“Fielded, sir!” said Bloomfield, as the players crossed over; and this commendation was more encouraging than all the shouts of the schoolhouse partisans.
Porter’s next over disposed of the first Rockshire man, amid great school rejoicing, which was only tempered by the reflection among the Parretts that it was a wicket to the credit of the schoolhouse half of the eleven.
Then followed a succession of short but smart innings, during which the Rockshire score crawled up to seventy, despite of a further change of bowlers and very careful all-round fielding by the school.
All this time the steady man hung on obstinately; nothing seemed to puzzle him or tempt him out of his caution.
At length, in sheer desperation, Coates was put on to bowl; anything seemed better than this hopeless deadlock. And so it turned out. Coates’s first ball came down temptingly towards the off stump. Any enterprising player would have cut it for a safe four, but this cautious hand, who seemed to smell a rat in everything, was evidently determined not to be taken in by first appearances, and turned it off, half contemptuously, to his favourite quarter among the slips, thinking possibly he might punish the next rather more freely. But the next was not to come for him. Coates’s ball was rising a bit as the batsman touched it, and though he did not hit it up, it yet spun a foot or so above the ground, an easy catch, straight into Riddell’s hand, who held it fast, much to his own surprise, and greatly to the jubilation of all Willoughby.
“Well caught, sir! Caught, indeed! Played up, Riddell!” were the cries which on all hands greeted the achievement, Wyndham’s call being longest and loudest of them all.
But this time Riddell suffered no harm from the sound of that familiar voice. He had steeled himself against it for a few hours at least, and it was to him but one out of many.
Rockshire’s first innings terminated shortly with no further event of note. The last wicket fell for ninety-two, a respectable total, of which fifty-nine had been made off the Parretts’ batsmen, and thirty-three off the schoolhouse. Indeed, the advantage of the schoolhouse did not end there. Out of three catches—not counting Riddell’s—they had made two, while of the five wickets which had been taken by the bowling, they claimed three against their rivals’ two.
Great was the dismay of Parrett’s as these results were made known. They buoyed themselves up greatly, however, with the prospect of the batting, where it would be strange indeed if they did not score better than the schoolhouse. And after all, it is the runs that win a match.
Bloomfield himself, be it said to his credit, allowed no petty considerations of party rivalry to influence him in sending in the best men at the right time. However much in some ways he might lend himself to the whims of his more energetic comrades, in a matter like the Rockshire match, where he was in sole command, and responsible for the glory of the school, he acted with the sole object of winning the match.