"Shame!" said several of the boys, and the cry was caught up by Bull and others.
"Shame, is it?" said Duncan, and his lip curled with scorn. "There's only one way to argue with, you fellows. Bull, if you, or any other boy, repeat that word, I'll thrash him. Here, Monty, come away from this disgraceful scene."
"I'm sick enough of it," said Montagu, "and am ready to stop if Williams is,--provided no one touches Wright."
"I'm sick of it too," said Eric sullenly.
"Then you two shall shake hands," said Duncan.
For one instant--an instant which he regretted till the end of his life--Montagu drew himself up and hesitated. He had been deeply wronged, deeply provoked, and no one could blame him for the momentary feeling: but Eric had observed the gesture, and his passionate pride took the alarm. "It's come to this, then," he thought; "Montagu doesn't think me good enough to be shaken hands with."
"Pish!" he said aloud, in a tone of sarcasm; "it may be an awful honor to shake hands with such an immaculate person as Montagu, but I'm not proud on the subject;" and he turned away.
Montagu's hesitation was but momentary, and without a particle of anger or indignation he sorrowfully held out his hand. It was too late; that moment had done the mischief, and it was now Eric's turn coldly to withdraw.
"You don't think me worthy of your friendship, and what's the good of grasping hands if we don't do it with cordial hearts?"
Montagu's lip trembled, but he said nothing, and quietly putting on his coat, waved back the throng of boys with a proud sweep of his arm, and left the room with Duncan.