His first impulse was to smile at the thought that it was only a dream, but he quickly changed his mind, and sat up with his eyes very wide open as the figure repeated—
“What do you mean by it? Get out of this!”
The speaker was a big boy, whom Heathcote, in the midst of his bewilderment, recognised as having seen at the Fifth-form table in Hall.
“What’s the matter?” faltered the new boy.
“The matter! you impudent young beggar. Come, get out of this. I’ll teach you to play larks with me. Get out of my bed.”
Heathcote promptly obeyed.
“I didn’t know—I was told it was where I was to sleep,” he said.
“Shut up, and don’t tell lies,” said the senior, taking off his slipper and passing his hand down the sole of it.
“Really I didn’t do it on purpose,” pleaded Heathcote. “I was told to do it.”
The case was evidently not one for argument. As Heathcote turned round, the silence of the night hour was broken for some moments by the echoes of that slipper-sole.