His prefects had led the way in the reaction which had set in in his favour, and perfect confidence bound them all together in no common bond.
“Do you mind our disturbing you, sir?” said Ainger. “We didn’t want you to go without our telling you how awfully sorry we are. We don’t know what will become of the house.”
“I’m not sure that I much care,” said Stafford.
“How good of you to come like this!” said the master. “For I wanted to talk to you. You must care, Stafford, and all of you. You surely aren’t going to give up all the work of these two terms just because a little misfortune has befallen us?”
“It’s not a little misfortune,” said Ainger, “but a very great one.”
“All the more reason you should not be knocked over by it. Didn’t we all set ourselves to work last term in the face of a big misfortune, and didn’t we get some good out of it for the house? It will be my one consolation in leaving to feel sure you will not let the work of the house flag an inch. Remember, Railsford’s is committed to the task of becoming cock house of the school. Our eleven is quite safe. I’m certain no team in all the rest of the houses put together can beat us. But you must see we give a good account of ourselves on prize-day too. Some of the boys have nagged a little lately in work. We must keep them up to it—not by bullying—nobody will work for that—but by working on their ambition, and making the cause of each boy the cause of the whole house.”
Railsford, as he uttered these words, seemed to forget how soon he would have to say “you” instead of “we.” He had hardly realised yet what that meant.
“We’ll try hard,” said Ainger. “But what we wanted to say, besides letting you know how sorry we are, was to ask if it’s really necessary for you to go. Is there no way of getting out of it?”
“None at all, that I can see,” said Railsford.
“Fellows say you know who it was assaulted Mr Bickers last term and won’t tell. Perhaps it’s to save some fellow in the house from being expelled. But—”