“Any fool could tell that,” said Tempest, with troubled face.
“I wish you hadn’t been there,” said I; “they may think it was you.”
“Let them,” said he, with a laugh which was anything but merry. I was longing to hear what had happened to him last night, but he did not volunteer any information, and I did not care to question him.
Horribly uneasy, I was about to seek the questionable consolations of my comrades, when the school messenger entered with a long face.
“Master Tempest, the head master wants to see you at once.”
“All right,” said Tempest.
“He said I was to bring you.”
“If you want to carry me, you may,” said Tempest, with a short laugh; “if not, wait a moment and I’ll come. Jones, tell Pridgin I want to speak to him—wait, I’ll go to him.”
The school messenger looked as if he felt it his duty to take the senior at his word. Had Tempest been a smaller boy, he might have done so. As it was, he repeated,—
“At once, please, sir.”