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Updated: June 4, 2025
No one had seen him since breakfast that morning. "Is Greenfield senior here?" "Yes, sir," answered Oliver. "Will you come with me to the Doctor at once, please?" Oliver was out in the passage in a moment, and hurrying with the master to Dr Senior's study. "I'm afraid," said Mr Rastle, as they went "I'm afraid something has happened to Loman!"
I must have my money slap down, I let you know, or somebody shall hear of it." "But he has paid you something?" said Mr Rastle, remembering Oliver's account of the loan of eight pounds. "Has he?" exclaimed Cripps, satirically. "Oh, that's all right, only I ain't seen it, that's all." "Do you mean he hasn't paid you anything?" demanded Mr Rastle, becoming impatient with his jocular manner.
He had not time to finish his sentence, for with a sudden exclamation and a shout of, "There it is again; come, Wray!" the boy had leapt from the low window, half clad as he was, into the garden. For Wraysford to follow him was the work of an instant Mr Rastle and Roach the porter did the same, while the others went hurriedly out into the passage to the hall door.
Brer Fox, he make like he ain't watchin', but he keep on holler'n: "'Hurry up dar, Rabs! I'm a waitin' on you. "En de little Rabbits, dey hustle 'roun' en rastle wid it, but they couldn't broke it. Bimeby dey hear little bird singin' on top er de house, en de song w'at de little bird sing wuz dish yer.
I'm positive of it!" said the boy, plunging forward. "Stand still, and listen again," said Wraysford; "we may be going all wrong." It was all he could do to keep the younger boy still for a few seconds. What ages those seconds seemed! A voice somewhere? No, only Mr Rastle and Roach coming up behind. "Well?" inquired the master, breathlessly.
But I did not read; I had but opened the book when my attention was arrested by sounds from the other side of the high fence low and tremulous croonings of distinctly African derivation: "Ah met mah sistuh in a-mawnin', She 'uz a-waggin' up de hill SO slow! 'Sistuh, you mus' git a rastle in doo time, B'fo de hevumly do's cloze iz!"
Bramble looked wildly about him, if haply he might escape by a window or lie hid in a desk; while Stephen, Paul, Padger, and the other ringleaders, gave themselves up for lost, and mentally bade farewell to joy for ever. "What have the boys been reading?" inquired Dr Senior of Mr Rastle. "Grey's Elegy, sir. We have just got through it." "Oh!
The Doctor paused uncomfortably, and Mr Rastle put in a question. "Are you and Loman great friends?" "No, we are not friends." "Does he often come to your study?" "No, sir. Very rarely." "May I ask, Greenfield," said the Doctor, "why he was in your study last night?" This was getting close quarters for Oliver, who, however, had made up his mind he must, if put to it, say all he knew.
There was nothing, in short, Bramble would not venture while the Doctor was away; and there is no knowing how far he might have carried his bloodthirsty conspiracies into effect had not Mr Rastle caught him one day with a saw, sawing the legs off the writing-master's stool, and given him such a chastisement, bodily and mental, as induced him for a brief season to retire from public life, and devote all his spare time to copying out an imposition.
Slowly Oliver followed Mr Rastle to the Doctor's study with strange forebodings at heart. Oliver had never been fond of Loman, as the reader knows, but somehow there are times when one forgets whether one is fond of another person or not, and Oliver felt as if he would give anything now to be sure Here he was at the Doctor's study.
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