As they reached the foot of the Rectory steps, Finch turned. “I’m not going in,” he exclaimed.
“Pardon me, you are, and at once.”
“I’m not. This is the end. I am done with it. I’m going to chuck it all. Say what you please, the time for browbeating, scaring me is gone. I’m off.”
“Where are you going?” cried the master in alarm.
“It doesn’t matter. You will never see me again.” With that he turned, and ran rapidly across the campus down the hill.
Mr. Roylston strained his eyes for a moment after the fleeing figure, then ran hastily up the steps, and knocked at the door of the Doctor’s study.
Doctor Forester himself opened the door, and drew the agitated master within. Deering, Lawrence and Clavering were sitting before the study fire. They had risen and were standing.
“What is the matter?” asked the Head quickly.
Mr. Roylston forgot the boys’ presence. “A serious thing—a very serious thing. Finch, just now, in my study, attacked me with the most wanton, intemperate abuse. I brought him to you—but here—at the very door he turned and fled....”
“Yes—fled—why—where?”