A faint tinge of colour came to the pale cheek; the look of pain had gone from the face. The sight of Paul seemed to have put new life and vigour into him. The matron promptly noted the change, and was very pleased that she had taken upon herself the responsibility of admitting Paul into the room.
"There, there; you mustn't get excited, or I shall be blamed for letting Master Percival in to see you, and he won't come again, will you?"
"Of course I won't," answered Paul promptly.
"I'm not the least excited, only glad—glad—so glad!"
He repeated the word three times, to make sure there might be no mistake about it, and his thin fingers closed round Paul's, as though he feared he might slip away.
"I hope the other fellows haven't got into trouble through me?" he asked. "Mr. Weevil would never tell me anything."
"Oh, no; they've got off very lightly, so don't worry about that. Plunger is going about as cheeky as ever."
A faint smile flickered over the boy's face.
"Plunger's rare fun. He was really just as much terrified as I was when Baldry and the other fellows turned up as Indians on the 'desert island.' I can laugh at it now, though I didn't laugh much then."
He lay placidly with his hand in Paul's, then turned pleadingly to the matron.