the unbearable bassington-第4章

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〃Nonsense；　boys　are　Nature's　raw　material。〃



〃Millions　of　boys　are。　　There　are　just　a　few；　and　Bassington　is　one　

of　them；　who　are　Nature's　highly　finished　product　when　they　are　in　

the　schoolboy　stage；　and　we；　who　are　supposed　to　be　moulding　raw　

material；　are　quite　helpless　when　we　come　in　contact　with　them。〃



〃But　what　happens　to　them　when　they　grow　up？〃



〃They　never　do　grow　up；〃　said　the　housemaster；　〃that　is　their　

tragedy。　　Bassington　will　certainly　never　grow　out　of　his　present　

stage。〃



〃Now　you　are　talking　in　the　language　of　Peter　Pan；〃　said　the　form…

master。



〃I　am　not　thinking　in　the　manner　of　Peter　Pan；〃　said　the　other。　　

〃With　all　reverence　for　the　author　of　that　masterpiece　I　should　say　

he　had　a　wonderful　and　tender　insight　into　the　child　mind　and　knew　

nothing　whatever　about　boys。　　To　make　only　one　criticism　on　that　

particular　work；　can　you　imagine　a　lot　of　British　boys；　or　boys　of　

any　country　that　one　knows　of；　who　would　stay　contentedly　playing　

children's　games　in　an　underground　cave　when　there　were　wolves　and　

pirates　and　Red　Indians　to　be　had　for　the　asking　on　the　other　side　

of　the　trap　door？〃



The　form…master　laughed。　　〃You　evidently　think　that　the　'Boy　who　

would　not　grow　up'　must　have　been　written　by　a　'grown…up　who　could　

never　have　been　a　boy。'　　Perhaps　that　is　the　meaning　of　the　'Never…

never　Land。'　　I　daresay　you're　right　in　your　criticism；　but　I　don't　

agree　with　you　about　Bassington。　　He's　a　handful　to　deal　with；　as　

anyone　knows　who　has　come　in　contact　with　him；　but　if　one's　hands　

weren't　full　with　a　thousand　and　one　other　things　I　hold　to　my　

opinion　that　he　could　be　tamed。〃



And　he　went　his　way；　having　maintained　a　form…master's　inalienable　

privilege　of　being　in　the　right。



*　*　*　*　*



In　the　prefects'　room；　Comus　busied　himself　with　the　exact　position　

of　a　chair　planted　out　in　the　middle　of　the　floor。



〃I　think　everything's　ready；〃　he　said。



Rutley　glanced　at　the　clock　with　the　air　of　a　Roman　elegant　in　the　

Circus；　languidly　awaiting　the　introduction　of　an　expected　

Christian　to　an　expectant　tiger。



〃The　kid　is　due　in　two　minutes；〃　he　said。



〃He'd　jolly　well　better　not　be　late；〃　said　Comus。



Comus　had　gone　through　the　mill　of　many　scorching　castigations　in　

his　earlier　school　days；　and　was　able　to　appreciate　to　the　last　

ounce　the　panic　that　must　be　now　possessing　his　foredoomed　victim；　

probably　at　this　moment　hovering　miserably　outside　the　door。　　After　

all；　that　was　part　of　the　fun　of　the　thing；　and　most　things　have　

their　amusing　side　if　one　knows　where　to　look　for　it。



There　was　a　knock　at　the　door；　and　Lancelot　entered　in　response　to　

a　hearty　friendly　summons　to　〃come　in。〃



〃I've　come　to　be　caned；〃　he　said　breathlessly；　adding　by　way　of　

identification；　〃my　name's　Chetrof。〃



〃That's　quite　bad　enough　in　itself；〃　said　Comus；　〃but　there　is　

probably　worse　to　follow。　　You　are　evidently　keeping　something　back　

from　us。〃



〃I　missed　a　footer　practice；〃　said　Lancelot



〃Six；〃　said　Comus　briefly；　picking　up　his　cane。



〃I　didn't　see　the　notice　on　the　board；〃　hazarded　Lancelot　as　a　

forlorn　hope。



〃We　are　always　pleased　to　listen　to　excuses；　and　our　charge　is　two　

extra　cuts。　　That　will　be　eight。　　Get　over。〃



And　Comus　indicated　the　chair　that　stood　in　sinister　isolation　in　

the　middle　of　the　room。　　Never　had　an　article　of　furniture　seemed　

more　hateful　in　Lancelot's　eyes。　　Comus　could　well　remember　the　

time　when　a　chair　stuck　in　the　middle　of　a　room　had　seemed　to　him　

the　most　horrible　of　manufactured　things。



〃Lend　me　a　piece　of　chalk；〃　he　said　to　his　brother　prefect。



Lancelot　ruefully　recognised　the　truth　of　the　chalk…line　story。



Comus　drew　the　desired　line　with　an　anxious　exactitude　which　he　

would　have　scorned　to　apply　to　a　diagram　of　Euclid　or　a　map　of　the　

Russo…Persian　frontier。



〃Bend　a　little　more　forward；〃　he　said　to　the　victim；　〃and　much　

