Peak and
Earwaker were conversing together when Buckland broke in upon them
with genial outburst.
'Confound it, Peak! what do you mean by getting me stuck into a
bracket?'
'I had the same question to as you,' returned the other,
with a grim smile.
Mr. Warricombe came up with extended hand.
'A species of bracket,' he remarked, smiling benevolently,
'which no algebraic process will remove. Let us hope it signifies
that you and Buckland will work through life shoulder to shoulder
in the field of geology. What did Professor Gale give you?'
Before he could reply, Peak had to exchange greetings with Mrs
Warricombe and her daughter. Only once hitherto had he met them.
Six months ago he had gone out with Buckland to the country-house
and passed an afternoon there, making at the time no very
favourable impression on his hostess. He was not of the young men
who easily insinuate themselves into ladies' affections: his
exterior was against him, and he seemed too conscious of his
disadvantages in that particular. Mrs. Warricombe found it
difficult to shape a few civil phrases for the acceptance of the
saturnine student. Sidwell, repelled and in a measure alarmed by
his bilious countenance, could do no more than grant him her
delicately gloved fingers. Peak, for his part, had nothing to say.
He did not even affect an interest in these persons, and turned his
eyes to follow the withdrawing Earwaker. Mr. Warricombe, however,
had found topic for discourse in the prize volume; he began to
comment on the excellence of certain sections of the book.
'Do you go home?' interrupted Buckland, addressing the question
to his rival. 'Or do you stay in Kingsmill until the First
B.A.?'
'I shall go home,' replied Peak, moving uneasily.
'Perhaps we may have the pleasure of seeing you at Thornhaw when
you are up again for the examination?' said Mrs. Warricombe, with
faltering tongue.
'I'm afraid I shan't be able to come, thank you,' was the
awkward response.
Buckland's voice came to the relief.
'I daresay I may look in upon you at your torture. Good luck,
old fellow! If we don't see each other again, write to me at
Trinity before the end of the year.'
As soon as she was sufficiently remote, Mrs. Warricombe
ejaculated in a subdued voice of irritation:
'Such a very unprepossessing young man I never met! He seems to
have no breeding whatever.'
'Overweighted with brains,' replied her husband; adding to
himself, 'and by no means so with money, I fear.'
Opportunity at length offering, Mrs. Warricombe stepped into the
circle irradiated by Bruno Chilvers; her husband and Sidwell
pressed after. Buckland, with an exclamation of disgust, went off
to criticise the hero among a group of his particular friends.
Godwin Peak stood alone. On the bench where he had sat were
heaped the prize volumes (eleven in all, some of them massive), and
his wish was to make arrangements for their removal. Gazing about
him, he became aware of the College librarian, with whom he was on
friendly terms.
'Mr. Poppleton, who would pack and send these books away for
me?'
'An embarras de richesse!' laughed the librarian. 'If you
like to tell the porter to take care of them for the present, I
shall be glad to see that they are sent wherever you like.'
Peak answered with a warmth of acknowledgment which seemed to
imply that he did not often receive kindnesses. Before long he was
free to leave the College, and at the exit he overtook Earwaker,
who carried a brown paper parcel.
'Come and have some tea with me across the way, will you?' said
the literary prizeman. 'I have a couple of hours to wait for my
train.'
'All right. I envy you that five-volume Spenser.'
'I wish they had given me five authors I don't possess instead.
I think I shall sell this.'
Earwaker laughed as he said it—a strange chuckle from deep down
in his throat. A comparison of the young men, as they walked side
by side, showed that Peak was of better physical type than his
comrade. Earwaker had a slight, unshapely body and an ill-fitting
head; he walked with excessive strides and swung his thin arm
nervously. Probably he was the elder of the two, and he looked
twenty. For Peak's disadvantages of person, his studious
bashfulness and poverty of attire were mainly responsible. With
improvement in general health even his features might have a
tolerable comeliness, or at all events would not be disagreeable.
Earwaker's visage was homely, and seemed the more so for his
sprouting moustache and beard.
'Have you heard any talk about Walsh?' the latter inquired, as
they walked on.
Peak shrugged his shoulders, with a laugh.
'No.
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