The party turned to obey, when Mr Parrett added, “Three of you, Telson, Parson, and Lawkins, remain a moment.”

The other two went off, leaving their three comrades standing at the end of the table, wondering what on earth was coming next.

Mr Parrett’s manner changed as he turned to them. He became embarrassed, and spoke almost nervously.

“You three,” he said, “jumped in after me this afternoon, did you not?”

“Yes, please, sir,” said Telson; “Parson was first, sir.”

Mr Parrett rose from his seat, and, without saying a word, shook hands with each one of them, greatly to their astonishment and confusion.

“You can go now,” said the master, when the ceremony was concluded; “good-night, boys.”

“Good-night, sir,” said they, and filed out of the room.

It was some time before Parson and Telson, as they walked slowly back along the passage, could find words suitable to the occasion. Then Telson said, “Well, that was a rum thing of him to do!”

“What did he mean?” asked Parson.

“Goodness knows. But, I say, it’s a jolly soak being stopped the river, though.”

“Yes, and having to get a ‘permit’ when the time is up. I’d sooner not go on than beg a ‘permit’ of the captain.”

“I wonder what he’ll say to us to-morrow,” said Telson. “He won’t lick us, eh?”

“He’d better not,” said Parson. “You and I could lick him easy.”

“I suppose he’ll give us a howling impot. I say I’m getting fagged of impots. I’ve had four this week.”

“I’ve had three,” sighed Telson. “Heigho! Willoughby’s going to the dogs. I’ve a good mind to cut the whole concern.”

And so in rather desponding mood the two friends separated, and Telson had an exciting chase across the quadrangle to avoid two monitors who were prowling about there (as he concluded) for the express purpose of “potting” him.

In this, however, he was mistaken. The two monitors were Gilks of the schoolhouse and Silk of Welch’s, who were taking the air this hot summer evening, and thinking and talking of anything but Master Telson.

“I tell you,” said Gilks, “I detest the fellow.”

“You detest such a lot of fellows, Gilks,” said Silk.

“I know I do,” said Gilks, “but I hate Riddell more than the lot put together.”

“I should have thought he was rather an inoffensive duffer,” suggested Silk.

“That’s just the worst of it. I’d give anything to catch him out in anything that wasn’t quite square, just to pay him out for his sickening priggishness. Why,” he exclaimed, with increasing anger in his tone, “what do you think he did the other day, long before he was captain, or had any pretence to give himself airs? He pulled me up before all the fellows for — well, for using—”

“For swearing?” said Silk.

“Yes, if you like. For swearing. What business is it of his what I say? I should like to know.”

“Usen’t Wyndham to be down on fellows for swearing too?” asked Silk.

“Yes, he was,” said Gilks (who had good reason to know); “but he had a right to do it. This cub hasn’t.”

“What did Riddell say?”

“What did he say? He said it didn’t make what I said any better worth hearing for sticking in an oath, and that— Oh, I don’t know what precious impudence he didn’t give me.”

“Ha, ha,” said Silk, “it wasn’t bad. But I agree with you, the fellow is a prig—”

“I know I mean to make a stand now,” said Gilks. “He shan’t stick up his sanctimonious nose over us all, now he’s captain, if I can help it.”

“Why, what will you do?” asked Silk.

“Do! I’ll punch his head the first time he dare lecture me.”

“My dear fellow,” said Silk, “don’t be such a fool. You won’t do a bit of good by that. If you do want to pay him out, pay him out in his own coin.”

“How do you mean?” inquired Gilks.

“I mean, keep a sharp lookout till you catch his holiness tripping.”

“But the beggar never does trip. He’s so vilely careful, he never gives a chance,” growled Gilks.

“Awfully uncivil of him, when he knows how grateful we should be to him,” said Silk, laughing. “Never mind, old man, keep in with him if you can. Something’s sure to turn up. He won’t suspect you, as you’re in the schoolhouse; and we ought to be able to manage to put a spoke in his wheel somehow.”

“Wish you may do it,” said Gilks. “Anyhow, I dare say you are right; it’s no use flaring up too soon, if there is a chance of doing him. By the way, Fairbairn’s pretty nearly as bad as Riddell; they’re a pair, you know.”

“Yes, but Fairbairn’s in the boat,” said Silk.

“So he is; and what’s more, he’s got a spite against me, and wants to turn me out of it.”

“Why?”

“He says I don’t do enough work. I should like to know how a fellow is to work behind a sanctimonious ass like him?”

“I hear the schoolhouse boat isn’t a bad one, even without Wyndham,” said Silk.

“Pretty fair. But if I’m in it I’ll see it doesn’t win,” said Gilks.

“What a nice boy you are, to be sure! I suppose you’ve a bet on Parrett’s, like me?”

“No, I haven’t,” said Gilks, “but I want it to win all the same, because of Bloomfield. If Parrett’s gets to the head of the river, there’s all the better chance of getting Bloomfield for captain next term; and things would be far pleasanter then.”

“Yes. I don’t suppose Bloomfield’s very particular,” said Silk.

“Not he. You can make him do what you like. He’s not all the notions of his own that the Reverend Riddell has, hang him!”

“Well, old man,” said Silk, “as I said before, you’re a nice boy, and a sweet companion for a tender youth like me. Ha, ha! Good-night. Are you one of the deputation that’s going to present the petition in the morning?”

“Yes, I am,” said Gilks.

“Take my advice and back out of it. It won’t come to anything, and if you’re not mixed up in it our pious friends will think you are one of them, and that’ll pay. Do you twig? Good-night. You are a nice boy!”

So saying these two worthies separated.

Gilks acted on his friend’s advice, and contrived to be absent after chapel next morning, when it was proposed to present the petition to the doctor. He managed to invent some excuse for his desertion which made it appear it was unavoidable. Nevertheless it was a good deal complained of, because he had been the only representative of the schoolhouse who had promised to go with the others to the doctor.

However it was decided not to postpone the ceremony any further. As it was, one or two were beginning to have their doubts as to its wisdom, and Game and those like him, who were the prime movers in the matter, began to fear the whole thing might fall through.

So, directly after morning chapel, the deputation, consisting of three, marched boldly to the doctor’s library and knocked at the door.

“Come in,” said Dr Patrick.

He was surprised to see three monitors obey the invitation. It was very rarely that a petition was presented from the school to the head master at Willoughby. Once, some years ago, a petition signed by the entire school, from the captain down to the junior fag, praying for a holiday in honour of an old Willoughbite having led the British troops to victory in a great battle, had been presented and granted. And once since then, a petition from the monitors of each house requesting that the head of each house might be allowed to use the cane when necessary, instead of the captain of the school only, had been presented and declined.

Now came a third petition, signed by certain monitors of two houses, asking the doctor to withdraw one captain and substitute another.

“What is it?” asked the head master.

“A petition, sir,” said Game, handing the momentous document in.

The doctor opened it and glanced at it with a puzzled look, which soon darkened into a frown.

“What is all this?” he asked, looking up.

His aspect was not promising. Nevertheless it was necessary for some one to speak, and Game therefore blurted out, “We don’t think Riddell will make a good captain, sir, and—” and here stopped.