In this state of perplexity, Paul determined to write briefly to Mr.

Moncrief again. That was the only way in which all doubt could be ended.

So he wrote a note stating that he had written a letter of some importance a few weeks since, and wishing to know as soon as possible whether or not it had been received. This letter he directed the same as before--"W. Moncrief, Esq., Redmead, Oakville, Kent." He determined that this time he would post the letter himself; so the next day, watching his opportunity, he slipped from the grounds, and posted it at the village post-office.

"It can't go wrong now," he said to himself, as he retraced his footsteps.

Meanwhile, Plunger and Moncrief minor were thrown into a state of great excitement by finding letters awaiting them at the adjacent tuck-shop.

Plunger tore the envelope open.

Immediately he drew out the letter and glanced at it he groaned. His groan was echoed by Harry. On the top of Plunger's letter was a rudely-designed facsimile of a c.o.c.kroach. On the top of Harry's letter was a similarly grotesque design.

Beneath it, in scarcely less grotesque handwriting, as though one of the legs of the c.o.c.kroach had been dipped in ink and made to trace words upon the paper, was the following:

"Brother of the Mystic Order,--Greeting from the Brethren. Meeting to-morrow afternoon at headquarters. Time, half-past three sharp. Be not absent at thy peril."

Then followed the lines which Plunger so well remembered--the words which had formed part of the incantation of the "Mystic Circle:"

"Whene'er thou hear'st thy chieftain's call, Rest not, pause not, hither crawl, Or to the realms of Creepy-crawly, Shivery-shaky, we will haul thee."

Plunger groaned again. Harry again echoed it.

"What are you making that row for, you little a.s.s?" cried Plunger testily.

"Thought I'd cheer you up a bit. You look just awful, Plunger!"

"You look worse than that! Ever seen a petrified mummy? No? Well, just look at yourself in the gla.s.s, then! What's your letter about?"

They exchanged letters, and found that they were in precisely the same terms--that both were summonses for them to appear before "the Mystic Order" at the same date and hour.

CHAPTER x.x.xVIII

"FORGIVE, AND YE SHALL BE FORGIVEN"

The two boys looked at each other blankly. How were they to act? What was to be done? If they refused to obey the summons from the "Mystic Brethren," they knew not what would be the penalty. The more they looked at the letters, with their grotesque design, the more imposing they seemed.

"What's to be done, Freddy?" asked Harry, when they were outside the shop.

"We shall have to go, I suppose!" answered Plunger despondently. "We've given ourselves away, you see. We're one of them--one of the wretched Beetles. We've taken the vow of allegiance. They've got us in a tight corner."

"What's the 'realms of Creepy-crawly, Shivery-shaky' I wonder?" asked Harry, in an equally dejected tone.

"Some ditch with plenty of toads and slime about it, I expect. You needn't be anxious. We'll know soon enough!" groaned Plunger. "I wish to goodness you'd been anywhere before you let me in for this mess! Why did they ever let you loose from Gaffer Quelch's?"

"Oh, shut up, Plunger! You're tiring! After all, you wouldn't make such a bad Beetle. You can crawl a lot better than you can punt, and----Oh, oh!"

Plunger had caught him by the ear and given it a vigorous pull. Harry returned it by kicking Plunger on the shins. Having thus equalised matters, they became once more on friendly terms.

"Look here, Harry, we're both in the same boat. Supposing we don't go?"

"Then what'll happen?"

"I don't know. We shall have to chance that. They can't eat us."

"Oh, but I'm not afraid! It's not that; but--but I don't somehow like breaking my word."

"Neither do I. It's jolly awkward; yet, come to think of it, I don't see why we shouldn't."

"We promised to be true to the cause."

"Yes; but the promise was got from us by force, and that isn't binding.

I've heard my pater say so."

"Oh, he's in the glue line, and ought to know what's binding! Stop it, Plunger!"--as Plunger seized him once more by the ear. "That's the worst of you. You don't know a compliment when you hear one. Don't I wish my pater was in the glue line! It's fine stuff. Made out of horses' hoofs, isn't it? Well, go on. Not binding, you said. How do you make that out?"

"Haven't I said, stupid--because it was got from us by force? But don't take my word for it. Let's ask your cousin. Will that satisfy you?"

Harry at once consented. He still had the highest admiration for his cousin, notwithstanding the fact that he had been defeated by a Beetle.

They returned to the school, where they were not long in finding Stanley, who had just been joined by Newall.

"We want to talk with you alone, if--if you wouldn't mind, Stan," said Harry.

"You don't think that I'm going to clear out for any of you Lower Form cubs, do you?" sneered Newall.

"Oh, you can speak before Newall as you would before me, Harry! Come, fire away!"

Harry still hesitated. He could not forget how Newall had served him when he first came there, but while he was hesitating Plunger began:

"This is what we want to know. Supposing any fellows in this school--we won't mention names--happened to be captured by the enemy, and supposing the enemy forced them into a--a----"

"Secret society," put in Harry, as Plunger came to a standstill.

"Yes, secret society. A kind of brotherhood--vendetta, with masks and knives and forks--daggers, I mean--and that sort of thing----"

"Now, look here, Master Plunger, stop plunging! Drop it, and come to the point!" said Stanley firmly. "What do you want to know? Come, Harry; you're not so ga.s.sy. Perhaps we can get some sense out of you."

Harry explained as well as he was able what they wanted to know. Stanley at once decided that a promise given under such circ.u.mstances was not binding, and his opinion was, of course, backed up by Newall, who was eager to know what this mystery could mean. Thus a.s.sured, Plunger and Harry told them all that had happened on the afternoon they had been captured by the "Mystic Brethren." As may be imagined, Stanley and Newall were greatly excited by the story--especially that portion of it referring to Paul.

"Now are you satisfied?" cried Newall triumphantly. "Didn't I always say what Percival was? He's not only a cur, but a traitor!"

And Stanley, who in days gone by would have fiercely resented the slightest reflection on Paul, allowed the words to go unchallenged.

"You're quite certain that it was Percival you saw?" he at length asked.

"Am I certain that I see you?" answered Plunger. "Besides, Harry saw him, too. Both of us couldn't be mistaken."