The Gentleman Cadet - Drayson Alfred Wilks

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Believing that it was no question of probability, but a certainty, that I could not qualify for my examination, I considered it would be more prudent to withdraw under some excuse, rather than go up and fail. I was also assured by several boys that Mr Hostler would not allow me to go up unless he was tolerably certain I should pass, as it would bring discredit on his school if I failed.

      It was late in the evening when I reached my father’s lodge, and was welcomed by all my relatives. The change that had taken place in me was marked, and was noticed by all. I was thinner, and the care and thought of the past four months had given me an aged appearance, that made me look a year older than I was. I could scarcely conceal my feelings as my sisters hoped I was getting on splendidly, and would soon be an engineer, like Howard. To enter into all the details of my difficulties with them would, I knew, be useless, and so I avoided answering them, and made up my mind to wait till I could have a quiet talk with my father, and explain matters to him.

      After dinner that evening I found my opportunity of speaking to my father when we were alone. I was most eager to open my heart to him, and let him know how things really stood. Without any preface I suddenly said, “I want to tell you, there’s no possible chance of my passing for a cadet.”

      “No chance! What do you mean? Why, it’s nearly ten months to your examination! Don’t you mean to try?”

      “I may try all I can, and yet it’s impossible; it would take me two years to get into the class that goes up for examination.”

      “Mr Hostler thinks differently, Bob, for he says that he hopes you will pass, if you will work; but that up to the present time you have been very idle.”

      I listened with astonishment to my father’s remarks, and could hardly believe it possible that Mr Hostler had written such words. My doubts, however, were soon removed, by the production of Mr Hostler’s letter, in which were the very words quoted. I knew that what I had stated was correct, and that Mr Hostler knew, even better than I did, that there was no chance of my success; but at the time I had no idea of the reason for his sending such a letter to my father. It was, I found, the intention to send me back to Hostler’s at the termination of my three weeks’ vacation, and I began to count the days and hours of liberty previous to that, to me, unpleasant period.

      On the following morning I received an invitation from Howard, asking me to go over and pass a few days with him, and, having obtained my father’s consent, I started for his lodgings, which were at a farm-house near Lyndhurst.

      Howard was now to me even a greater hero than he had formerly appeared. I looked on him as one who had passed a distinguished career at Woolwich, and had also been abroad, and I felt somewhat afraid of him now that I knew how much he had done. He was, however, so kind and friendly that I was soon at my ease, and as we sat at our tête-à-tête dinner I found myself telling him all my disappointments, hopes, and fears at Mr Hostler’s, and my difficulties as regarded the future.

      Howard seemed much amused at all I told him, and said that the first thing he must teach me was to be a good “mill,” – that meant, how to use my fists. He did not mean to bother me with work, as he believed I wanted rest more than anything; but he promised to write to Hostler, and ask him to push me on, and he thought that, although it was difficult, yet it was by no means impossible I might pass.

      On the following morning, soon after breakfast, Howard produced a pair of boxing-gloves, and, taking a seat on a chair, gave me instruction in what he called “the noble art of self-defence.” He first showed me how to stand, how to raise and hold my fists, how to strike out and make the foot and hand work together. He pointed out the danger of an open guard by giving me light taps in the face, and then explained how to guard them.

      “We’ll have an hour a day at this fun,” he said, “while you are here, and I’ll back you to lick Fraser when you go back to Woolwich. There’s nothing that can’t be done by thought and work.”

      During the week I passed with Howard I changed from a condition of despondency to one of Hope. I learnt from him the power to be derived from thought and work. He explained to me his own difficulties, and how he had overcome them, and encouraged me by saying that, although I was backward, he believed I had brains enough to come to the front after all. By constant practice I had become, as he said, quite a “dab” with my fists, and ought to hold my own with heavier weights than myself. “Don’t you ever seek a fight,” he advised, “if you are even sure to win, because that’s bad style; but, if a boy tries to bully you, never avoid a fight, and you’ll soon find you’ll lead an easier life, even though you get licked.”

      I returned home from my visit to Howard with a lighter heart than I had gone there, for hope now took the place of despair. If I could only manage to pass into the Academy, I thought, what a triumph it would be! but then the knowledge of the work before me cropped up, and it seemed as impossible I could accomplish what I had to do as that I could accomplish flying, or any other impossibility. Any way, I would try hard on my return to Hostler’s, and perhaps he would now push me on faster than he had done before.

      My three weeks soon passed, and I once more joined Hostler’s school at Woolwich. There were two new boys, who had, however, been to other schools, and were fairly forward both in Euclid and algebra, and got on very well after the first few days. I soon became better friends than I had been with Strong and two or three other boys; but Fraser, who was the bully of the school, was still very uncivil to me, and more than once had threatened to thrash me if I interfered with him.

      Remembering the advice that Howard had given me, I told Strong one day that if Fraser gave me any reason for doing so, I intended to challenge him to fight. Strong warned me against doing anything so rash, for he assured me he knew a case where Fraser had completely cut a boy’s cheek open in a fight, and that I should not be able to stand up against him for five minutes.

      Chapter Six

      My First Victory

      It was about a month after I had returned from my vacation that Mr Hostler gave us a holiday, and arrangements were made for our playing a match of cricket on Lessness Heath, a piece of open ground near Belvedere. Each boy took out his lunch, and the whole school turned out for the day, Mr Monk being in charge of us. We walked to Belvedere, and soon arranged sides and commenced our match – Mr Monk leaving us to take care of ourselves whilst he went down to Erith to see some friends.

      After my side had been in and scored forty runs, the other eleven, of which Fraser was one, went in, and had scored thirty-six runs, when Fraser, who had retained his bat during the whole match, was “stumped,” and given out by the boy who was umpire. Fraser disputed the decision, and refused to go out, although even his own side owned that there was no doubt about it. At this Fraser became very angry, and declared he would not give in as he had never gone out of his ground. I stood “point,” and saw he was more than a foot out of his ground when stumped by the wicket-keeper, and, on being appealed to, said there was no doubt about it. No sooner had I said so than Fraser dropped his bat and rushed at me, striking me on the side of the head. In an instant I returned the blow, and a fight commenced.

      Several of the older boys, seeing there was to be a fight, suggested we should go into a gravel-pit near the heath, as we should not be seen there, and if Mr Monk came back we should be able to see him from a distance, before he saw us. We both went to the gravel-pit, and a ring was formed – Strong acting as my second, whilst the majority of the boys, feeling that Fraser was in the wrong, were on my side. The reputation, however, which Fraser had obtained as a “mill” caused several of the smaller boys to stand by him for fear of future punishment if they excited his displeasure.

      We were soon opposite to one another, with our coats off, and our shirt sleeves rolled up, ready to commence, most of the boys looking upon my defeat as certain, and half afraid lest I should be severely punished by my opponent. Fraser was confident of success, and exclaimed, “I’ll soon stop your cheek for you; now look out!”

      He made a rush at me, hitting out vigorously, but I remembered Howard’s advice, and determined to keep my head, and try to put in practice what he had taught me. I guarded myself against Fraser’s blows, and succeeded in twice giving him straight hits in the face without receiving a touch from him in return.

      The

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