Mr. Mainwearing comprehended. He came and laid one hand on Peter. “Time you saw some of your schoolfellows,” he said.
Under his guiding pressure Peter was impelled along a passage, through an archway, across an empty but frowsty schoolroom in which one solitary small boy sat and sobbed grievously, and so by way of another passage to a kind of glass back-door from which steps went down to a large gravelled space, behind the high wall that carried the black and gold board. In the corner were parallel bars. A group of nine or ten boys were standing round these bars; they were all clad in the same sort of grey flannels that Peter was wearing, and they had all started round at the sound of the opening of the door. One shock-headed boy, perhaps a head taller than any of the rest, had a great red mouth beneath a red nose.
“Boys!” shouted Mr. Mainwearing; “here’s a new chum. See that he learns his way about a bit, Probyn.”
“Yessir!” said the shock-headed boy in a loud adult kind of voice.
Mr. Mainwearing gave Peter a shove that started him down the steps towards the playground, and slammed the door behind him.
Most of these boys were bigger than any boys that Peter had ever known before. They looked enormous. He reckoned some must be fifteen or sixteen—quite. They were as big as the biggest Sheldrick girl. Probyn seemed indeed as big as a man; Peter could see right across the playground that he had a black smear of moustache. His neck and wrists and elbows stuck out of his clothes.
Peter with his hands in his new-found pockets walked slowly towards these formidable creatures across the stony playground. They regarded him enigmatically. So explorers must feel, who land on a strange beach in the presence of an unknown race of men.
§ 6
“Come on, fathead!” said Probyn as he drew near.
Peter had expected that tone. He affected indifference.