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The consequence was that Slegge guessed pretty correctly that something was being whispered dealing with him, and he was just growing fiercely insistent and threatening what he would do if somebody did not confess, when the masters came upon the scene and took their places; while directly after there was a loud cheer, for from out of the distance came the faintly heard throbbing of a drum.
"Indeed!" said Morris, eager to cover his last retreat by drawing the man into conversation. "Yes, sir, he's a treacherous beggar. Pretends to be fond of a man, and gets him up against a wall or the side of a tree, and then plays pussy cat." "Plays what?" cried Slegge. "Pussy cat, sir. You know: rubs hisself up again' a man same as a kitten does against your leg.
"Come into the class-room," said Severn. "I want you." "What!" began Slegge. "What do you mean? Why are you trying to order me about?" "Because I have something to tell you." "Ha, ha, Cocky Severn! It's time you had that thrashing." "Is it?" said Glyn. "Well, I don't think I should care to fight with a fellow who writes anonymous letters." "What do you mean by that?" cried the other.
"What for?" said Glyn coolly. "Oh, I don't know," continued Slegge, after a glance at the boys around, who burst into a low series of titters. "I would if I were you. There's a nice brotherly look about that one in the cage, and he hasn't got a tail." "Mr Severn," said the Doctor, "come here. I want you to tell Mr Ramball that you do not need any recompense for the services you have performed.
It seems to me that old Bewley's head's getting soft, unless he's getting so hard-up that he's glad to take anybody's money to keep the old mathematical musical-box going, or else he wouldn't have taken a nigger to be put in the same rank with English gentlemen." "Here, you had better mind," said Burney. "Why?" snapped out Slegge. "Because you will have old Glyn hear you." "Pooh!
Are you going mad?" "You have, you blackguard!" cried Glyn, forcing the fellow back till he had him up against the garden-fence. "You have always hated me ever since I licked you, and like the coward you are you stooped to write that dirty, ill-spelt, abominable letter to make the Doctor think I had stolen Singh's belt." "Oh, I don't know what you mean," whined Slegge. "Let go, will you?"
But before he uttered a word his biggest pupil came staggering back towards the ring of boys on the Doctor's side, and as they hurriedly gave way down came Slegge flat upon his back at the fresh-comer's feet. After delivering his final blow, Glyn Severn nearly followed his impulse, and had hard work to check himself from falling flat upon his adversary.
"You know what letter I mean," burst out Severn. "Here, I say," cried Slegge, with a most perfect assumption of innocence; and he looked round as if speaking to a whole gathering of their schoolfellows, "what's he talking about? I don't know. Isn't going off his head, is he?" "That letter the Doctor was talking about yesterday morning," cried Glyn, with the passion within beginning to master him.
All this palled after a time, and a certain amount of whispering beginning close at hand, Slegge asked sharply what the whisperers were talking about, when silence ensued, no one present daring to repeat the remark which Burney had made, which was to the effect that old Slegge had said that he was not going to stoop to see the miserable procession, but all the same he had taken the best place.
"Oh," said Glyn, in a most imperturbable manner, fighting hard the while, though, to keep his countenance as he realised the strength of the shot he was about to send at his malicious persecutor, "he asked Singh and me to come and meet the masters and dine with him to-night." "Let 'em go," snarled Slegge to his courtiers. "It's only another way of getting a hard lesson.
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