Doctor Bewley changes Sides.
As the two lads reached the main street, chatting over their adventure, something occurred which made Glyn turn his head sharply, and as he did so a small boy shouted, “Hooray!”
It was the little spark applied to the touch-hole of a cannon, and a loud roar followed.
“Here, let’s go back,” cried Singh. “The Rajah’s broken loose again.”
“No, no,” cried Glyn. “They are shouting at us.”
“What for? What have we done?”
“I suppose it’s because we rode the elephant. Here, come along; let’s turn down here and get round by the fields.”
The young Indian generally gave way to his English friend; and, obeying directly, they hurried down the first turning, but in vain. A crowd of men and boys were after them, cheering loudly, and this crowd was snowball-like in the way in which the farther it rolled the more it grew. So that in spite of all their efforts they were literally hunted right up to the Doctor’s gates, where they arrived hot and breathless to find a larger crowd than before which had gathered to satisfy themselves with the rather empty view of the damaged hedge, the big footmarks, and a wheelwright and some of Ramball’s men getting the great bottomless elephant-van into condition for dragging to the show-field.
As soon as the two boys came in sight there was a rush made for them, and amidst deafening cheering and vain efforts to hoist them shoulder-high and carry them into the playground, they managed to reach this resort at last, and join their schoolfellows in keeping out the excited mob, some of whom, the youngest of course, began to decorate the brick wall with their persons like so many living statues. And then to the two lads’ disgust, the whole school, with the exception of Slegge, and half-a-dozen of his party who wanted to join in the ovation but did not dare in the presence of their tyrant, began to cheer them as loudly as the boys without. Several of the younger juniors began to idolise them in a very juvenile way by hanging on to them, slapping their backs, and shaking hands.
Altogether it was a strange mingling of the pleasant and unpleasant, the former predominating with Singh, who for the first time since he had joined the school found himself thoroughly liked.