The entertainment continued, and waxed more noisy than ever, the performers hammering the table with a ruler and two walking-sticks to add zest to the choruses.
Soon there came another interruption, very different in tone from the mild expostulation of the studious Browse. The door was violently shaken, and from without came the sharp, peremptory order of the school captain,—
"Look here, Thurston, just shut up; we've had enough of this horrible row for one night. Stop it, d'you hear?"
"All right," growled the owner of the study; "keep your hair on, old fellow!"
"Sh! steady on, Thirsty," said Fletcher, in a low tone. "Don't go too far, or he'll put a stop to our next merry meeting. I know Allingford, and he's rather a hard wall to run your head against."
"That confounded old Browse has gone and sneaked!" cried the other, with a flush of passion on his face. "Let's wait till Ally's gone, and then make a raid on the old stew-pot."
Hawley and Gull sprang to their feet with a murmur of assent; Fletcher shrugged his shoulders and remained silent.
"What we'll do is this," continued Thurston. "He sits with his back to the door. I'll pop in first and throw this tablecloth over his head; then, while I hold him down, you chaps upset the things and put out the light. Then we'll rush out all together, and he won't know for certain who did it."
Five minutes later the conspirators crept out into the passage, and tip-toed towards the door of the adjoining study. Fletcher lingered behind, and, instead of following the expedition, stole softly away in the opposite direction. Another moment, and the unfortunate Browse was struggling to rise from his chair, with his head enveloped in the tablecloth. Hawley and Gull, following immediately in rear of their leader, sent the table, with its load of books and writing materials, over with a crash, threw the chairs into different corners of the room, and were about to scatter the contents of the bookcase over the floor, when Allingford suddenly burst into the room, and stood glaring round like an angry lion.
With one swing of his right arm he sent Thurston staggering against the wall, and then, stepping forward without an instant's hesitation, he dealt each of the other marauders a swinging box on the ear.