“H’m! So this is how you are to be trusted!” remarked Miss Gibbs tartly, advancing towards the scene of the beano, and hastily casting an eye over the empty tins and crumby remains of the repast. “Move this rubbish away, and push those beds back to their places. Now get into bed, every one of you! Not a single sound more is to be heard to-night. We’ll settle up this matter to-morrow.” 105
Having seen each occupant of the dormitory ensconced between her sheets (Cynthia did not dare to complain that hers were sardiny!) Miss Gibbs went back to her own room, leaving the door wide open. With an enraged dragon in such close vicinity the girls did not venture to stir, and silence reigned for the rest of the night. At the first coming of the dawn, however, Raymonde rose with infinite precaution, and stole barefoot along the passage to remove her wire and screws from the oak door. She accomplished that task without discovery, and, after hiding the screw-driver behind a wardrobe, crept back to bed.
Nineteen subdued penitents, clothed in mental sackcloth and ashes, went down to breakfast next morning. Their fears were not without foundation, for when Miss Beasley returned at ten o’clock they were summoned to the most unpleasant interview they ever remembered, from which the more soft-hearted of them emerged sobbing. They spent Saturday afternoon in the schoolroom writing punishment tasks, while the monitresses went boating on the river. It was trying to see Daphne and Hermie coming downstairs in their nice white dresses and blue ties, and to know that they themselves were debarred the excursion. They hung about the hall sulkily.
“It’s your own faults,” moralized Veronica. “After that disgraceful business on Thursday, you couldn’t expect anything else. We heard you plainly enough, and we were utterly disgusted. I’d like to know who locked that passage door. I have my suspicions,” with an eye on Raymonde.
The babyish innocence of Raymonde’s face at 106 that moment might have served an artist as a model for a child angel.
“Have you? It’s a pity to harbour suspicion!” she returned sweetly. “We ought to learn to trust our schoolfellows! I loathe Veronica,” she added in a whisper to Ardiune, as the monitress tripped cheerily to the door.