"Well, Rexworth, and how do you feel to-day?"
Now, if Warren or Charlton had asked that question, there would have been nothing strange in it; but it was neither of the boys. It was Mr. Delermain, when the class was assembled; and Ralph, although he felt surprised, answered that he felt very well.
"Ah!" said the master, and he smiled. "Well, I am glad of that, for to-day you have to uphold the honour of the Fourth. You will not take your place for lessons as usual. The examination for the Newlet is to-day. You are to go to the Head's class-room immediately after prayers."
"Good luck to you, Rexworth," whispered Charlton, looking quite nervous; and Tom Warren patted him on the shoulder and added imploringly—
"Now, mind you keep cool, Ralph—keep quite cool. Don't get flustered if you cannot answer every question, and don't spend too much time over the easy ones. Answer them first, as briefly as you can, and then go for the others. Keep cool, old fellow, for the honour of the Fourth."
Certainly Ralph did feel just a trifle anxious and nervous; but he had worked hard, and felt pretty well grounded in his subjects, and he meant to do his best honestly.
So when prayers were over, he rose and went out of the class-room, while the boys, thinking that the occasion admitted of it, cried out aloud: "Good luck to you, Rexworth! Hope that you will succeed!"
"Jolly lot of fuss they make about that chap," sneered Dobson to the boy next him. "It is just a disgrace to let such a fellow as that sit for the Newlet."
"Especially when a bright, intellectual fellow like Dobson does not go in for it!" was the answer he received; and Dobson glowered and muttered something about his "cheek."
Somehow, Charlton could not get on as he ought to have done that morning. He was so anxious about Ralph, and he was so full of his father, and wondering whether he was all safe. Mr. Delermain had to rebuke him once or twice—he did not understand things like Warren did—and poor Charlton lost his place and got a bad mark; and somehow he could not help it, the tears would come into his eyes. Dobson saw it, and grinned. He sniffed, and drew his handkerchief out, pretending to wipe away tears and wring the water out on the floor. Mr. Delermain saw him, and Dobson got something to cry for. Six handers, and a bad mark. Dobson vowed to make Charlton suffer for it, as if it were his fault that he had been caned.