Charles Snow - The Masters

He had sat down, and leant over the arm of his chair towards Brown and Chrystal.

‘I want to find out,’ he said, ‘how the offices will go round, once Jago is Master.’

Chrystal looked at him, and then at Brown. There was a pause.

‘Well, Nightingale,’ said Chrystal, ‘you know as much as we do.’

‘No, not quite,’ said Nightingale.

‘You know as much as we do, Nightingale,’ Chrystal repeated. ‘The only office that can possibly be affected is a tutorship. You know as well as we do that tutors are appointed by the Master.’

‘You’re only telling me pieces out of the statutes,’ said Nightingale. ‘I can read them for myself.’

‘I’m telling you the position.’

‘I know all about that. Now I want to know how everything has been arranged behind the scenes,’ Nightingale smiled, with the dreadful suspiciousness of the unworldly: it is the unworldly who see neat, black, conscious designs hidden under all actions.

‘I take you up on that, Nightingale,’ said Chrystal, but Brown interrupted him.

‘If Jago becomes Master, as we hope, you’ll find that he’ll have a completely open mind about the appointment. Not a word has been said — either by him or anyone else.’

‘That’s the fact,’ said Chrystal. ‘The normal practice is for the Master to ask for advice—’

‘I know all about that,’ said Nightingale again.

‘But he needn’t follow it.’ Chrystal’s temper was very near breaking. ‘I’ve known cases where it wasn’t followed. If you’re asking me what Jago will do, I can only tell you what I think. It won’t take you very far. I assume he will make Brown Senior Tutor. That doesn’t need saying. For the other tutor he’ll have to look round.’

‘No, it doesn’t need saying,’ said Nightingale, looking at Brown.

‘It would be an outrage if it did need saying. Anyone in his senses would offer Brown that job if he had the chance,’ I burst out angrily.

For a moment Nightingale was quiet. Then he said: ‘I’ll take your word for it that the other tutorship isn’t earmarked yet. I want you to know that I expect to be considered for it myself.’

We looked at him. He went on: ‘I’m a long way senior of all the people without offices in this college. Except for Crawford who doesn’t need them. I’ve been done out of every office since I was elected. I want to prevent it happening again.’

Brown said, knowing that he had to be soothed: ‘I’m sure you can be absolutely certain that Jago will consider you very seriously. Put it another way: your standing in the college means that you’re bound to be the first person considered. So now I shouldn’t worry if I were you, until the vacancy has really happened.’

‘I’ve been fobbed off like that before,’ said Nightingale. ‘It’s too vague by half.’

‘No one can be any more definite,’ said Chrystal crisply.

‘Is that as much as you can tell me?’ Nightingale asked, half-threatening, half-pleading.

‘It is,’ said Chrystal.

‘I don’t think anyone could possibly go any further,’ said Brown, anxious to conciliate him. ‘We couldn’t conceivably commit Jago in any shape or form. You must see that that is quite unreasonable. If, when he had to make the appointment, he happened to ask our advice (as I dare say he might feel inclined to do), you can rest assured that we are the last persons to overlook your claim. We can guarantee that you’ll receive an absolutely fair hearing.’

‘It’s not good enough,’ said Nightingale.

‘I’m sorry,’ said Chrystal.

‘I’m very sorry indeed,’ said Brown. ‘We’re really going to the extreme limit, you know. I don’t quite see what more we can possibly do.’

‘I see what I can do.’

‘What’s that?’

‘I shall go and tackle Jago myself,’ said Nightingale.

It was late, too late for him to go round that night, I thought with relief, but he left at once.

I woke early next morning, and lay listening to the series of quarter chimes, thinking of the alignment in the college. The parties had stayed constant since the two caucus meetings: no one had changed sides, although Francis Getliffe and Winslow had made an attempt to seduce Eustace Pilbrow. That was the only open attempt at persuasion so far made. Roy Calvert and I had wanted to have a go at old Gay, but Brown said wait. Both sides, in fact, were holding back; it was taken for granted that one or two in each caucus were waverers, but it was not yet time to attack them. In secret, Brown felt content because Pilbrow had been approached too early.

But, from the beginning, Nightingale had been our weakest spot. Waiting for Bidwell to announce nine o’clock that morning, I doubted whether we should ever hold him. How could one handle him in his present state? Last night he had wanted a promise. He would not be satisfied with less.

Looking down into the court after breakfast, I saw Jago walking through. I thought he should be warned at once, and so went down to meet him. I asked if he had seen Nightingale recently. He said no, and asked me why.

‘He’s coming to see you,’ I said.

‘What for?’

‘He wants you to promise that, when you become Master, you’ll offer him the tutorship.’

Jago’s face was shadowed with anger: but, before he had done more than curse, we heard a tapping from one of the ground-floor windows. It was Brown beckoning us in.

He was standing in the bedroom of the set which the college used for guests. There was a fire burning in the grate, and he had put some books on the bedside table. One of them was a large history of the college, and another a volume of reminiscences of Cambridge in the eighteenth century.

‘Whatever are you doing, Brown?’ said Jago.

‘I’m just seeing that things are ready for Sir Horace tomorrow night.’

Jago exclaimed.

‘I think it’s a mistake to have it too luxurious,’ Brown explained. ‘People like Sir Horace might get a wrong idea. They might think we weren’t completely poverty stricken. So one’s got to be careful. But I think there’s no harm in seeing that the room is reasonably decent.’

‘You oughtn’t to be doing it,’ said Jago. Angry at the news of Nightingale, his hurt pride broke out here. ‘The college oughtn’t to be an antiquarian hotel for wealthy men. And I don’t like seeing them waited on by their betters.’

‘For God’s sake don’t tell Chrystal that,’ Brown said quickly, looking flushed and troubled. ‘I don’t mind. I’m always ready to accept things. But some people aren’t. I don’t mind what you think of Sir Horace, though mark you I’m quite convinced you’re wrong. But, even if you were right, I should be prepared to use the instruments that providence puts in our hands.’ He smiled at Jago with concern. ‘Oh, by the way, I was going to talk to you this morning about another of those instruments — actually our friend Nightingale.’

‘I’ve just mentioned it,’ I said.

‘I’ve never heard of such insolence,’ Jago said fiercely.

‘You must be statesmanlike,’ said Brown.

‘He’s the last person I should think of making tutor.’

‘I hope you won’t consider it necessary to tell him so,’ said Brown.

‘I should dearly like to.’

‘No. You can be perfectly correct — without giving him the impression that the door is absolutely closed. Remember, indignation is a luxury which we can’t afford just at present.’

‘We’re not all as sensible as you, my dear friend.’ But Jago’s temper was simmering down, and shortly after he asked us who should be tutor. ‘If I am lucky enough to be elected,’ he said, ‘I think I shall feel obliged to offer it to Getliffe.’ Brown did not believe Francis would look at it (Brown was always inclined to see reasons why it was difficult for men to take jobs): he had only taken the stewardship under protest, he was ‘snowed under’ with his two kinds of research.