arms he was trying to produce artificial respiration somewhat after the fashion that has of late been laid down as a surgical law, but apparently without avail.

The blankets had been brought, the boys, all but we few elder ones, sent back to the school, and a messenger had gone for the nearest medical man, so that nothing more could be done than was in progress.

"I'm afraid it's a hopeless case," said Mr Rebble, with a groan.

"Never say die, sir," cried Lomax. "I remember a lad of ours in my regiment was swept with his horse down the torrent below where we were fording a river away yonder in India. He seemed to be quite gone when we got him ashore half a mile lower down, but we rubbed and worked him about for quite three hours, taking it in turns, before he gave a sign of life. But he opened his eyes at last, and next day he was 'most as well as ever. What time do you expect Doctor Browne back, sir?"

"Not till quite late to-night. And what news for him!--what a shock for them both!"

"Shock!" said Lomax. "Here, you take a turn now, Mr Hasnip; we mustn't stop for a moment."

Mr Hasnip, whose coat was off and sleeves turned up, sprang to his side and went on.

"I'll relieve you again soon, sir," said Lomax, wiping his dripping forehead. "But how was it, Mr Burr major?"

"I--I don't know," said my school-fellow, starting. "I think he suddenly remembered it was so deep, and he turned frightened, for he went under all at once and right down, and then I cried for help."

"Better have lent him a hand," said Lomax gruffly. "Well, Mr Hasnip, sir, feel him coming to?"

"No, no," said the second master dolefully. "He is dead! he is dead!"

"Not he, sir," cried Lomax roughly. "We're going to bring him round; all we've been doing has helped him, and it's a long way off three hours. Here, let's have him out in the sunshine, please. I believe in the sun."

The poor fellow was carried out, the two masters each taking a corner of the blanket on which he lay, Lomax and I the others.

It was quickly done, and then Lomax recommenced rubbing, working the boy's chest so as to make it contract and expand, and all the time with perspiration dropping from his brow. Mr Rebble and Mr Hasnip both relieved him, and we boys did our best to help; but the afternoon glided on, no doctor arrived, and we felt chilled and hopeless, till all at once, after a rest, Lomax had begun again apparently as fresh as ever, and to our horror he suddenly began to whistle a merry tune.

"Lomax!" cried Mr Hasnip.

"What's the matter, sir?"

"For goodness' sake--at a time like this--it is too--"

"Why, haven't I got cause to whistle, sir?" cried the sergeant merrily. "What did I tell you? Only wanted time and plenty o' muscle."

"What! is he reviving?"

"No, sir, he's revived," said Lomax. "Look at the colour coming, and his eyelids quivering. He'll be sitting up directly. Here, you can feel his heart beating now."

Mr Rebble went down on one knee and laid his hand upon Dicksee's breast; then, jumping up again, he caught Lomax by the wrist.

"Heaven bless you for this!" he cried, and Mr Hasnip forgot his dignity as a master, and, taking off his hat, joined us boys in a hearty, "Hip! hip! hip! hooray!" which seemed to give the finishing impetus to our treatment, for Dicksee opened his eyes wide, struggled up into a sitting position, stared about him for a few moments, and then cried, in a harsh, unpleasant tone,--

"Where's my clothes?"

As he spoke, there was the sound of footsteps, and the medical man and the messenger who had been sent to bring him hurried up.

"I'm very sorry," he said. "I was right at the other end of the parish, and had to be fetched. Is this the patient?"

Dicksee had now huddled the blanket round him, and began in a whining, queer way,--

"What's been the matter? What are you all doing? Here, somebody, I want my clothes."

"No occasion to have fetched me," said the surgeon, smiling. "You've brought him round, I see. They're often like this when they've been nearly drowned. Come, squire, can you dress yourself?"

"Yes, if you'll all go away," cried Dicksee in a snarling tone. "Who's a-going to dress with you all a-staring like that?"

"Go into the shed, Dicksee," said Mr Rebble. "Can you walk?"

"Of course, I can, sir;" and he scrambled up.

"Had a long job of course," said the surgeon; and then--"He don't seem very grateful for being brought back to life. Well, gentlemen, there's little to do. Let him go to bed soon, and have a good night's rest. I don't suppose he will be much worse in the morning when I come."

So little seemed to be the matter, that, when he was dressed, Dicksee walked slowly back to the school, Mercer and I following him with Lomax.

"Rum thing," he said, "how crusty the being nearly drowned makes a lad. Hardly worth all the trouble we took over him, eh?"

"Oh, don't talk like that, Lom!" I cried.

"But he was precious disagreeable," cried Mercer; "and after the way in which you saved his life too!"

"I didn't," I said; "it was Lom here."

"Nay, lad, you got hold of him diving, first. If it hadn't been for you, I shouldn't have had anything to rub. But I was thinking."

"What of, Lom?"

"Of how strange it is, lads, that we somehow have to help and do good to them who've always been our enemies. That chap's always hated you, Mr Burr."

"Yes, I'm afraid so, Lomax," I said, with a sigh.

"And so you go into the water, and save his life."

"Yes, 'tis rum," said Mercer. "A nasty, disagreeable beggar. I hate him. But I am glad he wasn't drowned." _

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