But, no. Dr Hellyer grasped the chance afforded him by the fortuitous cycle of dates as a splendid opportunity for putting down what had been a yearly bête noir to him; and so, he rushed madly on to his fate.
After dinner in the refectory, on the third of the month—two days beforehand, so as to give them clear notice of his intentions, in order not be accused of taking them unawares, and causing them to lay out their savings uselessly—just as the boys were going to rush out of the room for their usual hour’s relaxation before afternoon school, he detained them, with a wave of his well-known fat arm and the sound of his rolling accents.
“Boys,” he cried, “wait a moment! I have—ah—determined that—ah—as Guy Fawkes’ day this year—ah—will be next Sunday, when—ah—of course—ah—you will be unable with any regard for the solemn associations—ah—of the—ah—Sabbath, be—ah—able to celebrate it in your usual fashion—ah—that—ah—you must—ah—postpone—ah—your—ah bonfire—ah—till next year.”
A loud murmur ran round the room at this, an expression of popular opinion which I had never heard previously in the school.
The master, however, was equal to the occasion.
“Silence!” he roared out at the pitch of his voice, making the ceiling ring again, dropping his “Ahs” and drowning the sibillation of the malcontents by sheer dint of making a superior amount of noise. “Any boy I catch hissing, or otherwise expressing disapproval of my orders, had better look out, that’s all! There will be no celebration of Guy Fawkes’ day here, do you hear me! No, neither this year, nor next year, nor any year again, so long as I am master of this school! You can disperse now; but, mark my words, any one found letting off a squib or cracker, or discovered to be in the possession of gunpowder, or other explosive compound, will have to render an account to me. Boys, you’re dismissed!”
Bless you, when Dr Hellyer ceased speaking there was a silence that could almost be felt, and we all sneaked out of the room with corresponding quietude—adjourning to the playground as if we were going to attend a funeral instead of going out for diversion!
But, it was a silence that meant mischief, a quietude that was next door to hatching a mutiny; and, when we had got outside, there was a general howl of indignation that the Doctor could not have helped hearing, although the door communicating with the house was closed and he was still in the refectory in front, while we were at the rear of the establishment.
Of course, as was natural at such a crisis, the boys grouped themselves into little coteries, considering what should be done in such an unlooked-for emergency. Even Slodgers, the sneak, pretended to be as angry as anybody, desiring to have revenge for the deprivation of our annual gala show; but Tom and I kept aloof from all, and held our own counsel, much to the disgust of Slodgers, as we could easily see, for the cur wanted to hear what we might suggest so that he could go and report to Dr Hellyer.
We were too wary birds for Slodgers, however; we were not going to be caught, like young pigeons, with his chaff—no, we knew better than that!