No doubt, the fun of the thing had been too much for the boys, in their holiday mood of thoughtlessness, and they stood looking sheepish, but Mr Harford was very stern and sharp with them.
“Lads, do you think that, if you could play such a trick, you can be in a fit state to take solemn vows upon you?”
No one spoke up except Fred Allen. “We didn’t do ’em no harm,” he said.
“No harm! To disturb all good thoughts in their minds and your own, and drive out all serious impressions by this mischievous trick! Now, will any one come forward and say he is sorry?”
Mr Harford waited, but no one stirred. He bade the girls get in again, and Pucklechurch drive them on. He waited again, but no one spoke. Indeed, Allen and another big youth were seen making for a gap in the hedge.
“Will no one say he is sorry for what was an idle trick, but very wrong when you ought to be thinking how you would be giving yourselves up to God?”
They stood like stocks, and Captain Carbonel said, “Has no one the grace to regret a very improper and thoughtless action?”
Still no one moved.
“Then,” said the clergyman, “there is no choice left to me. It would be profanation to take persons in such a mood to make vows, and kneel to receive God’s grace, which they evidently make light of. Whoever will not come and apologise must go home.”
There was no movement among the white round frocks. Boys are like sheep: what one does, the others do, and few are to be found to stand alone. Mr Harford looked anxiously at Johnnie Hewlett and one or two more, from whom he expected better things, but they only looked down, with their hands in their pockets and sullen faces; and Captain Carbonel held up his watch to show that they should all be too late. There was nothing to be done but to return to their seats, and urge the post-boy to hurry on.