It is not to be wondered at if the proceedings at the remarkable masters’ session just reported leaked out somehow, and became the talk of Grandcourt. It was rarely that anything the masters did or said in their solemn conclaves made much impression on the complacency of their boys; but on the present occasion it was other wise.
Rumour had already been active as to the feud between Mr Bickers and the Master of the Shell, and not a few of the better-informed boys had heard that it was connected with the outrage last term, and that Mr Bickers’s intention was to bring that crime home, in some manner best known to himself, to Mr Railsford.
The idea was generally pooh-poohed as a piece of vindictive folly. For all that, there was a good deal of speculation as to the proceedings at the masters’ session, and, when it was over, curiosity to learn the result. The hurried summons to the doctor during the evening had not passed unnoted; the general opinion was that the “row” had come suddenly and acutely to a head.
When two superior officers fly at one another’s throats the spectacle may be interesting, and even amusing, to the onlooker; but I never heard of it doing anything towards the promotion of discipline or the encouragement of good tone among the rank and file. The quarrel of the two masters at Grandcourt certainly failed to do any good to the school, and if it did less mischief than might have been expected, it was because up till now the parties principally concerned had had their own reasons for keeping it private.
Felgate was naturally anxious to hear the result of an entertainment to which he had, as he imagined, made so valuable a contribution. He therefore ventured to call on Mr Bickers the following morning for a little friendly chat.
His reception did not quite come up to his expectations.
“So, sir,” exclaimed Mr Bickers, meeting him at the door, “you have thought me a fitting subject for one of your jokes, have you? What have you to say for yourself?”
Felgate looked at him in amazement.
“I really don’t understand,” said he. “What joke?”
“You wish to keep it up, do you? Very well, sir!” and Mr Bickers took down a cane. “You have thought fit to amuse yourself at my expense,” said Mr Bickers. “I intend to repay myself at yours! Hold out your hand!”