“It’s the practice, sir. Half these boys are in my house, and I have given them leave to stay. I also allowed the fireworks.”
“Tempest, we will speak of this presently—”
“No, sir,” blurted out Tempest, “the fellows have done nothing wrong; and if they have, I’m responsible to Dr England about it.”
Mr Jarman was not the man to give himself away in a public discussion, and coolly walked off, observing—
“I shall expect the list of names to-night, Tempest.”
Tempest’s reply was a short, defiant laugh, which made the master turn a moment, as if about to notice it. But he departed silently, and left us to recover as well as we could from the surprise of the whole scene.
The general opinion was that the policeman had met his match at last in Tempest; and the more enthusiastic of us tried to express our feelings in words. But Tempest was by no means inclined to discuss the situation.
“Shut up,” he replied angrily, when I ventured to applaud his courage. “Cut back to school at once, and don’t speak to me.”
This was a blow to some of the party, who had calculated on a general revolt, to be headed by the rock of Sharpe’s house in person, and celebrated by general orgies on the spot.
“I sha’n’t do my lines, shall you?” said Dicky, as we trotted down to the boats.