"And why did you not obey?"

"Tempest told us to come in, so we did," said I.

"That's right, sir," said c.o.xhead.

And the others a.s.sented.

"Very well," said the doctor. "Tempest, I ask you to say whether you heard Mr Jarman tell the boys to wait?"

"Yes, sir."

"And did you tell them, in spite of that, to come in?"

"Yes, sir."

"Why?"

"Because I'm head of the house, and I'm responsible for the order of my house."

"I am glad to hear you think so," said the doctor drily. "Have you always been equally jealous for the order of your house this term, Tempest?"

This was a "facer," as we all felt. Tempest flushed and glanced up at the head master.

"No, sir, I have not," he said.

The doctor was a chivalrous man, and did not try to rub in a sore.

Tempest had made a damaging admission against himself, and might be left alone to his own sense of discomfort.

Unluckily, however, Mr Jarman stood by, and the matter could hardly be allowed to drop.

"As regards the incident last night," said the doctor, "you know quite well, all of you, that no boy, even the head of his house, has the right to set his authority against that of a master. Your conduct was an insult to him, and requires an apology. These small boys may have considered they were not doing wrong in obeying you. Tempest, but you can plead no such ignorance. I expect you to apologise to Mr Jarman."

A struggle evidently pa.s.sed through Tempest's mind. His conscience had been roused by what the doctor had said, and his manner of saying it.

Had the apology been demanded for any one else but Mr Jarman, he could have given it, and in one word have put himself on the side of duty.

But apologise to Jarman! "If Mr Jarman wants me to tell a lie," said he, slowly, "I'll say I'm sorry. I can't apologise to him."

"Come, Tempest," said the doctor, evidently disconcerted at this threatened difficulty, "you must be aware of the consequences, if you refuse to do this."

"I know, sir, but I can't help it. I can't apologise to Mr Jarman."

Dead silence followed, broken only by the hard breathing of the Philosophers. The doctor twirled the ta.s.sel of his cap restlessly. Mr Sharpe looked straight before him through his gla.s.ses. Mr Jarman stroked his moustache and smiled. Tempest stood pale and determined, with his eyes on the floor.

"I shall not prolong this scene," said the doctor at last. "For the remaining week of this term the boys concerned in yesterday's disturbance are forbidden to appear in the playing fields. You, Tempest, will have a day to think over your determination. Come to me in my house this time to-morrow."

"I'd sooner it were settled now," said Tempest respectfully and dismally. "I cannot apologise."

"Come to me this time to-morrow," repeated the doctor. "As to the other boys of the house, I want you to understand that you are all concerned in the wellbeing of your house. If, as I fear, a spirit of insubordination is on foot, and your own proper spirit and loyalty to the school is not enough to stamp it out, I must use methods which I have never had to use yet in Low Heath. It may need courage and self- sacrifice in a boy to stand up against the prevailing tone, but I trust there is some of that left even in this misguided house. Now dismiss."

It had been a memorable interview. The doctor might have stormed and raged, and done nothing. As it was, he had talked like a quiet gentleman, and made us all thoroughly ashamed of ourselves.

And yet, as we all of us felt, everything now depended on Tempest. If he surrendered he might count on us to fall in line and make up to him for all he had sacrificed on our behalf. If he held out, and refused his chance, we _too_ refused ours and went out with him! If only any one could have brought home to him how much depended on him!

Yet who could blame him for finding it impossible to apologise to Jarman, who had persecuted him all the term with a petty rancour which, so far from deserving apology, had to thank Tempest's moderation that it did not receive much rougher treatment than it had? He might go through the words of apology, but it would be a farce, and Tempest was too honest to be a hypocrite.

There was unwonted quiet in Sharpe's house that afternoon. Fellows were too eagerly speculating as to the fate in store for them to venture on a riot. The Philosophers, of course, stoutly advocated a policy of "no surrender"; but one or two of us, I happened to know, would have been unfeignedly glad to hear that Tempest had squared matters with his pride, and left himself free to take our reform in hand.

Tempest himself preserved a glum silence until after afternoon chapel, when he said to me,--

"Isn't this one of Redwood's evenings, youngster? I'll go with you if you're going."

The Redwoods had given me an open invitation to drop in any Thursday evening to tea and bring a friend. I had been several times with d.i.c.ky, and once, in great triumph, had taken Tempest as my guest. It had been a most successful experiment. Not only had Tempest taken the two little girls (and therefore their mother) by storm, but between him and Redwood had sprung up an unexpected friendship, born of mutual admiration and confidence. Since then he had once repeated the visit, and to-night, to my great satisfaction, proposed to go again.

To me it was a miniature triumph to carry off the hero of Sharpe's from under the eyes of his house, and on an occasion like the present, to a destination of which he and I alone knew the secret.

I flattered myself that, in spite of their mocking comments, the Philosophers were bursting with envy. It is always a rare luxury to be envied by a Philosopher; and I think I duly appreciated my blessings, and showed it in the swagger with which I marched my man under the f.a.ggery window.

Tempest was depressingly gloomy as we walked along, and my gentle reminder that we could not take the short cut across the playing fields, after the doctor's prohibition, but should have to walk round, did not tend to cheer him up. I half feared he would propose to walk over, in defiance of all consequences. Possibly, if he had been alone, he would have done so, but on my account he made a grudging concession to law and order.

At the Redwoods', however, he cheered up at once. He received a royal welcome from the little girls--in marked contrast to Miss Mamie's sulky reception of me as the destroyer of her nice sash. Redwood himself was delighted to see him, and the family tea was quite a merry one.

When we adjourned to the captain's "den" afterwards I was decidedly out of it. Indeed, it was broadly hinted to me that the little girls downstairs were anxious for some one to teach them "consequences"; would I mind?

Considering there was no game I detested more than "consequences," and no young ladies less open to instruction than the Misses Redwood, I did not jump at the offer. It was evident, however, Tempest and Redwood wanted to talk, and with a vague sense that by leaving them to do so I was somehow acting for the benefit of Low Heath, I sacrificed myself, and sat down to a.s.sist in the usual composite stories; how, for instance, the square Dr England met the mealy-faced Sarah (the little girls knew my nickname as well as the Philosophers) up a tree. He said to her, "We must part for ever;" she (that is I) said to him, "My ma shall know of this;" the consequence was that there was a row, and the world said, "It's all up."

In present circ.u.mstances these occult narratives were full of serious meaning for me, and my thoughts were far more with the two seniors above than with the two exacting female juniors below. However, the time pa.s.sed, and presently Tempest's "Come along, youngster," apprised me that the hour of release had come.

Redwood walked back with us, and from certain fragments of conversation which fell on my ears I was able to gather something of the result of the conference.

"If it were only yourself, you know," said Redwood, "I'd say stick out."

"But," said Tempest, "he knows I'm not sorry, even if I say so."

"It's a choice between humble pie and Low Heath losing you," said the captain.

"Not much loss."

"That's all you know. There's not a fellow we could spare less."

They walked on in silence; then Redwood said,--

"England ought to see that Jarman rots everything the way he goes on.

We'll be in a better position to get it altered if you cave in this once."

"I vowed I wouldn't do it. He'll only chuckle," said Tempest, with a groan.

"Let him! Who cares whether Jarman chuckles or not?" retorted the captain. "Look here, old chap, don't you think he'd chuckle more if you got expelled? That would be the biggest score you could give him. Take my advice, and only give him the smallest."

"I don't know. I'll think about it," said Tempest.