“Your tone signifies that you still do not thoroughly understand the great punishment you have brought upon the school. That decides for me the one point upon which I was still uncertain. It is clear that there is no hope of an altered attitude on your part. Let me then add this. I have explained that all sports will cease and I have no intention of relaxing my decision. It follows that every coach at present here will be unemployed, and will therefore leave the school. Since there will be no games, and no coaches, there will be no necessity for a games master. Mr Nicholson will therefore go to another school. And it will be your fault that the school has lost him.” He paused. “Now that you understand the punishment that your bravado has brought upon those whom you essayed to lead,” said he, “you may go.”
There was a moment’s silence. Their eyes met.
Then Rouse turned and out of the room he went; slowly, stiffly, as one who walks in his sleep.
CHAPTER XIX
THE CUP OF BITTERNESS
The Headmaster’s forecast of how the school would feel when they woke up on the morning after, and of how they would take the news, was very tolerably correct. Some heard the truth overnight and scarcely slept. But it was not till breakfast-time on the Sunday morning that the report could properly be spread. By dinner-time it had found its way into the farthest corners of the school, and that everybody knew was evident by the bump with which the school’s good spirits fell. Most boys had wakened in excellent humour, refreshed after a good night, eager to talk over with others the outstanding points of that great game, and full of satisfaction at having been at the school during a term when such an historic match had been played.
They were ready, too, for fresh sensations. That followed as a matter of course. Very few really believed that that expedition could have taken place without somehow coming to the notice of the Head, and the air was alive with surmise as to what he would do.
The news of what he had already done hit them with a thud.
At first it seemed incredible—that part which concerned Toby, anyway. And then when confirmation of it came from every available source, and there could be no further doubt, the school bowed their heads to the blow, and Harley passed into mourning.
There were many who could not believe that there was not some way out. The ban on games was not so very terrible. But that, because of that match with Rainhurst, Toby Nicholson should go, and with him the school boxing coach and the gym. instructors, was too shockingly bad to be true. Everybody had known why Toby had gone to town that day. He had known about the match, and so he had kept away. Now he was to pay the penalty for not denouncing it. For a while brains were dulled. The brightest boys could think of no way of escape save humble apology to the Head or open riot. The latter could scarcely save Toby; it might in the end only serve to aggravate the general position, and the former was almost more than they could visualise. It would, in any case, only mean sacrificing Rouse to save Toby.
In every study friends sat together in silent wretchedness. There was scarcely a face in all the school that had not grown noticeably longer since morning. Rouse was little to be seen. A few had passed him walking across the open, with head erect and a face that was quite expressionless, but none except seniors had had a word with him, and even they could not guess accurately what his real feelings were. That he was keeping them to himself, and that he was very badly hit, was the most they could report.