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Updated: June 23, 2025
Pascal had the words engraved upon his seal; Canon Ainger left instructions that they should be inscribed on his tomb at Darley Abbey; but, like Donal Grant, Michael Faraday wove them into the very warp and woof, the fiber and fabric of his daily life. 'Speculations! he cried in dismay, 'speculations! I have none! I am resting on certainties!
"None, sir," said Ainger, a little nettled at the master's tone; "we have talked it over, and, as far as we are concerned, it's a complete mystery." "Have you any reason to suspect anybody?" "None at all, sir." "You know, all of you, I needn't tell you, that the credit of the house is at stake in fact, it's gone till we find the offenders.
"You four boys are in the Sixth, and I understand that the discipline of the house is pretty much in your hands. I shall have to depend on you; and if things go wrong, of course I shall naturally hold you responsible." Ainger flushed up at this; while Stafford, on whom the master's eyes were fixed, vaguely nodded his head.
"Have you the slightest idea what it all means?" asked the head-master. "Not the slightest, sir," said Ainger shortly. If he had had, he would have spoken long ago, as the doctor knew or should have known. "No one is to stay up," said the doctor, "and I wish you to take charge of the order of the house in Mr Railsford's absence, Ainger.
"No, hang it, Barnworth! there's no time for chaff at present. What I want to say is, have we tried every possible means of finding out who scragged Bickers last term?" "I think so," said Stafford. "Every one in the house has denied it. If it's one of our fellows, it's probably the biggest liar among us." "Which means Felgate?" said Ainger. "Or Munger," said Barnworth.
"No, sir," said Ainger, returning the look, after his fashion, half defiantly. The next name was called, and its owner marched up to the desk and uttered his denial. Railsford, as he stood scanning keenly the face of each boy in turn, felt that he was watching the action of some strange machine. First Ainger's clear voice. Then the short "Adsum," and the footsteps up to the desk.
It was much easier defying Ainger in his absence than in his presence, and now that he stood there and confronted them, the delinquents did not quite feel the hardy men of war they had been five minutes ago. Munger, however, tried to carry the thing off with a bluster. "We don't see the fun of being compelled to go every time. We don't care about cricket; besides we don't mean to go.
He's got the longest legs in Grandcourt, and used to have the best wind." "Gone stale," said Ainger, "and growing too fast. Why, he must be as tall as Railsford already; and he's good for an inch or so more." "Poor beggar! But what about the high jump?" "High jump? Smedley and Clipstone a tie, 5 feet 4½." "Thank you," said Barnworth. "I may as well scratch at once.
Miss Pinsent was certainly the last to underrate such a privilege: "It's so important, my dear, forming as we do a little family, that there should be some one to give the tone; and no one could do it better than Lady Susan an earl's daughter and a person of such determination. Dear Mrs. Ainger now who really ought, you know, when Lady Susan's away absolutely refuses to assert herself."
As he crossed the quadrangle a cab drove in, and set down a tall, elderly gentleman, who, after looking about him, advanced towards the prefect, and said, "Can you direct me to the head-master's house?" "Yes, sir," said Ainger, "I'm going there myself. It's this way." It wasn't often strangers made so early a call at Grandcourt.
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