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"I'm afraid," continued Mr Percival, "you'll think this very slight ground for setting my opinion against yours; but I was pleased with Evson's manner, and asked him to come and take a stroll on the shore, that I might know something more of him. Do you know, I never found a more intelligent companion. He was all life and vivacity; it was quite a pleasure to be with him.
Would any of them show their courage by walking across the Razor on some dark foggy winter's night? and would they find in the school any other fellow of Evson's age who would not shrink from standing up in a regular fair fight with another of twice his own strength and size?
"Or a bottle of French polish, I should think," casually suggests Henderson, who, en passant, has heard the last remark. "Damn that fellow," says Mackworth, stamping, "by Jove, I'll be even with him some day." "Is he one of the new monitors?" asks Jones. "Yes," says Tracy, "and Evson's another;" and at Walter's name the faces of all four grew darker; "and Kenrick's a third."
The sight of Mr and Mrs Evson's speechless anguish impressed all hearts, and by this time hope seemed quenched for ever. For now one boy only, though young hearts are slow to give up hope had refused to believe the worst. It was Eden. He persisted that the three boys must have been picked up.
"But we won't draw it mild," said Franklin; "it's quite true; you and Jones are brutes to bully that poor little fellow so. He never hurt you." "What an uppish lot you nips are," said Harpour; "it's all that fellow Evson's doing. Hang me, if I don't take it out of you;" and he advanced with a slipper in his hand towards Franklin.
"He looks such a nice boy." "Because he did a very shabby thing not long ago," was the reply. He could stand it no longer. He glanced round at the speakers more in sorrow than in anger, and then, instead of returning to the starting-point, he turned hastily aside, and, declining the contest, plunged into the thickest of the crowd. "Evson's giving it up. What a pity!" said several boys.
So I don't ask you; and yet if you could come why, the day would be marked with white in the dull calendar of Your ever affectionate "Harry Kenrick." As Fuzby lay nearly in the route to Saint Winifred's, Walter, grieved that his friend should be doomed to such dull holidays, determined, with Mr Evson's leave, to pay him a three-days' visit on his way to school.
Kenrick slank off, half afraid that Bliss would apply the cane to him; and, speaking in a tone of authority, Bliss said to the boys in the dormitory, "If one of you henceforth touch a hair of Evson's head, look out; you know me. You little scamp and scoundrel, Wilton, take especial care."
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