"We'd better go in and speak to them," said Montagu; "at any rate, they've no right to disturb us all night. Will you come?"
"I'll join you," said Owen; "though I'm afraid my presence won't do you much good."
The three boys went to the door of Eric's study, and their knock could not at first be heard for the noise. When they went in they found a scene of reckless disorder; books were scattered about, plates and glasses lay broken on the floor, beer was spilt on all sides, and there was an intolerable smell of brandy.
"If you fellows don't care," said Duncan, sharply, "Rose or somebody'll be coming up and catching you. It's ten now."
"What's that to you?" answered Graham, with an insolent look.
"It's something to me that you nice young men have been making such a row that none of the rest of us can hear our own voices, and that, between you, you've made this study in such a mess that I can't endure it."
"Pooh!" said Pietrie; "we're all getting such saints, that one can't have the least bit of spree now-a-days."
"Spree!" burst in Montagu indignantly; "fine spree, to make sots of yourselves with spirits; fine spree, to----"
"Amen!" said Wildney, who was perched on the back of a chair; and he turned up his eyes and clasped his hands with a mock-heroic air.
"There, Williams," continued Montagu, pointing to the mischievous-looking little boy; "see that spectacle, and be ashamed of yourself, if you can. That's what you lead boys to! Are you anxious to become the teacher of drunkenness?"