United States or Kyrgyzstan ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Whereat the worthier spirits in the ancient house rejoiced. Now the joy was turned into wailing and gnashing of teeth. "Is he a beast to us?" said John. The freckle-faced boy answered affably, "That depends. His Imperial Highness" he kicked the new portmanteau hard "will not find Mr. Richard Rutford a beast. Far from it. And he's civil to the Demon, because his papa is a man of many shekels.
"Well, my dear Scaife, how are you? We've been a little anxious, all of us, but, I ventured to predict, without cause. Tell us, my poor boy, how do you feel?" Scaife opened his eyes. Then he groaned dismally. Rutford was standing to the right of the chair and footbath. The fifth were facing Scaife. He met their anxious, admonishing glances, unable to interpret them.
I'm not sure that he didn't strike the edge of the table as he fell." "He did," said one of the boys. "I saw that." At this moment Scaife moved in his chair, drawing all eyes to his face. John, peering from behind the circle of big boys, could see the first signs of returning consciousness, a flicker of the eyelids, a convulsive tremor of the limbs. Rutford bent down.
John saw that Rutford seemed relieved. "I have ordered Lovell's room to be searched. If no wine or spirits are found, I shall be glad to believe that I have made a very pardonable mistake." While Scaife was being removed, Lawrence came in with his report. Nothing alcoholic had been discovered in Lovell's room. After prayers, which were late that night, Dirty Dick made a short speech.
The Upper School knew that, as a member of the Alpine Club, Warde had conquered half a dozen hitherto unconquerable peaks. Into the Yard and into this book Warde comes late. As he hurried to his place, the School greeted him as they had greeted Rutford only the week before. If anything, the demonstration was slightly more hostile.
The matron, good easy soul, accepted the boys' story unhesitatingly. A fit, of course, poor dear child! Mr. Rutford must be summoned. With the optimism of youth, those present began to hope that dust might be thrown into the eyes of Dirty Dick. And, with a little discreet delay, the Demon might recover, when he could be relied upon to play his part with adroitness and ability.
The boy must be propped up and the blood drawn from his head by applying hot water to his feet." The Fifth exchanged glances. Why had this not occurred to them? What a fool Mrs. Puttick was! "A rush of blood to the head!" Rutford like to hold forth, and he had been told that he was a capital after-dinner speaker.
"Will turn scales which my heaviest arguments won't budge. A bit of luck! The duke wanted to send his son, a delicate lad, to Harrow, and I did mention to him that Rutford had a vacancy." "O Ulysses! And Scaife? How did you handle that large bale of bank-notes?" "Rutford captured Scaife." "Handsome boy his son. Lunched with us this morning. Well, well, you have persuaded me.
The groans fell on a terrifying silence. Rutford glanced keenly from face to face. Then he said slowly "The wretched boy is drunk!" At the sound of his house-master's voice, Scaife relapsed into an insensibility which no one at the moment cared to pronounce counterfeit or genuine. Rutford glared at Lovell. "Who was in your room, Lovell?"
"And fool," added Scaife. "This sort of thing makes him loathed." "It is a sell his being here." All three fell to talking. The question still festering in John's mind was answered within a minute. The "brute" was Rutford. Towards the end of the previous term gossip had it that the master of the Manor had been offered an appointment elsewhere.
Word Of The Day