Born in Exile Read Free Page B

the rising of Professor Walsh, who represented the
science of Physics. Early in the present year had been published a
speculative treatise which, owing to its supposed incompatibility
with Christian dogmas, provoked much controversy and was largely
discussed in all educated circles. The work was anonymous, but a
rumour which gained general currency attributed it to Professor
Walsh. In the year 1874 an imputation of religious heresy was not
lightly to be incurred by a Professor—even Professor of Physics—at
an English college. There were many people in Kingsmill who
considered that Mr. Walsh's delay in repudiating so grave a charge
rendered very doubtful the propriety of his retaining the chair at
Whitelaw. Significant was the dispersed applause which followed
slowly upon his stepping forward to-day; on the Professor's face
was perchance legible something like a hint of amused defiance.
Ladies had ceased to beam; they glanced meaningly at one another,
and then from under their eyelids at the supposed heretic.
    'A fine fellow, Walsh!' exclaimed Buckland, clapping
vigorously.
    His father smiled, but with some uneasiness. Mrs. Warricombe
whispered to Sidwell:
    'What a very disagreeable face! The only one of the Professors
who doesn't seem a gentleman.'
    The girl was aware of dark reports affecting Mr. Walsh's
reputation. She hazarded only a brief examination of his features,
and looked at the applauding Buckland with alarm.
    'His lectures are splendid,' said her brother, emphatically. 'If
I were going to be here next session, I should take them.'
    For some minutes after the Professor's return to his seat a
susurration was audible throughout the hall; bonnets bent together,
and beards exchanged curt comments.
    The ceremony, as is usual with all ceremonies, grew wearisome
before its end. Buckland was deep in one of the chapters of his
geologic prize when the last speaker closed the last report and
left the assembly free to disperse. Then followed the season of
congratulations: Professors, students, and the friendly public
mingled in a conversazione . A nucleus of vivacious
intercourse formed at the spot where young Mr. Chilvers stood amid
trophies of examinational prowess. When his numerous relatives had
all shaken hands with him, and laughed, smiled, or smirked their
felicitations, they made way for the press of eager acquaintances.
His prize library was reverently surveyed, and many were the
sportive sallies elicited by the victor's obvious inability to
carry away what he had won. Suavely exultant, ready with his reply
to every flattering address, Bruno Chilvers exhibited a social tact
in advance of his years: it was easy to imagine what he would
become when Oxford terms and the seal of ordination had matured his
youthful promise.
    At no great distance stood his competitor, Godwin Peak
embarrassed, he also, with wealth of spoils; but about this young
man was no concourse of admiring kinsfolk. No lady offered him her
hand or shaped compliments for him with gracious lips. Half-a-dozen
fellow-students, among them John Earwaker, talked in his vicinity
of the day's results. Peak's part in the gossip was small, and when
he smiled it was in a forced, anxious way, with brief raising of
his eyes. For a moment only was the notice of a wider circle
directed upon him when Dr Nares, moving past with a train of
colloquial attendants, turned aside to repeat his praise of the
young man's achievements in Philosophy: he bestowed a kindly shake
of the hand, and moved on.
    The Warricombe group descended, in purposeless fashion, towards
the spot where Chilvers held his court. Their personal acquaintance
with Bruno and his family was slight, and though Mrs. Warricombe
would gladly have pushed forward to claim recognition, natural
diffidence restrained her. Sidwell kept in the rear, risking now
and then a glance of vivid curiosity on either hand. Buckland,
striving not to look petulant or sullen, allowed himself to be led
on; but when he became aware