The Weathercock | Page 9

contempt.

"Because I'm not Vane, sir, and--"
"I say, old chaps, don't, please don't," cried Macey, earnestly. "Look
here; I've got a tip from home by this morning's post, and I'll be a good
feed to set all square. Come: that's enough." Then, imitating the rector's
thick, unctuous voice, "Hum--ha!--silence, gentlemen, if you please."
"Silence yourself, buffoon!" retorted Distin, sharply, and poor Macey
sank down in his chair, startled, or assuming to be.
"No, Mr Gilmore," said Distin, haughtily, "you are not Vane Lee, you
said, and--and what?"
"I'll tell you," cried the lad, with his brow lowering. "I will not sit still
and let you bully me. He may not think it worth his while to hit out at a
foreign-bred fellow who snaps and snarls like an angry dog, but I do;
and if you speak to me again as you did just now, I'll show you how
English-bred fellows behave. I'll punch your head."
"No, you will not, Gil," said Vane, half rising in his seat. "I don't want
to quarrel, but if there must be one, it's mine. So look here, Distin:
you've done everything you could for months past to put me out of
temper."
"He--aw!--he--aw!" cried Macey, in parliamentary style.
"Be quiet, jackass," cried Distin; and Macey began to lower himself, in
much dread, under the table.
"I say," continued Vane, "you have done everything you could to put
me out of temper, and I've put up with it patiently, and behaved like a
coward."
"He--aw, he--aw!" said Macey again; and Vane shook his fist at him
good-humouredly.
"Amen. That's all, then," cried Macey; and then, imitating the rector
again, "Now, gentlemen, let us resume our studies."

"Be quiet, Aleck," said Gilmore, angrily; "I--"
He did not go on, for he saw Distin's hand stealing toward a heavy
dictionary, and, at that moment, Vane said firmly:--
"I felt it was time to show you that I am not quite a coward. I did mean
it as an insult, as you call it. What then?"
"That!" cried Distin, hurling the dictionary he had picked up with all
his might at his fellow-pupil, across the table, but without effect. Vane,
like most manly British lads, knew how to take care of himself, and a
quick movement to one side was sufficient to allow the big book to
pass close to his ear, and strike with a heavy bang against the door
panel just as the handle rattled, and a loud "Hum--ha!" told that the
rector was coming into the room for the morning's reading.
CHAPTER FOUR.
MARTHA'S MISTAKE.
As quickly as if he were fielding a ball, Vane caught up the volume
from where it fell, and was half-way back to his seat as the rector came
in, looking very much astonished, partly at the noise of the thump on
the door, partly from an idea that the dictionary had been thrown as an
insult to him.
Macey was generally rather a heavy, slow fellow, but on this occasion
he was quick as lightning, and, turning sharply to Distin, who looked
pale and nervous at the result of his passionate act.
"You might have given the dictionary to him, Distin," he said, in a
reproachful tone. "Don't do books any good to throw 'em."
"Quite right, Mr Macey, quite right," said the rector, blandly, as he
moved slowly to the arm-chair at the end of the table. "Really,
gentlemen, you startled me. I was afraid that the book was intended for
me, hum--ha! in disgust because I was so late."

"Oh, no, sir," cried Distin, with nervous eagerness.
"Of course not, my dear Distin, of course not. An accident--an error--
of judgment. Good for the binders, no doubt, but not for the books. And
I have an affection for books--our best friends."
He subsided into his chair as he spoke.
"Pray forgive me for being so late. A little deputation from the town,
Mr Rounds, my churchwarden; Mr Dodge, the people's. A little
question of dispute calling for a gentle policy on my part, and--but, no
matter; it will not interest you, neither does it interest me now, in the
face of our studies. Mr Macey, shall I run over your paper now?"
Macey made a grimace at Vane, as he passed his paper to the rector;
and, as it was taken, Vane glanced at Distin, and saw that his lips were
moving as he bent over his Greek. Vane saw a red spot in each of his
sallow cheeks, and a peculiar twitching about the corners of his eyes,
giving the lad a nervous, excitable look, and making Vane remark,--
"What a pity it all is. Wish he couldn't be so easily put out. He can't
help it, I suppose, and I suppose I can. There, he shan't