“This knot,” said Dick, slipping the loop, “wouldn’t hold against a single lurch. Why, it comes undone in a fellow’s hand—”
And the end dropped idly on the floor of the boat as he spoke.
Heathcote nodded.
“Think of the cad having robbed two juniors like us, and collared mother’s photograph, too, the brute!” said Dick, taking his friend’s arm and walking on.
They talked no longer of Thomas White, but admired the moonlight, and wondered how soon the tide would be up, and speculated as to whether there wasn’t a breeze getting up off the land. Once they turned back, and glanced at the black hull, lying, still aground, with the tide yards away yet. Then they thought a trot would warm them up before they put on their boots, and mounted the cliff to Templeton.
The clock struck half-past eleven as they knocked modestly at the porter’s lodge. The porter was up, and evidently expected them.
“Nice goings-on, young gentlemen,” said he. “The Doctor wishes to see you after chapel in the morning. In you go. I’m sorry for you.”
With fluttering hearts they stole across the moonlit Quadrangle, and gazed round at the grim windows that peered down on them from every side. The housekeeper was up and ready for them, too.
“Bad boys,” said she, as she opened the door; “go to bed quietly, and make no noise. The Doctor will be ready for you the moment chapel is over.”
They mounted the creaking stairs, and crawled guiltily along the passage to their dormitory.