The first effect of this letter on Mr. Chowdler was to make him feel as if the solid ground were crumbling away beneath him; but, the next moment, his combative spirit reasserted itself, and, dashing to his writing-table, he scribbled off what he afterwards described as “a calm and dignified reply.”
Sir,
I think we may speak to each other in plain English. What you are pleased to call a request for my resignation, I call a notice of dismissal. I shall therefore exercise my right of appeal (see “Statutes,” p. 131, Schedule D, Clause 4). The Council must decide between us.
Yours, etc.,
H. Chowdler.
Mr. Flaggon verified the reference and found that, by an old and unrepealed regulation, Mr. Chowdler had indeed the right of appeal to the Council against dismissal. He therefore sent the following note:
Dear Mr. Chowdler,
I am informing the Chairman of the Council of my decision and of the reasons which have dictated it, by to-morrow evening’s post at latest. You must take whatever steps you think right.
Yours faithfully,
S. E. Flaggon.
The fat, as at least half-a-dozen people said spontaneously, was in the fire, and Chiltern could think and talk of nothing else. There was a general agreement that Chowdler’s behaviour at the meeting had passed the limits of decorum; but, while the seniors maintained that the headmaster should have ignored the offence in a man whose services to the school were so notorious and of such long standing, many of the juniors held that, if Flaggon didn’t give old Chowdler the boot, he was done for. There was an equal difference of opinion as to the probable issue of the appeal. The moderates thought that there was still room for compromise. Chowdler could withdraw his offensive remarks and then Flaggon could withdraw his notice of dismissal. Others, who knew Chowdler’s love of battle, were sure that he would fight it out to the end and win. Others, again, did not see how the Council could possibly throw over a headmaster whom they had so recently appointed.
To Mr. Plummer the whole episode was painful in the extreme, and the ideal of a united staff seemed farther off than ever. He was torn between two conflicting loyalties—loyalty to an official chief, and loyalty to a senior colleague. He expressed his inner feelings to Mr. Bent on one of their frequent walks, more from force of habit than because he expected to find a sympathetic listener.