PAGE 7
Dotheboys Hall
by
“A sulky state of feeling,” said Squeers, after a terrible pause. “Cheerfulness and contentment must be kept up. Mobbs, come to me.”
Mobbs moved slowly towards the desk, rubbing his eyes in anticipation of good cause for doing so; and he soon afterwards retired by the side door, with as good a cause as a boy need have.
Mr. Squeers then proceeded to open a miscellaneous collection of letters; some enclosing money, which Mrs. Squeers “took care of;” and others referring to small articles of apparel, all of which the same lady stated to be too large, or too small, and calculated for nobody but young Squeers, who would appear indeed to have had most accommodating limbs, since everything that came into the school fitted him to a nicety. His head, in particular, must have been singularly elastic, for hats and caps of all dimensions were alike to him.
This business despatched, a few slovenly lessons were performed, and Squeers retired to his fireside, leaving Nicholas to take care of the boys in the schoolroom. There was a small stove at that corner of the room which was nearest to the master’s desk, and by it Nicholas sat down, depressed and degraded by the consciousness of his position. But for the present his resolve was taken. He had written to his mother and sister, announcing the safe conclusion of his journey, and saying as little about Dotheboys Hall, and saying that little as cheerfully, as he could. He hoped that by remaining where he was, he might do some good, even there; at all events, others depended too much on him to admit of his complaining just then.
From the moment of making that resolve, Nicholas got on in his place as well as he could, doing his best to improve matters. He arranged a few regular lessons for the boys, and saw that they were well attended; but his heart sank more and more, for besides the dull, unvarying round of misery there was another system of annoyance which nearly drove him wild by its injustice and cruelty. Upon the wretched creature Smike, all the spleen and ill-humour that could not be vented on Nicholas, were unceasingly bestowed. Drudgery would have been nothing–Smike was well used to that. Buffetings inflicted without cause would have been equally a matter of course, for to them also he had served a long and weary apprenticeship; but it was no sooner observed that he had become attached to Nicholas, than stripes and blows, morning, noon, and night, were his only portion. Squeers was jealous of the influence which his new teacher had so soon acquired; and his family hated him, and Smike paid for both. Nicholas saw this, and ground his teeth at every repetition of the savage and cowardly attack.
Not many weeks later, on a cold January morning, when Nicholas awoke he found the entire school agog with quivering excitement. Smike had run away, and Squeers’s anger was at white heat against him and every one else.
“He is off,” said Mrs. Squeers, angrily. “The cowhouse and stable are locked up, so he can’t be there; and he’s not down stairs anywhere. He must have gone York way, and by a public road too. Then of course,” continued Mrs. Squeers, “as he had no money he must beg his way, and he could do that nowhere, but on the public road.”
“That’s true,” exclaimed Squeers, clapping his hands.
“True! Yes; but you would never have thought of it, if I hadn’t said so,” replied his wife. “Now, if you take the chaise and go one road, and I borrow Swallow’s chaise and go the other, one or other of us is pretty certain to lay hold of him!”
This plan was adopted and put in execution without a moment’s delay.
After a very hasty breakfast, Squeers started forth in the pony-chaise, intent upon discovery and vengeance. Shortly afterwards, Mrs. Squeers issued forth in another chaise and another direction, taking with her a good-sized bludgeon, several odd pieces of strong cord, and a stout labouring man.