"Yes, yes."
"I knew well enough you'd say 'Yes.' Well, the next point is, what's the answer to be?"
"I think there can be only one answer," exclaimed Newall, speaking for the first time. "The Fifth Form Gargoyle is quite ready to meet the Fifth Form Beetle at the sand-pit, Cranstead Common, to-morrow afternoon, three sharp."
At once a cheer broke out in favour of Newall's suggestion.
"As Parfitt wrote the elegant little note which has brought this storm upon us, he'd better write the answer," said Hasluck.
This suggestion also met with general approval. Parfitt hesitated, but at length wrote the note as dictated by Newall. Hasluck read it out.
"Will it do?" he questioned when he had finished.
"Agreed, agreed!" was the answering shout. Paul alone remained silent. His face was unusually grave. He had come there on a peaceful mission, and the peaceful mission had ended in a declaration of war.
"There you are, Mellor; take that and give it to your brother Beetles, with the compliments and best wishes of the Fifth," he said, as he folded up the note and handed it to Mellor. "Now cut!"
"Cut isn't the word," said Arbery, as he opened the door. "Crawl!"