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Gunpowder Treason and Plot, and Other Stories for Boys

Год написания книги
2017
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"Oh no!" broke in Jarvis. "You get them, Brookfield; and while you're in the shop I'll keep cave at one end of the street, and Perry and Roden can at the other. Get the things done up in three packets, and we can stick them under our jackets."

"All right. And what am I to get?"

The question was one which, on former occasions, had been a difficult one to answer; the proper proportion of rockets, Roman candles, coloured fire, and other combustibles which should be procured to make up a proper display, always needing a good deal of discussion before anything like a satisfactory conclusion could be arrived at. Certain boys had always clamoured for a set piece, while others had yearned to fire shells from a mortar. This year, however, it seemed likely that the display would not be of the kind previously attempted, but would probably be subjected to an abrupt interruption before it had progressed many minutes.

"Get something that will go off easily," said Jarvis – "mostly squibs and crackers, I should say. It's more for the lark of the thing, and to show Chard we don't mean to knuckle under, than for the sake of a show. I should say, get it all over in ten minutes, and hook it. Then there'd be some chance of escaping without being collared."

"There's one other thing," said Brookfield. "Where shall we keep the fireworks when we've got them? It won't do to put them in desks and lockers; they might be seen."

"I'll tell you what," said Roden. "Put them in that chest over there in the corner. It's got nothing in it but dumb-bells, and they won't be touched again before we have drill on Monday."

There was a pause as the four conspirators stood considering whether there was any other matter which it would be well for them to discuss before separating. As they hesitated, somewhere in the darkness there was a slight shuffle.

"Hush! What's that?" whispered Perry.

The exclamation was followed by a patter of feet outside in the playground.

"Some young beggar must have been hiding away here," muttered Jarvis, "and has just bolted. Let's see after him."

"Bother it! He must have heard what we have been talking about. He may let the cat out of the bag."

"No fear," answered Roden. "Every one knows now what's going to happen, and nobody would dare to go and sneak to Chard."

"I hope it wasn't that little rascal Downing," said Brookfield uneasily, as he prepared to return to the schoolroom. "He's such a dirty young toady, always trying to curry favour with Draper or Wills; and of course if it got to their ears, it's as bad as if any one had told old Chard himself."

"Oh, there's no danger of that!" said Jarvis, as the quartet sauntered slowly across the gravel. "Young Downing has too much regard for his own skin to do a thing of that kind. He'd know too well what he might expect. Besides, there's no reason to suppose it was Downing."

"No, only it's just like one of the little wretch's sly, sneaking tricks," answered Brookfield, and so the conversation ended.

As might have been expected, those day boys to whom the project was mentioned displayed no great readiness to take part in the rebellion. Most of them had private celebrations of the Fifth at their own homes, or were invited to assist at similar undertakings at the houses of friends, and for this reason were unwilling to go out of their way to join in a spree which might be followed by serious results. Only one, an arrant duffer nicknamed "Sloper," from some supposed facial resemblance to that popular hero, volunteered to assist, and that in a manner which could scarcely be said to entail any special display of courage.

"Let me know what time it happens," he said, "and I'll come outside, and chuck squibs over the wall."

One boy alone tried to use his influence in such a manner as to prevent the revolt taking place, and he was a senior named John Oliver, who sat next in form order to the head of the school. The conspirators had not taken him into their confidence, feeling pretty certain that he would not approve of the project; but from remarks let fall by one and another, he could form a pretty shrewd guess as to what was intended.

"Look here," he said, encountering Brookfield as the latter stood warming his hands at a coil of hot-water pipes in the hall. "What's all this nonsensical talk about letting off fireworks to-morrow?"

"Who's talking about it?" asked the football captain with a grin.

"Oh, nearly everybody; and they say you're at the head of it all. Don't think I'm such a deaf and blind old moke that I don't know what's going on in the place."

Brookfield liked Oliver, who played full back with him in the team; he might have resented another boy's right to cross-examine him, but Oliver was an old friend, and could never be regarded as strait-laced or a prig.

"Well, what if I am at the head of it? I haven't asked you to join," was the laughing retort.

"Now don't you be a fool, Brooky!" said Oliver earnestly. "There's no sense in it, I tell you. Chard'll be frightfully angry about it. Some of you will get expelled before you've finished, and we can't afford to lose our football captain."

"Oh, don't you fret yourself, old man," was the careless rejoinder. "I know how to take care of myself – of that you may be certain."

