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Once Jevons got off for Ripton, but Trevor brought him down safely, and once Rand-Brown let his man through, as before, but Strachan was there to meet him, and the effort came to nothing. For Wrykyn, no one did much except tackle. The forwards were beaten by the heavier pack, and seldom let the ball out.
Ripton disguised his excessive uneasiness under endeavours to right his position on his chair, and, inwardly praying speed to the claret jug to come and strengthen his wits, began with a careless aspect: "Oh, nothing! She very curious old character! She a wears a wig. She a very curious old character indeed! She a quite the old style.
The Wrykyn pack were doing all they knew to heel, but their opponents' superior weight was telling. Ripton had got the ball, and were keeping it. Their game was to break through with it and rush. Then suddenly one of their forwards kicked it on, and just at that moment the opposition of the Wrykyn pack gave way, and the scrum broke up.
Bascom's little agate eyes glittered in the dim light. "Hello, Austen," he said, "since when have you took to comin' here?" "It's a longer trip from Putnam than from Ripton, Brush," said Austen, and passed on, leaving Mr. Bascom with a puzzled mind. Something very like a smile passed over Mr. Freeman's face as he led the way silently out of a side entrance and around the house.
"Well?" said Ripton, "and how about that young farmer fellow?" The hero's head was again contemplating the starry branches. His lieutenant's question came to him after an interval. "Young Tom? Why, it's young Torn Blaize son of our old enemy, Rip! I like the old man now. Oh! I saw nothing of the fellow." "Lord!" cried Ripton, "are we going to get into a mess with Blaizes again? I don't like that!"
The touch-judge ran up with his flag waving in the air, but the referee had other views. "Knocked on inside," he said; "scrum here." "Here" was, Trevor saw with unspeakable disgust, some three yards from the goal-line. Rand-Brown had only had to take the pass, and he must have scored. The Ripton forwards were beginning to find their feet better now, and they carried the scrum.
Crewe, glancing about him; "not one of your prominent citizens in Ripton would venture to offend the powers that be by consenting to introduce me to-night, or dared come into this theatre and take seats within thirty feet of this platform." Here Mr. Crewe let his eyes rest significantly on the eleven empty rows, while his hearers squirmed in terrified silence at this audacity.
"Say, Victoria, who is that man?" he asked. "What man?" Hastings nodded towards Austen, who, with a cake basket in his hand, stood chatting with a group of country people on the edge of the porch. "Oh, that man!" said Victoria. "His name's Austen Vane, and he's a lawyer in Ripton." "All I can say is," replied Hastings, with a light in his face, "he's one I'd like to tie to.
At the end of twenty minutes the Wrykyn line had been crossed five times, and each of the tries had been converted. "Can't you fellows get that ball in the scrum?" demanded Allardyce plaintively, as the team began for the fifth time the old familiar walk to the half-way line. "Pack tight, and get the first shove." The result of this address was to increase the Ripton lead by four points.
It was something of a consolation to Barry and his friends at any rate, to Barry and Drummond that directly after they had been evicted from their study, the house-matches began. Except for the Ripton match, the house-matches were the most important event of the Easter term. Even the sports at the beginning of April were productive of less excitement.
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