Pip bore it all patiently, while he thought the matter over. Linklater was his friend, the one boy in Grandwich for whom he felt any real affection. He had an intense admiration for Linklater's superb brilliancy in many departments of school life, and especially for the readiness and vivacity that he himself lacked. They had fought their way up the school together, and had stood back to back in more than one tight place. The fact that "Link" was at present completely "off his rocker" was entirely due to the scurvy manner in which he had been treated by the Head—or rather by Braddy; for the Head, Pip admitted, was bound to back weak masters up. Link would inevitably recover his balance in time: at present allowances must be made for him.
However, there is a limit to all things. One evening, after the frost had lasted for nearly a month, the monitors were lingering over the tea-table in their own private apartment. A half-holiday for skating had been granted that day, and the monitors, pleasantly replete, reclined round the greatly lightened board, unwilling to drag themselves away from the débris of a fine veal-and-ham pie which somebody's "people" had kindly sent for somebody's birthday.
Suddenly the door was opened with a rapid, nervous flourish, and the Reverend James Chilford appeared on the threshold. It was plain that he was suffering from an attack of energy. For days he would leave his house to its own devices, and then, suddenly goaded to a sense of duty by some slight misdemeanour, would make a lightning descent upon his pupils, and, having thoroughly punished the wrong boy, disappear as suddenly as he came.
"Maxwell!" he exclaimed, in his high, querulous voice, to the head boy, "are you quite incapable of maintaining discipline in the house? Here I have a letter from the parents of Butler, complaining that their son is being shamefully and systematically bullied by an organised gang. I look to you to clear the matter up immediately. Come and report to me at nine o'clock that you have detected the offenders and soundly punished them!"
The door banged, and this paragon among house-masters was gone.
Maxwell looked round feebly.
"Well, what are we to do, you chaps?" he inquired, seeking to shift responsibility in his turn.
"What's the good of doing anything for a swine who doesn't knock at the door when he comes in?" grunted Blakely, the second monitor.
"I suppose we'd better have Butler in and ask him," said Maxwell, forced to take the initiative.
"Fat lot of good that would do," put in Pip. "He wouldn't dare to tell you even if he has been bullied, which I doubt."