Colonel Silsbee started from his chair, and the blood rushed violently to his face.
“Is it possible!” he exclaimed.
“Yes; I just saw them from my window. If you’ll step this way, you can see them. They’re not yet out of sight.”
“I prefer not to see them,” said the principal, sinking back into his chair. The blood had already receded, and left an unusual pallor on his face.
“I didn’t know but you might want some of us to hurry out and intercept their flight,” continued Mr. Graydon, earnestly.
“No, I don’t think that would be wise. Let them go; they’ll repent of it sooner if allowed to take their own course. I’m sorry, very sorry. It’s an almost unpardonable offence.”
Other teachers now came in from the hall, and Colonel Silsbee continued: “Our policy, gentlemen, will be to conduct the school as usual, and to take no notice of the affair until the boys return. They will doubtless be with us again before night, and then we will consult as to what shall be done. Mr. Graydon, will you learn if the drummer has gone, and if so, will you find some one to beat the school-call?”
Mr. Graydon hurried away, and, after a few more words, the other teachers passed to their respective rooms.
In the mean time there was the most intense excitement among the boys who had remained. Some of them had gone to the highest windows of the building to watch the fleeing rebels; others were examining the fence where the runaways had leaped over or crawled through; and still others were gathered in the hall and about the grounds, discussing the marvellous event with bated breath.