prosecutions, even perhaps an enquiry into the sources and size of College funds. What would Trinity and King’s say to this? The Fellows of Porterhouse knew the odium they could expect for having precipitated a public enquiry that could put, would put, in jeopardy the vast wealth of the other colleges and they shrank from the prospect. It was the Dean who first broke the silence with a strangled cry.
‘He must be stopped,’ he gurgled.
The Senior Tutor nodded sympathetically. ‘We have little alternative.’
‘But how?’ demanded the Bursar, who was desperately trying to banish from his mind the knowledge thathe had inadvertently provided the Master with the information he was now threatening to disclose. If the other Fellows should ever learn who had provided Sir Godber with this material for blackmail his life in College would not be worth living.
‘At all costs the Master must be persuaded to stay on,’ said the Senior Tutor. ‘We simply cannot afford the scandal that would ensue from the publication of his letter of resignation.’
The Praelector looked at him vindictively. ‘We?’ he asked. ‘I beg not to be included in the list of those responsible for this disgraceful disclosure.’
‘And what precisely do you mean by that?’ asked the Senior Tutor.
‘I should have thought that it was obvious,’ said the Praelector. ‘Most of us have had nothing to do with the administration of College finances nor with the admissions procedure. We cannot be held responsible for …’
‘We are all responsible for College policy,’ shouted the Senior Tutor.
‘You are responsible for admissions,’ the Praelector shouted back. ‘You are responsible for the choice of candidates. You are …’
‘Gentlemen,’ the Bursar interposed, ‘let us not bicker about individual responsibilities. We are all responsible as members of the Council for the running of the College.’
‘Some of us are more responsible than others,’ the Praelector pointed out.
‘And we shall all share the blame for the mistakes that have been made in the past,’ continued the Bursar.
‘Mistakes? Who said anything about mistakes?’ demanded the Dean breathlessly.
‘I think that in the light of the Master’s …’ began the Senior Tutor.
‘Damn the Master,’ the Dean snarled, struggling to his feet. ‘Damn the man. Let us stop talking about mistakes. I said he must be stopped. I didn’t say we had to surrender to the swine.’ He waddled to the head of the table, portly, belligerent and stubborn, like some crimson toad and with all that creature’s resilience to the challenges of climate. The Senior Tutor hesitated in the face of his colleague’s revitalized obstinacy. ‘But …’ he began. The Dean raised a hand for silence.
‘He must be stopped,’ he said. ‘For the time being perhaps we must accept his proposals, but for the time being only. In the short run we must use the tactics of delay, but only in the short run.’
‘And then?’ the Senior Tutor asked.
‘We must buy time,’ continued the Dean. ‘Time to bring influence to bear upon Sir Godber and time to subject his own career to the scrutiny he has seen fit to apply to the customs and traditions of the College. No man who has spent as long as Sir Godber Evans in public life is wholly without fault. It is our business to discover the extent of his weaknesses.’
‘Are you saying that we should …’ the Praelector began.
‘I am saying that the Master is vulnerable,’ the Dean went on, ‘that he is corrupt and that he is open to influence from the powers that be. The tactics he has used this afternoon, tactics of blackmail, are a symptom of the corruption I am referring to. And let us not forget that we have powerful friends.’
The Senior Tutor pursed his lips and nodded. ‘True. Very true, Dean.’
‘Yes, Porterhouse can justly claim its share of eminent men. The Master may dismiss our protests but we have powerful allies,’ said the
‘He must be stopped,’ he gurgled.
The Senior Tutor nodded sympathetically. ‘We have little alternative.’
‘But how?’ demanded the Bursar, who was desperately trying to banish from his mind the knowledge thathe had inadvertently provided the Master with the information he was now threatening to disclose. If the other Fellows should ever learn who had provided Sir Godber with this material for blackmail his life in College would not be worth living.
‘At all costs the Master must be persuaded to stay on,’ said the Senior Tutor. ‘We simply cannot afford the scandal that would ensue from the publication of his letter of resignation.’
The Praelector looked at him vindictively. ‘We?’ he asked. ‘I beg not to be included in the list of those responsible for this disgraceful disclosure.’
‘And what precisely do you mean by that?’ asked the Senior Tutor.
‘I should have thought that it was obvious,’ said the Praelector. ‘Most of us have had nothing to do with the administration of College finances nor with the admissions procedure. We cannot be held responsible for …’
‘We are all responsible for College policy,’ shouted the Senior Tutor.
‘You are responsible for admissions,’ the Praelector shouted back. ‘You are responsible for the choice of candidates. You are …’
‘Gentlemen,’ the Bursar interposed, ‘let us not bicker about individual responsibilities. We are all responsible as members of the Council for the running of the College.’
‘Some of us are more responsible than others,’ the Praelector pointed out.
‘And we shall all share the blame for the mistakes that have been made in the past,’ continued the Bursar.
‘Mistakes? Who said anything about mistakes?’ demanded the Dean breathlessly.
‘I think that in the light of the Master’s …’ began the Senior Tutor.
‘Damn the Master,’ the Dean snarled, struggling to his feet. ‘Damn the man. Let us stop talking about mistakes. I said he must be stopped. I didn’t say we had to surrender to the swine.’ He waddled to the head of the table, portly, belligerent and stubborn, like some crimson toad and with all that creature’s resilience to the challenges of climate. The Senior Tutor hesitated in the face of his colleague’s revitalized obstinacy. ‘But …’ he began. The Dean raised a hand for silence.
‘He must be stopped,’ he said. ‘For the time being perhaps we must accept his proposals, but for the time being only. In the short run we must use the tactics of delay, but only in the short run.’
‘And then?’ the Senior Tutor asked.
‘We must buy time,’ continued the Dean. ‘Time to bring influence to bear upon Sir Godber and time to subject his own career to the scrutiny he has seen fit to apply to the customs and traditions of the College. No man who has spent as long as Sir Godber Evans in public life is wholly without fault. It is our business to discover the extent of his weaknesses.’
‘Are you saying that we should …’ the Praelector began.
‘I am saying that the Master is vulnerable,’ the Dean went on, ‘that he is corrupt and that he is open to influence from the powers that be. The tactics he has used this afternoon, tactics of blackmail, are a symptom of the corruption I am referring to. And let us not forget that we have powerful friends.’
The Senior Tutor pursed his lips and nodded. ‘True. Very true, Dean.’
‘Yes, Porterhouse can justly claim its share of eminent men. The Master may dismiss our protests but we have powerful allies,’ said the
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