A few days later I went into the library and picked out a volume from among the books and sat myself down to read. The thick curtains which hung before the far panes completely hid me from view, so that any one coming into the room might have thought it empty, unless they walked right up to the window.
I had not been there very long before someone did come in. I did not move, being interested in my book, while I was not expecting that any of the fellows would be looking for me.
The newcomers, for it sounded to me as if there were two, did not approach where I sat but took their places on a settee on the other side of the room. As soon as they began to talk, I knew it was Ferguson and Lacy, and on raising my eyes I could see them through a very narrow space between the curtains behind me and the wall.
They evidently thought themselves to be alone in the room, and not wishing to pose in the uncomfortable shape of an eavesdropper, I made up my mind to declare myself. But I could not resist the temptation to watch for a moment to see what they would do.
Ferguson was saying something of a jocular nature to Lacy, while he bent an affectionate smile upon him as he spoke. He held one of Lacy's hands in his and presently bent forward and touched the boy between the legs. Lacy pushed him away gently, saying, Not here, Don,” (his Christian name was Donald) “wait till we go to your room.”
But Ferguson laughed and said, “It's all right. No one will come in here,” and overcoming Lacy's very mild objections, he unfastened the lad's breeches and took out his cock. It was limp, as I could see, but Ferguson began to caress it, trying to make it stand up with more dignity.
I felt my position embarrassing now, for I had missed the right moment to make my presence known, and to do so after things had gone this length would be a very delicate matter.
I was in a quandary. The thought occurred to me to wait till they had gone, without betraying myself; but then I could not tell how long they would be there, and judging from appearances, they did not intend to hurry.
Then again, they might come over to the window when they had finished and this also would be very awkward for all of us. So I sat still, watching the pair. Something tickled my nostril so that I felt a sneezing fit coming on. I tried to stop the inclination but it was no use, and I had to give vent to a violent noise. I could hear the pair jump up with a start, and in another moment, Ferguson advanced to where I was.
“I didn't know you were here, Powerscourt; you kept very quiet.”
I assumed my most innocent expression and explained that I had been so deeply engrossed in my book that I had not noticed anyone entering the room.
“Oh, it's all right,” he said, and there was a tone of relief in his voice. “Only I made sure that the place was empty, and it gave me quite a startle when you sneezed.”
I was very glad the affair, which gave promise of some unpleasantness, had ended in this manner, but I had made a discovery and determined to put a leading question to Lacy when I had an opportunity.
The chance came one afternoon when I strolled into the bathing pavilion. There was no one there but Lacy, and after the interchange of a little conversation he asked if I would come onto the river with him for a little while.
The stream was broad enough to paddle about on and there were one or two small skiffs and punts kept there for us. We got into a punt and made our way slowly along with the current. It was a hot day and we did not go far before drawing up to the bank under the shade of a spreading tree.
The time and place suited for the occasion I had sought, so after some general talk I said, “How is Ferguson? You seem to be very friendly with him. I heard you call him Don when you were in the library the other day.”
He looked rather foolish for an instant and replied, “Ferguson went as white as a sheet when you sneezed. I was a bit flurried too; we both thought we were quite alone.”
“Yes, it must have made you feel funny,” I answered. “You wouldn't have been doing what you were, if you had thought anybody else was there.”
“What do you mean?” he said, turning his head.
“Oh well, I couldn't help seeing what you did,” I went on. “I wasn't spying on you, you know. I was there some time before you came in, so you can't blame me.”
“No, it was all Ferguson's fault; I told him what a fool he was. He ought to be more careful. It is a good thing that only you saw us. I shall see that we are not caught again.”
“Ferguson seemed to be amusing himself. It looked to me as if it wasn't the first time, by a long way. Come Lacy, you needn't be afraid of telling me. I shan't tell a word about it; it isn't likely that I should want to get you into a row – or Ferguson either. Do you often do anything like that with him?”
With only slight hesitation, Lacy told me his story.
“He took a fancy to me when I first came here, about eighteen months ago – and he has stuck to me ever since.
“At first he only used to give me stamps or coins for my collection and lend me books and so on; then he got more friendly and took me for walks with him. I didn't mind at all, as he was nice and things went on in this way for a good while.
“Sometimes he would take me to the beach for a swim; sometimes when I was having a bath, he would peep in while I was washing. I didn't care much at first for the way he would look me over when I was undressed, but I got used to that and actually began to like it. Then he gave me a standing invitation to come to his study whenever I liked, to do my 'prep' and I gradually got into the habit of going there regularly.
“He used to sit beside me to help me and was fond of fiddling about with my leg or arm, and that kind of thing. One day we were sitting together and I was doing a Greek exercise, and he was leaning on my shoulder, watching me. He had one hand on my leg and soon moved it close up against my thighs. I said to him, 'Don't, you're tickling me,' and laughed. He laughed too, and dug his fingers into my leg, making me jump.
“'Are you ticklish like that all over?' he asked and started to squeeze my leg about again.
“'Yes, indeed sir,' I said, 'though no one has done such a thing to me since I was a child.'
“'And of course you are a strapping young man of eighteen now, are you not?'
“'Yes I am, sir,' I responded.
“'And yet your manner is still so boyish, especially your cheerful laughter,' he mused. 'Which is the worst part? Is it up here?'
“Ferguson's soft and gentle fingers wriggled at my neck, and I must confess I got all giggly, and crunched my chin to my shoulder to block his movements.
“'Or how about here?' said Ferguson, and he slipped his hands beneath my arms and tickled me under my shoulders and down the sides of my chest.
“Chewing upon my tongue to keep from crying out with laughter, I put up quite a mock struggle to keep him away. His activities were loosening my shirt, and pulling it from my pants, and his merry jostling was certainly putting a funny feeling into my privates.
“Before long, my belt was undone, and the buttons to my pants were opened. Mr. Ferguson certainly does have a sly talent, as I barely noticed his intentions even as my chest and belly and privates were laid bare in the fray.
“Then he got hold of me right between the legs. I went all into a heap, the way he caught me, and I lost all control and laughed loudly as I tried to pull his hand away.
“'Don't make such a noise,' he said, but I could not help it. He was tickling me so much. Before I knew what he was going to do next, he had pulled my cock out directly. His playing about had made it come to a stand and as he looked at it, he cried, 'How very rude, Lacy; just look at it. You ought to have better manners,' said Ferguson.