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Updated: May 4, 2025
These exciting appointments having been made, the meeting was "thrown open," a programme was drawn up, and the preparations were in a very forward state when the sad interruption occasioned by Mr Rastle's brutal conduct took place. But if Mr Rastle thought he was going to extinguish the "Vocal, Instrumental, and Dramatic Entertainment" he was woefully mistaken.
All this the young vocal, instrumental, and dramatic enthusiasts bore patiently, devoting so many extra ounces of dynamite to Mr Rastle's promised blow-up for each offence. At last the festival day arrived.
He now and then, though hesitatingly, availed himself of Mr Rastle's offer, and took his difficulties to head-quarters; and he always, when he did so, found the master ready and glad to help, and not only that, but to explain as he went along, and clear the way of future obstacles of the same sort. And so things looked up with Stephen.
"Why, Greenfield," exclaimed Mr Rastle, when in due time the young hero's turn came to stand up and answer a question, "what have you been doing to yourself?" "Nothing, sir," remarked Stephen, mildly. "How did you come by that black eye?" asked the master. "Fighting, sir," said Stephen, rather pompously. "Ah! what did you say forty-eight sixths was equal to?" This was Mr Rastle's way.
He looked up and saw Mr Rastle. "Greenfield," said the master, kindly, "how much of your imposition have you done?" "Seventy lines, sir." "Hum! That will do this time. You had better get to bed." "Oh, sir!" exclaimed Stephen, moved far more by Mr Rastle's kind tone than by his letting him off thirty lines of the Caesar, "I'm so sorry I was rude to you."
But this was certain: Stephen left his room a good deal more crestfallen than he entered it. He had hoped to win Mr Rastle's sympathy and admiration by an account of his grievances, and, instead of that, he was sent off in disgrace, with an imposition for being rude, and feeling anything but a hero. Even the applause of his friends failed to console him quite.
Stephen said, No, no one had pinched him; but finished up his sentence with another "Oh!" as the gentle Bramble gave him a sharp side-kick on the ankle as he stood. Mr Rastle's face darkened as he perceived this last piece of by-play. "Bramble," said he, "oblige me by standing on the form for half an hour. I should be sorry to think you were as objectionable as your name implies.
From which Mr Rastle gathered there was a chance of seeing Mr Cripps junior at the residence of Mr Cripps senior, at Gusset Lock-house, and thither he accordingly went. Mr Cripps junior was there, sweetly smoking, and particularly amiable. In answer to Mr Rastle's inquiries, he made no secret of his belief that the boy had run away for fear of exposure.
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