I say seemed, because, as a matter of fact, something still remains to be told in the history of this eventful day; but before proceeding to the close of the chapter, it will be well to say a word or two with regard to a certain person connected with it who is as yet unknown to the reader.
Ronleigh was fortunate in having a staff of masters who won the respect and confidence of the boys. Some poor-spirited fellows there are who will always abuse those set in authority over them; but at Ronleigh there was happily, on the whole, a mutual good understanding, such as might exist in a well and wisely disciplined regiment between officers and men.
Exceptions, however, prove the rule; and when at the commencement of the present winter term a new junior master had come to take charge of the Third Form, it was evident from the first that before long there would be trouble. Mr. Grice was a very short man, with a pompous, hectoring manner, which was, somehow, especially exasperating to fellows who stood a good head and shoulders taller than the master. His rule was founded on the fear of punishment, and the sceptre which he wielded was a small black note-book, in which he entered the names of all offenders with an accompanying "Hundred lines, Brown!" or "Write the lesson out after school, Smith." Lastly, Mr. Grice was not a gentleman. Boys, I know, pay little attention to the conventionalities, and are seldom found consulting books on etiquette; but those who have been well brought up, and accustomed at home to an air of refinement, are quick to detect ill-breeding and bad manners in those older than themselves, and who "ought to know better." So it came about that Mr. Grice was unpopular, and the boys in his class bemoaned their fate, and called him uncomplimentary nicknames.
We left the three friends standing at the corner of Broad Street. The church clock had just struck the quarter-past five, and by this time it was dark, though the street was lit up by the gas-lamps and the long rows of shop windows.
"I hope no one sees us," said Jack Vance. "I'm mud all over. We must look sharp, or we shall be late."
"Hullo!" exclaimed Diggory, "look out! Here's that wretched little
Grice coming; there, he's stopped to look into the ironmonger's shop.
We must dodge past him somehow, or he'll want to know where we've
been."
The trio crossed quickly over to the opposite side of the street, and hurried off at full speed in the direction of the school.
All boys were supposed to be on the school premises by half-past five, and at that time the door leading to the outer world was locked by the prefect for the day.
Oaks, who happened to be on duty, was standing in the passage talking to Allingford when the three juveniles arrived, out of breath and flushed with running.
"Hullo, you kids! where have you been?" inquired the captain.