Before this spirit-stirring recital had reached its climax one or two of the performers had found it impossible to resist a look round to see how the captain took it. So that the “surprise” at finding him standing there at its conclusion fell rather flat.
Much to the disappointment of the spectators outside, moreover, Riddell shut the door behind him. The juniors eyed him curiously. Contrary to their expectation, he neither looked frightened nor confused, but his face was as cheery as his voice as he said, “You see, I couldn’t resist your beautiful music.”
Was he in jest or earnest? Did he really mean he had enjoyed the chorus, or was he poking fun at them? They could not quite tell.
“Oh,” said Cusack, not quite as defiantly, however, as he could have wished, “that’s a song we sing among ourselves, isn’t it, you fellows?”
“Ah!” said Riddell, before “the fellows” could chime in, “it’s good fun belonging to a musical set—especially for songs like this, that appear to have several tunes all sung at once! You should give a concert.”
The boys looked more perplexed than ever. It sounded like chaff, and yet they could scarcely believe it was. So they smiled vacantly at one another, and began to feel the situation a little awkward.
“I suppose,” continued Riddell, feeling his way carefully—“I suppose between nine and ten is the usual time for singing in Welch’s? I fancied it was before supper!”
“Oh!” said Pilbury, “we do as we like here.”
“Do you, really?” replied the captain. “How jolly that must be!”
Cusack and Pilbury could hardly tell why they laughed at this very innocent observation, but they did, and Riddell was quick enough to see his advantage.