“Not badly answered,” observed Mr Tugman. “Now I will show you the schoolroom before they come in, and select a desk, so that you may make yourself at home at once.”
Going down a few steps, Digby found himself in a large and lofty room, or hall, lighted by lamps from the ceiling, with rows of desks across it, and two large fire-places at the sides towards each end. At one end was a high desk, and there were five or six smaller desks, intended for the masters, down the hall, flanking the rows, as the sergeants stand in a regiment, drawn up on parade. The hall ran at right angles to the back of the house, by the side of the playground, and had evidently been built for a schoolroom.
Mr Tugman took Digby to the further end, where his own desk was, and lifting up several in one of the last rows, he came to one which was entirely empty.
“Seventy is the number, is it not?” he asked, going to his own desk. “Now, take this key, lock up whatever you like. I dare say you have some good things in your play-box, or valuables of some sort; put them there, and make yourself at home.”
Scarcely had these arrangements been concluded, when a bell rang, and the boys came trooping into the schoolroom. He was fairly caught, like a mouse in a trap. At first he was not perceived; but it was soon buzzed about, that the new boy was there, and he was quickly saluted by—
“How do you do, Master Digby Heathcote, son of Squire Heathcote, of Bloxholme Hall?”
“Pretty well, I thank you, young gentlemen,” answered Digby, determined not to be outdone, and resolved to put a bold face on the matter. “I shall be happy to make the acquaintance of any of those who will favour me with their cards, and an account of their own family, parentage, and connexions.”
“He is a pert little chap,” observed one. “Plenty of impudence in him,” said another. “A plucky little cock, though, I think,” remarked a fourth. Opinions among the bigger fellows varied considerably as to his character, and how he was to be treated.
Seldom is there a school without a bully, and Grangewood was no exception to the rule. The chief bully was a big, hulking fellow, called Scarborough. He remarked, “That there was a great deal to be taken out of the little cock, and that he purposed having the satisfaction of taking it.”
“I’m in the habit of giving small change, remember that,” said Digby, who had overheard the remark—as it had been intended he should.