"I'm not going," muttered one boy, while the rest sought to evade the challenge with a laugh.
"See here," continued Liddle, in the same boastful manner, "one of you 'Foxes' have a shot. There doesn't seem to be a ha'porth of go among the lot of you!—Now then, Coverthorne, you can ride, so you're the very man. You used to be ready for a lark, but now, for all this half, you seem to have turned into a regular old woman."
Miles's cheek reddened with an angry flush.
"I'm no more a coward than you are yourself," he answered; "but if you choose to do a senseless thing, that's no reason why every one else in the room should follow suit."
"Oh, that's a fine excuse! Why don't you say at once that you're afraid?"
The dialogue was continued in much the same strain, Liddle flinging taunts with ever-increasing bitterness, till I could see that Miles was rapidly losing his temper. At length, perhaps rather weakly, the latter gave way, and declared himself ready to repeat the previous night's performance.
"I'll do it," he said, "if any one will go with me."
Just at the moment, from a boy's point of view, it seemed to me that friendship demanded that I should volunteer to share the risk.
"All right, Miles," I exclaimed. "I'll go with you; it's simple enough."
The other "Foxes" rewarded me with a subdued "Hear, hear!" For their own sakes they were eager enough for us to make the attempt, but I confess that I would gladly have recalled the promise almost as soon as it was made. From the very start, when I found myself crawling along the top of the wall against which the outhouses were built, I heartily wished myself safely back in the dormitory. Still, there was nothing to be gained by anticipating disaster until the worst actually happened, and we both pretended to make light of the whole matter. What such fellows as Liddle and Rigby had done we could certainly accomplish; and, after all, if we had an ordinary amount of luck, the risk was not great.