When he spoke again, his voice had changed, subtly, but unmistakably.
"You were afraid," he said, "that I had something worse—ah, yes, unspeakably worse—to tell you. Thank God, this is not one of those cases from which every clean, manly boy must recoil in disgust. But, on that account, don't blind yourselves to the issues involved. This playing of bridge—a game you have seen your own people playing night after night, perhaps—is harmless enough in itself. I can say more—it is a game, and hence its fascination, which calls into use some of the finest qualities of the brain: judgment, memory, the faculty of making correct deductions, foresight, and patience. It teaches restraint; it makes for pleasant fellowship. It does all this and more, provided that it never degenerates into gambling. The very moment that the game becomes a gamble, if any one of the players is likely to lose a sum greater than he can reasonably afford to pay, greater than he would cheerfully spend upon any other form of entertainment, then bridge becomes cursed. And because you boys have not the experience to determine the difference between a mere game and a gamble, card-playing is forbidden you, and rightly so. Now, let us consider what has happened. A stupid, foolish fellow, playing with boys infinitely cleverer than himself, has lost a sum of money which he could not pay. To obtain the means of paying it, he deliberately forged a letter and a signature. And then followed the inevitable lying—lie upon lie. That is always the price of lies—'to lie on still.'
"I would mitigate the punishment, if I could, but I must think of the majority. This sort of malignant disease must be cut out. Two of the three offenders are young men; they were leaving at the end of this term. They will leave, instead—to-day. The third boy is much younger. Because of his youth, I have been persuaded by his house-master to give him a further chance."
Again he paused. Then he exclaimed loudly, "Scaife!"
Scaife stood up, very pale. "Here, sir!"
"Scaife, you will go into the Fourth Form Room,[31] and prepare to receive the punishment which no member of the Eleven should ever deserve."
John sat with his Form while the Head Master was addressing the School. Not far off was the Caterpillar, less cool than usual, so John remarked. His collar, for instance, seemed to be too tight; and he moved restlessly upon his chair. Many very brave men become nervous when a great danger has passed them by. Egerton said afterwards, "I felt like getting down a hole, and pulling the hole after me. Not my own. Some Yankee's, you know." Still, he displayed remarkable self-possession under trying circumstances. Two of Lovell's particular friends were seen to turn the colour of Cheddar cheese. But Desmond, so John noticed, grew red rather than yellow. Nor did he tremble, but his fists were clenched, and his eyes kindled.
As Scaife left the Speech-room, followed by Titchener (the provider of birches, whose duty it is to see that boys about to be swished are properly prepared to receive punishment), the boys began to shuffle in their places. But the Head Master held up his hand. It was then that Lovell's two particular friends, who had partially recovered, felt that the earth was once more slipping from under them.
"It takes four to play bridge." The Caterpillar's fingers went to his collar again. "In this case there must have been a fourth, possibly a fifth and a sixth. Not more, I think, because the secret was too well kept. We are confronted with the disagreeable fact that three boys are going to receive the most severe punishments I can inflict, and that another escapes scot-free. For I do not know the—name—of—the—fourth."