"I ought to bear you a grudge, Gerry, for losing the Cup for my dorm," said Alice. "I'm afraid you've got to pay for it, though. Your nose will be black and blue to-morrow."
"Oh no, it won't," said Muriel reassuringly. "I'm going to take her straight up to Sister when we get in, and get some of that wonderful lotion of hers to bathe it with. I got an awful whack on my forehead the end of last season, but when I put Sister's stuff on it the swelling went down almost at once, and it was hardly coloured at all."
"Gerry's nose will be awfully stiff and uncomfortable, though, for a day or two, however wonderful Sister's stuff may be," observed Monica.
"I don't mind," said Gerry happily. And indeed she was so relieved at having redeemed herself in the eyes of the head girl in the matter of hockey-playing, that she really would not have cared very much if her nose had been broken instead of merely bruised. She walked on down the field amongst the seniors, feeling that she would not at the moment have changed places with any other girl in the whole of Wakehurst Priory.
It was some ten minutes' walk across the hockey field back to the school. The three prefects and Gerry were well in the van of the returning girls. A few Fourth Form children were some distance ahead, but the majority of the school were descending more leisurely in the rear. Just at this moment, however, the half-dozen girls in front turned, and began running back, waving their arms and shouting as they ran.
"What on earth's the matter with those kids?" said Alice in surprise. "Have they gone quite mad?"
"They are shouting out something," said Muriel. "Can you hear what it is? Why! There's Bennett running, too. And some other men! One of them's got a stick—no, it's a gun! They're chasing Bruno, surely. What in the world can be the matter?"
There was an iron railing to the left of the hockey field which enclosed the hockey ground itself from the neighbouring meadows. The girls in front were running hard towards this railing, still shouting their words of warning to the approaching girls. This time they were near enough for Muriel to catch what they were saying.
"Mad dog! They're shouting out 'Mad dog!' Quick, make for the railings! Bruno's gone mad!" she cried to her companions.
She turned round and ran back towards the oncoming school, shouting out her warning. Alice and Monica followed her, and, seizing a bunch of small girls just behind, urged them towards the railings. The rest of the school had taken alarm by this time, and were making a wild dash for safety, but of the two or three hundred girls who were pouring down from the field, it was obvious that many of them could not be got out of the way in time. Besides, there was nothing to prevent Bruno from altering his course and making for the railings too. The men chasing the dog were too far behind to risk a shot with so many children about. If they should miss the dog, they could not fail to hit one of the girls when so many of them were in the direct line of fire.