Forth it rolled, deep-voiced and solemn, sung in the original Latin, in which it had been composed years ago by a gifted graduate: “Aut Vincere, Aut Mori!”—“Either We Conquer, or We Die!”
It was the rallying cry to the battle that confronted the college.
[CHAPTER XIII]
THE FIRST GAME
Silence followed what was probably the most remarkable scene that had ever taken place at chapel in the history of Randall. A deep, heart-felt silence, which was almost as impressive as the unexpected singing had been. Some of the students were fairly panting from the emotion which had racked them, for they had been stirred as they seldom were before.
Slowly Dr. Churchill arose from the chair, and again approached the edge of the platform. His voice broke as he spoke a few words.
“Men of Randall, I thank you,” he said impressively and simply. “You may rest assured that nothing will be left undone to save the old college, which has no more loyal supporters than yourselves, and, I may add, than the gentlemen associated with me on the faculty.”
He paused a moment, as if he would say more, and then, with a motion of his hand, dismissed the assemblage. In silence the students filed out, and it was not until they were some distance away from the chapel, broken up into little groups, that they began discussing the situation. Even then it was in hushed voices, as if the enemies of Randall might be hiding about, listening for something of which they could take advantage.
“Wallops wasn’t far out,” remarked Tom, who, with Phil, Sid and some other friends, was walking slowly along.