Meanwhile David, holding his breath till he saw, in the dim light that always streamed out from the dormitory hall where the gas was left turned down at night, that Joel was safely drawn in to shelter, frantically rushed around to the big door, in the wild hope that somehow admittance would be gained. “Joe will come by and by,” he said to himself, sinking down on the steps.
“We're done for,” said Tom's voice off in the distance.
“Oh Tom, are you there?” cried Davie, straining his eyes to catch a glimpse.
“Hush!” Tom poked his head out from a clump of shrubbery. “Don't you dare to breathe. I tell you, Dave, our only hope is in staying here till morning.”
“Oh dear me!” exclaimed David in dismay.
“Oh dear me!” echoed Tom in derision. It was impossible for him to stop talking, he was so keyed up. “It's paradise, I'm sure, compared to being in old Fox's grip.”
This brought David back to Joel's plight, and he sighed dismally, and leant his head on his hands. How long he sat there he couldn't have told. The first thing he did know, a big hand was laid on his shoulder, and a bright glare of light fell full on his face.
“Oh my soul and body!” cried John, the watchman, bending over him, “if here ain't one of th' boys dead asleep on the doorsteps!”
“Little goose, to sit there!” groaned Tom, huddling back into his bushes. “Now it's all up with him. Well, I'll save my skin, for I don't believe those boys will tell on me.”
“Coventry” was a small square room in the extension, containing a bed, a table, and a chair, where the boys who were refractory were sent. It was considered a great disgrace to be its inmate. They were not locked in; but no boy once put there was ever known to come out unless bidden by the authorities. And no one, of course, could speak to them when they emerged from it to go to recitations, for their lessons must be learned in the silence of this room. Then back from the class-room the culprit must go to this hated place, to stay as long as his misdemeanor might seem to deserve.