Ch. 4: The Impressionists

They had dropped into the chaplain's study for a Saturday night
smoke---all four house-masters--and the three briars and the one
cigar reeking in amity proved the Rev. John Gillett's good
generalship. Since the discovery of the cat, King had been too ready
to see affront where none was meant, and the Reverend John,
buffer-state and general confidant, had worked for a week to bring
about a good understanding. He was fat, clean-shaven, except for a
big mustache, of an imperturbable good temper, and, those who loved
him least said, a guileful Jesuit. He smiled benignantly upon his
handiwork--four sorely tried men talking without very much malice.

"Now remember," he said, when the conversation turned that way, "I
impute nothing. But every time that any one has taken direct steps
against Number Five study, the issue has been more or less
humiliating to the taker."

"I can't admit that. I pulverize the egregious Beetle daily for his
soul's good; and the others with him," said King.

"Well, take your own case, King, and go back a couple of years. Do you
remember when Prout and you were on their track for hutting and
trespass, wasn't it? Have you forgotten Colonel Dabney?"

The others laughed. King did not care to be reminded of his career as
a poacher.

"That was one instance. Again, when you had rooms below them--I always
said that that was entering the lion's den--you turned them out."

"For making disgusting noises. Surely, Gillett, you don't excuse--"

"All I say is that you turned them out. That same evening your study
was wrecked."

"By Rabbits-Eggs--most beastly drunk--from the road," said King. "What
has that?"

The Reverend John went on.

"Lastly, they conceive that aspersions are cast upon their personal
cleanliness--a most delicate matter with all boys. Ve-ry good.
Observe how, in each case, the punishment fits the crime. A week
after your house calls them 'stinkers,' King, your house is, not to
put too fine a point on it, stunk out by a dead cat who chooses to
die in the one spot where she can annoy you most. Again the long arm
of coincidence! _Summa_. You accuse them of trespass. Through some
absurd chain of circumstances--they may or may not be at the other
end of it--you and Prout are made to appear as trespassers. You evict
them. For a time your study is made untenable. I have drawn the
parallel in the last case. Well?"

"She was under the centre of White's dormitory," said King. "There are
double floor-boards there to deaden noise. No boy, even in my own
house, could possibly have pried up the boards without leaving some