CHAPTER II. "RED-NECKS." AVING in the last chapter introduced myself and my two friends to you, it follows naturally that I should say a few words as to the origin of the aforesaid friendship. Eustace and I have been companions from our earliest years. My poor father was rector of the parish in which the old baronial hall of the Percys is situated, and from which the village takes its name, and I think he had been at college with Sir Percy, the present baronet. The living was not a rich one, and, when my father died suddenly, leaving my mother slenderly enough provided for, Sir Percy had been very kind to her in his own cold, haughty way. Although she was far too proud and independent to receive any pecuniary assistance at his hands, she had gladly accepted his offer, an offer made with all possible delicacy and good breeding, to allow me to avail myself of the services of the private tutor who attended his own sons. Hence, as soon as I was old enough, I used to go up to the Grange every day, and share in the lessons of Rupert and Eustace, the two sons of Sir Percy Percy. I seldom saw Sir Percy, but, whenever I chanced to meet him, he always spoke kindly, if coldly, to me. It wasn't in his nature, I think, to speak warmly to any one. The tutor was an elderly, kind-hearted gentleman, To me who had, I fancy, been unfortunate in life. he was a real and true friend; and, if he made any distinction between myself and the sons of his patron, it was merely that he paid me more attention, and seemed more solicitous about the success of my studies. My mother was truly grateful to Sir Percy for his kindness, in thus affording me the chance of acquiring an education far above what her means would have allowed, whilst to me the advantages of such an opportunity were of the highest value. I had no other companions but Rupert and Eustace. I never took much to Rupert. Although he never threw into my teeth, as many boys would have done, the advantages which I was enjoying, through the kindness and generosity of his father, he always contrived, somehow, to make me feel the difference in our position; whilst the coldness and reserve of his manner chilled me, and effectually prevented anything like intimacy between us. with Eustace it was very different. We seemed to take to one another from the first. When we were too young to be more than mere childish playfellows we were most affectionate playfellows. As we grew up, the childish affection deepened into a true, earnest, never-wavering friendship. Unlike the generality of boys' friendships, which are so fickle and uncertain, ours never changed. He took the place of brother and sister to me, and divided the empire of my young and ardent love with her who was his only rival. I look back through the mists of many troubled years to those early days, and the coldness and the stern realities of the present seem to me to melt away and be lost in the remembrance of a friendship that was as pure as it was deep, as true as it was strong. I loved, with all my But heart and soul, the noble, gentle-hearted boy who seemed to pour out upon me all the tender sympathies and all the generous impulses of his fervent nature; who came to me in all his little griefs, and made me the confidant of all his boyish aspirations; who seemed to lean with such a frank and ever-trustful confidence on my will, a will, perchance, somewhat sterner and more rugged than his own. As I have just said, I loved him with all my heart and soul; with a love to which I can look back and say, in my heart of hearts, that the remembrance of it is coupled with no regrets, with no recollection which I could wish to be swept away and hidden from my sight. In the innocence of my early youth I opened to him all my heart, and with a simplicity and truth which admitted no less holy thought than that he was infinitely worthy of the best affections of my soul, I shrined him, once and for ever, in its love. I accepted, without shrinking, without one misgiving thought, the surrender of himself which he seemed. to make to my stronger will. I accepted without hesitation that influence over him to which he seemed to invite me; but, although there were times when that influence was very strong, and when I was called upon to use it in very critical circumstances, I can lay my hand upon my heart, and thank my God in my inmost soul, that I never exerted it except for what I thought to be his good, except to make him, if that had been possible, a more noble, a more gallant, a more honourable, and true English gentleman. No matter what I myself might be, I would have died before I would have used my influence over him to lead Eustace Percy, even by one hair's breadth, from the path of duty and of right. I pursued my studies in the manner already mentioned until I was about fourteen years of age. At this time Sir Percy determined to send Eustace to Atherby school, whence, in due season, he was to proceed to Oxford. Atherby school was partly endowed, that is to say, there were a number of free scholarships attached to it, and to one of these Sir Percy, by his influence, got me nominated. I had no hesitation in accepting the nomination; firstly, because, without it, an education such as that imparted at Atherby would have been altogether out of my reach; secondly, because my position would be in no wise different from that of the other pupils, as the names of the fortunate scholars were known to the authorities alone; and thirdly and principally, because I should by this means still pursue my studies in company with Eustace, who, I need scarcely say, was not upon the "foundation." Although very undecided in my own mind as to my future profession, my poor mother had set her heart upon my entering the Church. I therefore went to Atherby with the intention of gaining, if possible, one of the "Exhibitions" belonging to the school. This exhibition, if I could succeed in gaining it, would entitle me to enter one of the colleges in Oxford, and would supply me with fifty pounds ayear for three years, a noble prize for a youth in my position. For this exhibition I had been studying hard for nearly four years previous to the time when I first introduced myself to your notice, and, at the ensuing Christmas, I was to stand my examination. If I succeeded, I should at once proceed to Oxford as an undergraduate. Whether I succeeded or not, Tom and Eustace were to enter Oxford as gentlemen-commoners the next term, a fact which exercised no little influence on my studies. To me, however, whilst it was a matter of life and death, as far as my future prospects were concerned, to them, success in their studies, either at Atherby, or later on at Oxford, was a matter of very minor import ance. The way in which the friendship between Tom Bowman and me originated was so characteristic, that, with your leave, I will briefly narrate it. In the year 182-, boys were boys, and nothing more. They did not aspire to be men before their timeaping the manners and the dress, and, I am afraid in too many cases, the vices of their elders. On the Sunday after my arrival at Atherby I had arrayed myself in a resplendent pair of white trousers, which were quite the fashion in those days, and of which, I dare say, I was vain enough. My vanity, however, was destined to receive a very unforeseen and mortifying check. When afternoon service was over, and I was strutting about the grounds, as proud as a peacock, Tom Bowman came over to me and invited me to inspect his garden. Suspecting nothing wrong, and proud to be noticed by Tom, I at once accepted the invitation. There was nothing particular in the little plot of ground which, by a considerable stretch of language, Tom called a garden, except a large stone, and some miserable-looking grass, diversified with, here and there, a plant of the very commonest kind. However, taking me by the arm, Tom invited me to enter and "look about me," as he expressed it. I thought he was hurrying me rather unnecessarily to the further side of his wretched grass-plot; but, in a second more, to my intense astonishment, I felt the ground suddenly give way beneath my feet, and when I recovered from my surprise, I found myself standing up to my |