“So much the better. One bully the less.”
“Oh, that’s your tune? Take that.” The buckle of the brace descended sharply on Walter’s back, drawing blood; the next instant he had wrested it out of Harpour’s hand, and returned the blow.
The scuffle had awakened the rest. Walter jumped out of bed, and was hurrying on his trousers and slippers, when Harpour knocked him down.
“Fair play, Harpour,” said Henderson and Franklin, angrily seizing Harpour’s arms; “you’re surely not going to fight him, Walter?”
“Yes; see fair play, you fellows; Cradock, you will, won’t you? Fair play is all I want. Flip, you see that Jones tries no mean dodge. Now, Harpour, are you ready? Then take that.”
Walter hit him a steady blow in the face, and the fight between these unequally-matched combatants—a boy not fifteen against a much stronger boy of seventeen—began. The result could not be dubious. Walter fought with indomitable pluck; it was splendid to see the sturdiness with which he bore up under the blows of Harpour’s strong fist, which he could only return at intervals. He was tremendously punished, while Harpour was barely touched, except by one well-directed blow which flashed the fire out of his eyes. At last he dealt Walter a heavy blow full on the forehead; the boy reeled, caught hold of the wash-hand stand to stay his fall and dragged it after him on the floor with a thundering crash, dashing the jug and basin all to shivers.
The smash brought in Mr Robertson, whose rooms were nearest to Number 10. He opened his eyes in amazement as he came in. On one of the beds lay the two masks and dark lantern which had been used to frighten Eden; on the floor, supported by Franklin and Henderson, sat poor Walter, his nose streaming with blood, and his face horribly bruised and disfigured; Harpour sheepishly surveyed his handiwork; and Jones, on the first alarm, had rushed back to bed, covered himself with blankets, and lay to all appearance fast asleep.
“Evson! what’s all this?” asked the master in astonishment.
Walter, sick and giddy, was in no condition to answer; but the position of affairs was tolerably obvious.
“Is this your doing?” asked Mr Robertson of Harpour, very sternly, pointing to Walter.