The Island School — page 129: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

106 Mr. Groby all this time was a prisoner in his room. He had carefully dressed himself also, and was as callant and gay as Storeby. He had heard that Eve- line and her mother were going out, and it was his intention to act as escort—to insist upon it. On trying to open the door of his room he found it was fast. Somebody had removed the key—probably some time before—and locked it from the outside. Hvidence of that being done was to be seen in the tip of the key that protruded through the lock. His window, like those in the rest of the house, was barred with iron. He was a prisoner. ‘‘ Curses!” he muttered; “who has done this? It is the boys avenging the confinement of their friends.” It was a natural thought, all things considered, but it was not the correct one. The boys had nothing to do with it. Storeby, the undermaster, was responsible for it. He had noted the extraordinary bearing of Mr. Groby when speaking to Eveline, and being, in a great measure, gone that way himself, was madly jealous, and to thwart the intentions of his self-elected principal, he planned locking him in his room, and carried it out success- fully. In vain did Mr. Groby hammer and hammer at his door. Nobody came to his assistance. The boys were all outside the house, save those confined in the class-room, and Macbeth, Hamlet, and Romeo, having cleared away and washed up the dinner-things, were enjoying an afternoon nap in separate secluded corners of the establishment. It was fully an hour afterwards, when Romeo, who had found a cool candle cupboard a congenial retreat, was aroused from varied dreams by a final effort on the part of Mr. Groby to make somebody hear. He was hammering the door with one of his boots, and yelling his loudest. Romeo opened his eyes, struggled with the last clouds of sleep, dispersed them, and sat up. ““Gorymash !” he exclaimed, “ what am dat ?” He sprang up and hastened to the scene of the disturbance. Groby just then paused for breath, and Romeo succeeded in making himself heard. ‘‘ Anyting de marrer, massa?” he asked. ** Let me out!” hoarsely replied Mr. Groby. Why you not come out ?” asked Romeo. “The key is outside, you fool! Have you any me _ Two dat berrer dan yours,” muttered Romeo, as ae “he laid hold of the key and turned it. | Mr. Groby came forth like an enraged but almost a | exhanstd bull. “ if un ht eae it ?” he roared. ss ” > ‘ * poeta Seb eer” BO Pele, ve " leafs THE ISLAND a ee PB Oe a ‘ i er. ‘Ws ‘ 2.i\. - +s SCHOOL, “Only heard you dis moment, sar.” ‘‘ Where have you been this last hour ?” “‘ Outside in de shed, a-choppin’ wood.” “ Where’s your father.” “He helpin’ me wif de choppin’.” “And your grandfather ?” “‘He been «-stackin’ ob it.” Having got through three lies with the most re- markable promptitude, Romeo folded his hands and meekly received a string of curses bestowed upon him and his relatives. Mr. Groby stalked away, but he did not go much farther than the door. His original intention had been to follow Mrs. Farrell and Eveline without delay, and he was not. certain which way they had gone. He was keenly disappointed. His afternoon was ruined, his get-up a waste of time, and the acidity of his feelings was not lessened when, a short time after- wards, he saw the two ladies returning, with Mr. Storeby as escort. Unable to restrain his rage, he turned away, and walked up the beach for a furlong or so. Then he wheeled about, and assuming a casual air, strolled back again. He saw Mr. Storeby take leave of his companions at the door of the school, and with a satisfied smirk fill a pipe with tobacco, and begin to smoke with an air of contentment. The whole truth flashed upon Mr. Groby, and in a black fury he strode up to his junior. ‘Sir,’ he said, “ you locked the door of my room this afternoon !” “T did,” replied Storeby, the peaceful, unabashed. ‘Why did you do so infamous a thing ?” “To keep you in.” The coolness of the reply exasperated the other to a pitch of madness. ‘ “Sir,” he said, “ before you are many days older you shall repent of your unseemly joke !” “Poof!” exclaimed Storeby, fluttering his fingers contemptuously in the air. Mr. Groby could not resist it—rage blinded him— and he gave Storeby a push. The next moment he received a violent blow in the face, and went to the ground with a force that shook him from head to foot. Looking up, astounded and almost stunned, he saw bending over him a man whose face was hideous with rage. “You strike me again,” hissed Storeby, “and Tl murder you! Do you hear ?” The astonished man heard, without a doubt, but he did not reply. He had not the power of saying a word, and Storeby, with an effort, righting his body, hastened away, not daring to trust himself a moment more in the company of the man he hated in the most deadly ‘| mnanner. { % 9