Then they sat down by the side of a little stream and began to wash away the signs of their injuries, wondering what else would happen before long to render them still less fit to pay their visit. And that was the end of Parson Stanard’s battle.
CHAPTER VI.
THE LONG DELAYED VISIT.
Oh, but Grace Fuller’s was an imposing house, when finally the plebes managed to find it! It was big and brilliantly lighted, with high, old-fashioned porticoes. There were spacious grounds about it, too, and tall, menacing iron gates in front that made the dubious-looking plebes feel very dubious indeed. As for poor Chauncey, he was simply floored.
“I’ll not go in,” he vowed, indignantly. “Bah Jove, I look like a coal heaver. Suppose there should be a lot of people there, don’t cher know?”
That suggestion was a new one for the rest, and it made them gasp. They hadn’t counted on seeing any one but Grace, and the idea that she might have invited a lot of girls to entertain them was indeed startling, and they talked it over for at least ten minutes before they ventured another move.
The final decision was that the fate of the nation should be left to Indian, the only respectable man in the crowd. Indian was to go, and if he found that any one else had been invited to that “party” he was to make a break for the door and fly. Otherwise, why then they might be induced to show themselves. Indian didn’t like the idea a bit, but the rest threatened him with horrors unnameable until he consented. Then he crept up timidly and rang the bell while the others lay in the bushes and hid.
The sight of the man who came to the door reassured the trembling young hero somewhat, for it was George, the butler, who had once set off some cannon for the Banded Seven and turned West Point topsy-turvy. A moment later Grace Fuller herself appeared in the hallway, a vision of loveliness that made the rest wish they were Indian.
The six heard her inquire anxiously for them; and then they heard Indian begin to stammer and stutter furiously, putting in a “Bless my soul!” every few syllables and making the others grit their teeth with rage.
“Plague take him!” muttered Mark. “He’ll give it all away.”