st about
afterwards.

"Come into my study."

The headmaster turned, and they followed him side by side Singer whispered
to Philip:

"We're in for it."

Mr. Watson pointed to Singer.

"Bend over," he said.

Philip, very white, saw the boy quiver at each stroke, and after the third
he heard him cry out. Three more followed.

"That'll do. Get up."

Singer stood up. The tears were streaming down his face. Philip stepped
forward. Mr. Watson looked at him for a moment.

"I'm not going to cane you. You're a new boy. And I can't hit a cripple.
Go away, both of you, and don't be naughty again."

When they got back into the school-room a group of boys, who had learned
in some mysterious way what was happening, were waiting for them. They set
upon Singer at once with eager questions. Singer faced them, his face red
with the pain and marks of tears still on his cheeks. He pointed with his
head at Philip, who was standing a little behind him.

"He got off because he's a cripple," he said angrily.

Philip stood silent and flushed. He felt that they looked at him with
contempt.

"How many did you get?" one boy asked Singer.

But he did not answer. He was angry because he had been hurt

"Don't ask me to play Nibs with you again," he said to Philip. "It's jolly
nice for you. You don't risk anything."

"I didn't ask you."

"Didn't you!"

He quickly put out his foot and tripped Philip up. Philip was always
rather unsteady on his feet, and he fell heavily to the ground.

"Cripple," said Singer.

For the rest of the term he tormented Philip cruelly, and, though Philip
tried to keep out of his way, the school was so small that it was
impossible; he tried being friendly and jolly with him; he abased himself,
so far as to buy him a knife; but though Singer took the knife he was not
placated. Once or twice, driven beyond endurance, he hit and kicked the
bigger boy, but Singer was so much stronger that Philip was helpless, and
he was always forced after more or less torture to beg his pardon. It was
that which rankled with Philip: he could not bear the humiliation of
apologies, which were wrung from him by pain greater than he could bear.
And what made it worse was that there seemed no end to his wretchedness;
Singer was only eleven and would not go to the upper school till he was
thirteen. Philip realised that he must live two years with a tormentor
from whom there was no escape. He was only happy while he was working