tighter。　　Don't　trouble　to　look　pleasant；　because　I　can't　see　your　

face　anyway。　　It　may　sound　unorthodox　to　say　so；　but　this　is　going　

to　hurt　you　much　more　than　it　will　hurt　me。〃



There　was　a　carefully　measured　pause；　and　then　Lancelot　was　made　

vividly　aware　of　what　a　good　cane　can　be　made　to　do　in　really　

efficient　hands。　　At　the　second　cut　he　projected　himself　hurriedly　

off　the　chair。



〃Now　I've　lost　count；〃　said　Comus；　〃we　shall　have　to　begin　all　over　

again。　　Kindly　get　back　into　the　same　position。　　If　you　get　down　

again　before　I've　finished　Rutley　will　hold　you　over　and　you'll　get　

a　dozen。〃



Lancelot　got　back　on　to　the　chair；　and　was　re…arranged　to　the　taste　

of　his　executioner。　　He　stayed　there　somehow　or　other　while　Comus　

made　eight　accurate　and　agonisingly　effective　shots　at　the　chalk　

line。



〃By　the　way；〃　he　said　to　his　gasping　and　gulping　victim　when　the　

infliction　was　over；　〃you　said　Chetrof；　didn't　you？　　I　believe　I've　

been　asked　to　be　kind　to　you。　　As　a　beginning　you　can　clean　out　my　

study　this　afternoon。　　Be　awfully　careful　how　you　dust　the　old　

china。　　If　you　break　any　don't　come　and　tell　me　but　just　go　and　

drown　yourself　somewhere；　it　will　save　you　from　a　worse　fate。〃



〃I　don't　know　where　your　study　is；〃　said　Lancelot　between　his　

chokes。



〃You'd　better　find　it　or　I　shall　have　to　beat　you；　really　hard　this　

time。　　Here；　you'd　better　keep　this　chalk　in　your　pocket；　it's　sure　

to　come　in　handy　later　on。　　Don't　stop　to　thank　me　for　all　I've　

done；　it　only　embarrasses　me。〃



As　Comus　hadn't　got　a　study　Lancelot　spent　a　feverish　half…hour　in　

looking　for　it；　incidentally　missing　another　footer　practice。



〃Everything　is　very　jolly　here；〃　wrote　Lancelot　to　his　sister　

Emmeline。　　〃The　prefects　can　give　you　an　awful　hot　time　if　they　

like；　but　most　of　them　are　rather　decent。　　Some　are　Beasts。　　

Bassington　is　a　prefect　though　only　a　junior　one。　　He　is　the　Limit　

as　Beasts　go。　　At　least　I　think　so。〃



Schoolboy　reticence　went　no　further；　but　Emmeline　filled　in　the　

gaps　for　herself　with　the　lavish　splendour　of　feminine　imagination。　　

Francesca's　bridge　went　crashing　into　the　abyss。







CHAPTER　III







ON　the　evening　of　a　certain　November　day；　two　years　after　the　

events　heretofore　chronicled；　Francesca　Bassington　steered　her　way　

through　the　crowd　that　filled　the　rooms　of　her　friend　Serena　

Golackly；　bestowing　nods　of　vague　recognition　as　she　went；　but　with　

eyes　that　were　obviously　intent　on　focussing　one　particular　figure。　　

Parliament　had　pulled　its　energies　together　for　an　Autumn　Session；　

and　both　political　Parties　were　fairly　well　represented　in　the　

throng。　　Serena　had　a　harmless　way　of　inviting　a　number　of　more　or　

less　public　men　and　women　to　her　house；　and　hoping　that　if　you　left　

them　together　long　enough　they　would　constitute　a　SALON。　　In　

pursuance　of　the　same　instinct　she　planted　the　flower　borders　at　

her　week…end　cottage　retreat　in　Surrey　with　a　large　mixture　of　

bulbs；　and　called　the　result　a　Dutch　garden。　　Unfortunately；　though　

you　may　bring　brilliant　talkers　into　your　home；　you　cannot　always　

make　them　talk　brilliantly；　or　even　talk　at　all；　what　is　worse　you　

cannot　restrict　the　output　of　those　starling…voiced　dullards　who　

seem　to　have；　on　all　subjects；　so　much　to　say　that　was　well　worth　

leaving　unsaid。　　One　group　that　Francesca　passed　was　discussing　a　

Spanish　painter；　who　was　forty…three；　and　had　painted　thousands　of　

square　yards　of　canvas　in　his　time；　but　of　whom　no　one　in　London　

had　heard　till　a　few　months　ago；　now　the　starling…voices　seemed　

determined　that　one　should　hear　of　very　little　else。　　Three　women　

knew　how　his　name　was　pronounced；　another　always　felt　that　she　must　

go　into　a　forest　and　pray　whenever　she　saw　his　pictures；　another　

had　noticed　that　there　were　always　pomegranates　in　his　later　

compositions；　and　a　man　with　an　indefensible　collar　knew　what　the　

pomegranates　〃meant。〃　　〃Wha