“We may get into a row for it,” said Arthur. “I don’t care. It’ll show him up and be a real leg-up for Marky. Look alive now, and come and put it back in his room.”
So they sallied up once more and carefully replaced the parcel exactly where they had found it, and then, rejoicing exceedingly, dodged down again. It seemed to them a politic thing just to look in at the Forum on their way down, to witness the end of the debate and take part in the division. They had not the slightest idea what the debate was about, but they made themselves prominent among the “Ays,” and cheered loudly when the motion was declared to be carried by two votes.
Felgate nodded to them as he passed out, little guessing the real meaning of the affectionate smile with which they returned the greeting.
“So your cold’s better, youngster?” said he to Arthur.
“Looks like it,” replied Arthur.
Felgate’s first glance as he entered the room was towards the corner in which he had left his parcel.
He had just been cording it up that evening when he suddenly remembered his engagement at the Forum, and in the hurry of the discovery he had carelessly left it out, instead of, as he had intended, locking it up.
“However,” thought he to himself, “it’s all safe as it happens. I won’t send it over to Bickers till to-morrow afternoon, just before the master’s session. It will be far more effective if he opens it in the brute’s presence; and, after all, I don’t care a twopenny-piece if he knows it comes from me or not—the cad!”
He had half a mind to open the letter and tell Mr Bickers to mention his name if he chose; but just as he was about to do so Munger came in to see him. So he abandoned the idea and locked the parcel up safely in his drawer.
Felgate had, as the reader may have judged, come to the conclusion that it was time to play his trump card against his enemy. Railsford’s reporting of him to the doctor had been, to mix metaphors a little, the last straw which breaks the patient camel’s back.