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Updated: May 26, 2025
It is to be feared that Mark Railsford, Moral Science man though he was, had yet to learn the art of applying his philosophy to his own circumstances, or he would never have committed the serious error, on the day following the event recorded in the last chapter, of writing the following foolish note to Mr Bickers: "February 1.
"So," soliloquised Mr Bickers, after discovering that he was unhurt, though uncomfortably cramped, "our friend Railsford is having one lodger more than the regulation number to-night. This will make another hypothetical case for the next session of masters!" Railsford's house was not famous for early risers. The chapel-bell in winter began to ring at 7.30, and "call-over" was at 7.45.
"It's a strange mystery," said Railsford, "but sooner or later we shall know the meaning of it." "Later the better," put in Arthur, with a wink. "I don't envy the feelings of the culprit, whoever he is; for he is a coward as well as a liar." "No, more do I, Perhaps you're too down on him, though. Never mind, he's safe enough, for you and me."
Despite all his rebuffs, he had for some weeks looked upon the Master of the Shell as one of the most promising men on his staff; and he deplored the infatuation which now promised to bring his connection with Grandcourt to an abrupt end. But there was no alternative. "Mr Railsford," said he, "you have heard Mr Roe's statement; is it correct?" "Quite correct, sir."
"Now you have a moment or two to spare," he began. "I've not a moment to spare," said Railsford, irritated. "What do you want?" "I want you to look at this letter. It concerns you." And he produced an envelope from his pocket. "Give it to me," said Railsford. "I'll read it when I have time." "No, thank you. I want you to " "Ring the bell for the high jump," said Railsford, turning his back.
But Mr Bickers had too keen an eye to let himself be imposed upon. He had witnessed the scene from a window in his own house, and surmising by the noise that no authority was present to deal with the disorder, had taken upon himself to look in in a friendly way and set things right. "Silence!" he cried, closing the door behind him, and walking two steps into the room. "Where is Mr Railsford?"
Let him say it to your face, and you stand up and say to him to his face, it is one what you call it, one very big lie." "Well, I will do my best," said Railsford, smiling. "It is a wretched business altogether." "It is strange it is a secret still. I have my thoughts often, friend Railsford.
In their own opinion, evidently, they were the lords and masters of Grandcourt. They strutted about with the airs of proprietors, and Railsford began to grow half uneasy lest any of them should detect him at the window and demand what right he had there. The scene grew more and more lively.
"I rather wonder it did not suggest itself to you to call on me for information." Railsford wondered so too, and felt rather sheepish. "Your train must have been late. I expected you an hour ago." "I think we were up to time. I walked from Blankington here." "Really I wish I had known of your intention."
"And don't be so foolish again." Bateson departed, marvelling that he had not been thrashed for his crime, but pretty effectually cured of any ambition to renew his narcotic experiments. Railsford, had he been anyone else but Master of the House, would have enjoyed this little adventure. As it was, he did not like it, for it could scarcely end where it had.
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