“Come and let’s see what it’s all about,” said Smedley to Branscombe.
Both the seniors had been fretting all the afternoon with a sense of something gone wrong at Grandcourt, the former with just a little indignation that he, the captain of the school, should be kept in the dark, along with everybody else, on the subject.
“I ought to work,” said Branscombe; “you go and tell me what’s up.”
“Why, I thought you were as anxious as anyone to know?”
“So I am,” said Branscombe, who to do him justice looked thoroughly worried; “but you know while there’s this row on between the two houses I—I don’t care to go over there without being asked.”
“I asked you, didn’t I?” said Smedley. “You’re not afraid of being eaten up, are you? Never mind. I’ll brave the wild beasts myself, and let you know how I get on.”
It was the rule at Grandcourt that after dark no boy from one house might enter another without permission. Smedley therefore went straight to Railsford.
“May I go and see Ainger, please, sir?”
“Certainly. And, Smedley,” said the master, as the captain retired, “look in here for a moment as you go out. I want to see you about the sports.”
Smedley found Ainger alone, and heard from him a full, true, and particular account of the day’s events.