And I said:
“Please, sir, we arranged the words ‘Doctor Dunston is a Brick!’”
And he said:
“Excellent! Pithy and concise if a little familiar. I only hope you all echo that sentiment--every one of you. Send Tomkins to me, and tell the other fellows there is cake and lemonade going in the dining-hall.”
Just as if the other fellows didn’t know it! But everybody gave three cheers for the Doctor and Mrs. Dunston, and I started to find Nubbs; and the policemen made the cads go, though they went reluctantly.
I looked long for Nubby, and at last found him all alone in the gym. One bit of candle was burning, which looked frightfully poor after all the brilliance of the fireworks, and Nubbs had got the parallel bars under the flying rings, and was standing on them--I mean the bars.
“What the Dickens are you doing, Nubby?” I said.
And he answered:
“It’s no jolly good attempting to stop me now, because it’s too late. My life is ruined, and my father was there too to see it ruined; and I’m going to hang myself, as every convenience for hanging is here.”
Mind you, he would have done it. Knowing Tomkins as I do, and his great ingeniousness, I don’t mind swearing that he would have been a hung chap in another minute. So I told him; but, though doubtful, he decided to put it off, anyway. I even got him to promise he wouldn’t hang himself at all if his father believed his innocence about the set piece. And Crewe, the head-master under the Doctor, and old Briggs and Thompson got us in a corner--Nubbs and Hodges and me--and we solemnly vowed we knew nothing of it; and Crewe went down to the Merivale Trumpet and made the reporter put in the original words when it came out; and Thompson explained to Mrs. Dunston how some evil-disposed, wicked person had tampered with the set piece, and begged her not to wound the feelings of the Doctor by telling him; and the Sixth hushed it up among the kids; and I sneaked a bit of cake for Wilson, and went up after the row was over and told him everything, down to the burning of Browne’s boots.