The eventful Fifth dawned as any other dull November day might, and by the end of the afternoon all preparations had been made. A good stock of explosives had been obtained and stowed away under an old bit of sacking in the chest with the dumb-bells. Out of the thirty-four boarders, twenty-six had promised to take part in the demonstration, and all had been carefully instructed how to act. As Brookfield explained, only united action on the part of all would prevent vengeance being taken on individuals. It would be impossible for Mr. Chard to expel twenty-six boys in a lump, and an imposition or the loss of a half-holiday would not be too heavy a price to pay for the lark and excitement.

The conspirators were all provided with boxes of fusees. As soon as preparation was ended, the whole body were to rush out to the gymnasium shed in the playground, and there receive their supply of ammunition. A sharp fusillade of squibs and crackers was to be kept up for about ten minutes, at the end of which time the headmaster might be expected to be approaching the scene of action; then the signal would be given to cease fire, and the rebels were to "make tracks" as speedily as possible.

"I know what it'll be," said Brookfield. "He'll ring the bell, and order us to assemble in the schoolroom. Then he'll ask who's been letting off fireworks, and when he does we must all stand up together, and that'll show him we don't mean to be treated like babies in future. There musn't be any shirking; if there is, the fellow will catch it hot, I promise him."

All the twenty-six professed themselves ready to carry out these instructions to the letter; never were champions of liberty in such deadly earnest before.

If there were any whose hearts began to fail them as the appointed hour drew nearer, they gave no outward sign of lessening determination. Some young madcaps, who never counted the cost of a lark, looked forward to the revolt as a huge joke; others, who had more sense, but who had promised to take part in the display, may have been ashamed to draw back at the last moment.

Among the latter, strange to say, might possibly have been numbered the promoter and leading spirit of the whole business. He and Jarvis had slipped out before tea to make sure that the fireworks were safe in the chest.

"I say," he muttered, as they lingered for a moment before returning, "you and I'll catch it hot over this affair."

"How d'you mean?"

"Why, Chard will be sure to drop on us more than on fellows lower down in the school. I shouldn't wonder if he expels us both."

"Well, let him; I don't care," answered Jarvis recklessly. "You've been telling a different tale all along; if you're afraid of the consequences, why in the name of fortune did you ever set the thing going?"

"Oh, I'm not afraid," answered Brookfield with a short laugh. "I only said what he might do, if he chooses to regard us as the ringleaders. By the way, I saw that little rascal Downing talking to Wills this morning. I wish I knew for certain if it was that young beggar who was hiding away here yesterday."

"It seems to me you're getting in a funk already," cried Jarvis. "Buck up! You aren't the sort of chap to lead a forlorn hope. Come on; there's the bell!"

That evening's "prep." seemed the longest that the boys had ever known. Mr. Draper was on duty. He stood three youngsters out for inattention, and reprimanded and cautioned a number of others. Firework displays had already begun in the town; muffled pops and bangs, and the occasional flare of a soaring rocket seen through the neighbouring windows, all served to keep the subdued excitement up to concert pitch. The sound of whispering and the restless shuffling of feet broke the usual stillness of the room, in spite of the sharp demands for silence repeatedly made by the assistant master.

Presently the door opened, and Mr. Chard himself entered the schoolroom. His eye fell on the three luckless urchins standing in the centre aisle, and his brow contracted into a frown.

"What have these boys been doing?" he asked.

"They have been very inattentive," answered Mr. Draper. "In fact, I've been obliged to say I should keep the whole assembly for an extra half-hour unless they did more work."

Something seemed to have ruffled the headmaster's temper.

"I suppose this is owing to the decision I came to about the fireworks," he said sharply. "If so, let it be clearly understood I won't stand any insubordination of that kind. Go on with your work at once. If I find to-morrow that any boy has been wilfully idle and inattentive, I shall punish him severely."

Slowly the hands of the clock crept round the dial; then at last they stood at half-past eight.

It was with a more than usually audible sigh of relief that the boys obeyed Mr. Draper's order to put away their books; and now came the crucial moment, thoughts of which had been in nearly every one's mind for the last three days.

Brookfield did not hesitate. Having gained the passage, he produced his cap from his pocket, and ran straight out into the playground. He was closely followed by Jarvis, Roden, and Perry, and behind them came a straggling line of dark forms. It was not a good night for fireworks, for the moon was shining, but its light enabled Brookfield to see and marshal his followers.

Half-way across the playground he stopped.

"Hullo!" he cried in a low tone. "This isn't all. Where are the others?"

Only eight boys had turned out in addition to those whose names have been mentioned, so that the whole party numbered a round dozen. Where were the twenty-six?

"Where are the others?" repeated the leader, as the stragglers, breathing hard with excitement, came up and formed round him in a group.
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