"Look sharp," he cried: "it's half over by now. They were--"

But what the end of his sentence was to be, history recordeth not. With a simultaneous yell the youngsters rushed headlong from the room, down the pa.s.sages, out at the door, across the quadrangle, and into the gymnasium. Alas! it was empty. Only the gaunt parallel bars, and idle swings, and melancholy vaulting-horse.

With a yelp of anger the pack cried back, and made once more for the school-house. At the door they met Stephen.

"Where's the fight, young Greenfield?" shouted Bramble.

"Nowhere," replied Stephen.

"What! not coming off?" shrieked the youngsters.

"No," laconically answered Stephen.

"Has your brother funked it again?" demanded Bramble, in his usual conciliatory way.

"He never funked, you young cad!" retorted the young brother.

"Yes, he did, didn't he, Padger? That time, you know, last term. But I say, Greenfield junior, why ever's the fight not coming off?"

"Loman won't fight, that's why," said Stephen; and then, having had quite enough of catechising, turned on his heel and left the indignant youngsters to continue their rush back to the Fourth Junior, there to spend an hour or so in denouncing the caddishness of everybody and to make up by their own conflicts for the shortcomings of others.

Oliver meanwhile had settled down as best he could once more to work, and tried to forget all about the afternoon's adventures. But for a long time they haunted him and disturbed him. Gradually, however, he found himself cooling down under the influence of Greek accents and Roman history.

"After all," said he to Wraysford, "if the fellow is a coward why need I bother? Only I should have rather liked to thrash him for what he did to Stee."

"Never mind--thrash him over the Nightingale instead."

The mention of the Nightingale, however, did not serve to heighten Oliver's spirits at all.

He turned dejectedly to his books, but soon gave up further study.

"You can go on if you like," said he to Wraysford. "I can't. It's no use. I think I shall go to bed."

"What! It's not quite nine yet."

"Is that all it is? Never mind; good-night, old man. I'm glad it will all be over on Monday."

Before Oliver went to bed he had a talk with Stephen in his study. He succeeded in putting pretty vividly before his young brother the position in which he had placed himself by going down to the public-house and a.s.sociating with a man like Cripps.

"What I advise you is, to make a clean breast of it to the Doctor at once. If he hears of it any other way, you're done for." Oliver certainly had an uncompromising way of putting things.

"Oh, Noll, I never could! I know I couldn't. I say, will you? You can tell him anything you like."

Oliver hesitated a moment, and then said, "All serene; I'll do it.

Mind, I must tell him everything, though."

"Oh, yes! I say, do you think I'll be expelled?"

"I hope not. There's no knowing, though."

"Oh, Noll! what _shall_ I do?"

"It's your only chance, I tell you. If Cripps comes up and talks about it, or Loman tells, you're sure to be expelled."

"Well," said Stephen, with a gulp, "I suppose you'd better tell him, Noll. Need I come too?"

"No, better not," said Oliver. "I'll go and see if he's in his study now. You go up stairs, and I'll come and tell you what he says."

Stephen crawled dismally away, leaving his brother to fulfil his self-imposed task.

Oliver went straight to the Doctor's study. The door stood half-open, but the Doctor was not there. He entered, and waited inside a couple of minutes, expecting that the head master would return; but no one came.

After all, he would have to put off his confession of Stephen's delinquencies till to-morrow; and, half relieved, half disappointed, he quitted the room. As he came out he encountered Simon in the pa.s.sage.

"Hullo, Greenfield!" said that worthy; "what have you been up to in there?"

"I want the Doctor," said Oliver; "do you know where he is?"

"If saw him go up stairs a minute ago; that is, I mean down stairs, you know," said the lucid poet.

This information was sufficiently vague to determine Oliver not to attempt a wild-goose chase after the Doctor that night, so, bidding a hurried good-night to Simon, he took his way down the pa.s.sage which led to Stephen's dormitory.

He had not, however, gone many steps when a boy met him. It was Loman.

There was a momentary struggle in Oliver's breast. Here was the--very opportunity which an hour or two ago he had so eagerly desired. The whole picture of that afternoon's adventures came up before his mind, and he felt his blood tingle as his eyes caught sight of Stephen's persecutor. Should he pay off the score now?

Loman saw him, and changed colour. He evidently guessed what was pa.s.sing through his enemy's mind, for a quick flush came to his face and an angry scowl to his brow.

Oliver for one moment slackened pace. Then suddenly there came upon him a vision of Stephen's appealing face as he interceded that afternoon for the boy who had done him such mischief, and that vision settled the thing.

Hurriedly resuming his walk, Oliver pa.s.sed Loman with averted eyes, and went on his way.

"Well?" said Stephen, in the midst of undressing, as his brother entered the dormitory.

"He wasn't there. I'll see him in the morning," said Oliver.

"Good-night, Stee."

"Good-night, Noll, old man! I say, you are a brick to me!" and as the boy spoke there was a tremble in his voice which went straight to his brother's heart.

"You are a brick to me!" A pretty "brick" he had been, letting the youngster drift anywhere--into bad company, into bad ways, without holding out a hand to warn him; and in the end coming to his help only by accident, and serving him by undertaking a task which would quite possibly result in his expulsion from the school.

A brick, indeed! Oliver went off to his own bed that night more dispirited and dissatisfied with himself than he had ever felt before.

And all through his dreams his brother's troubled face looked up at him, and the trembling voice repeated, again and again, "You are a brick to me--a brick to me!"

CHAPTER TWENTY TWO.

THE NIGHTINGALE EXAMINATION.

The next morning early, before breakfast, Oliver joined the Doctor in his study, and made a clean breast to him there and then of Stephen's delinquencies. He had evidently taken the right step in doing so, for, hearing it all thus frankly confessed by the elder brother, Dr Senior was disposed to take a much more lenient view of the case than he would had the information come to him through any other channel.