"Oh, save me!" he gasped. "Hurry up, sir! Take me away—before they come back!"
"What—what?" muttered the master, fully convinced that Redisham had gone off his head. "What do you mean?"
"The bandits, the bandits!" babbled Redisham. "They said they'd come back—"
"Come back?" queried the dazed master. "The bandits? Let me go! I don't understand—"
"Oh, hurry up, hurry up," murmured Monty, in an agony of apprehension. "They've got pistols, and everything, and they'll get ten pounds for you if they catch you. It's awful! Come back to the school, sir—hurry!"
"Back to the school? Redisham, wake up! You must be dreaming—we're at the school now, and I want to know what you're doing in the boot-room at this time of night."
"You—what?" asked Monty Redisham, putting his hand to his head and staring round wildly. "Are we at the College?"
"Of course we are! Where else did you think you were?"
"But I thought—I thought," gasped Redisham, still failing to understand. "Then they didn't kidnap me?"
"No, no; of course they didn't."