Kathleen

Chapter 4

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Friday the fifteenth of March was the last day of term. The

Scorpions, busy in their various ways with the hundred details

that have to be attended to before "going down," were all

pleasantly excited by the anticipation of their quest, which was

to begin on the morrow. Carter, shaking hands with the warden of

New College in the college hall (a pleasant little formality

performed at the end of each term) absent-mindedly replied

"Wolverhampton" when the warden asked him where he was going to

spend the vacation. He was then hard put to it to avoid a letter

of introduction to the vicar of St. Philip's in that city, an old

pupil of the warden. King, bicycling rapidly down the greasy Turl

with an armful of books, collided vigorously with another cyclist

at the corner of the High. They both sprawled on the curb, bikes

interlocked. "My god, sir!" cried the Goblin; "Why not watch

where you're going?" Then he saw it was Johnny Blair. "Sorry,

Goblin," said the latter; "I--I was thinking about Kathleen." "So

was I," said King, picking up his books. And in defiance of the

University statute of 1636 (still unrepealed) which warns

students against "frequenting dicing houses, taverns, or booths

where the nicotian herb is sold," they went into Hedderly's

together to buy tobacco.

After breakfast the next morning they were all in cabs on their

way to the Great Western Station. It was a mild and sunny day,

with puffs of spring in the air. Who can ever forget the Saturday

morning at the end of term when the men "go down"? Long lines of

hansoms spinning briskly toward the station, with bulging

portmanteaus on the roof; the wide sunny sweep of the Broad with

the 'bus trundling past Trinity gates; a knot of tall youths in

the 'varsity uniform of gray "bags" and brown tweed norfolk,

smoking and talking at the Balliol lodge--and over it all the

clang of a hundred chimes, the gray fingers of a thousand spires

and pinnacles, the moist blue sky of England.... Ah, it is the

palace of youth, or it was once.

The Scorpions met on the dingy north-bound platform. Graham,

Keith, and Twiston had been obliged to scratch owing to other

more imperative plans; but five members boarded the 10 o'clock

train in high spirits. Forbes, Carter, King, Blair, and Whitney--

they filled a third-class smoker with tobacco and jest.

"Now, Goblin," cried Falstaff, as the train ran past the Port

Meadow, and the Radcliffe dome dropped from view; "Open those

sealed orders! You promised to draw up the rules of the game."

"1. The headquarters of the expedition will be the Blue Boar Inn

at Wolverhampton. (I've written to them to engage rooms.)

"2. The Kriegspiel will begin to-day at 2 P.M., and manoeuvres

will continue without intermission until someone is declared the

winner, or until time is called.

"3. The object of the contest is to make the acquaintance of

Kathleen; to engage her in friendly conversation; to win her

confidence, and to induce her to accept an invitation to Commem,

or Eights Week.

"4. Any deception, strategy, or tactics which are not calculated

to give intolerable distress or embarrassment to Kathleen and her

family, are allowable.

It was a merry ride. The story of Kathleen as they had written it

was discussed pro and con.; the usual protests were launched at

Carter for having in his chapter lowered the theme to the level

of burlesque; praise was accorded to the Goblin for the dexterity

with which he had rescued the plot. Blair's chapter had been full

of American slang which had to be explained to the others.

"Joe," the Rhodes Scholar hero, had shown a vein of fine gold

under Blair's hands: he bade fair to win the charming Kathleen,

although the story had not been finished owing to the examinations

which had fallen upon the brotherhood toward the end of term.

The game, begun in pure jest, had taken on something of romantic

earnest: there was not one of these young men who did not see

in Kathleen his own ideal of slender, bright-cheeked girlhood.

And when the train pulled into Wolverhampton, they tumbled

out of their smoking carriage with keen expectation.

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