outside
Railsford's room with the shout, "He's going to raise money on his old
clothes at last!" The brutal words (for monsieur was very shabbily
attired) were scarcely uttered when Railsford's door suddenly opened and
Munger was sent reeling across the lobby under a blow which echoed
through the house. The Master of the Shell, white with rage, stood
there with a look on his face which sent the few loiterers packing to
their dens, and made Munger only sorry the wall against which he
staggered did not open and let him through.

"Come here, you--you boy!"

Munger advanced, scarcely less pale than his master.

"Apologise to Monsieur Lablache--here, down on your knees--for behaving
like a blackguard, and saying what you did!"

"No, it is no matter," began monsieur, with a shrug, when Mark checked
him by a gesture almost as intimidating as that by which he had just
summoned the offender.

"You hear me?" he said to the boy.

Munger went down on his knees and repeated whatever he was told; and
would have called himself by still worse names, had he been requested.
It didn't matter much to Munger!

"Now tell me your name?"

"Munger."

"Your form?"

"Fifth."

The master turned on his heel and ushered his guest into the room,
leaving Munger to rub his cheek, and wonder to himself how he ever came
to stand being knocked about in the way he had been that afternoon.

This had happened a day or two ago. Since then, whatever the house
thought, no one was bold enough to molest the French master publicly in
Railsford's, unless it was perfectly certain Mr Railsford was out of
the way.

It would be a mistake to say the two masters had become devoted friends.
Monsieur Lablache's chief attraction in Railsford's eyes was that he
was looked down upon by the other masters, and persecuted by the boys;
while the French master was so unused to notice of any kind, that he
felt a trifle suspicious that the kindness of his new acquaintance might
be in some way a snare. However, a little mutual mistrust sometimes
paves the way to a good deal of mutual confidence; and after a few days
the two men had risen considerably in one another's esteem. When
Railsford, on the evening in question, crushed Mr Bickers's note up in
his hand, with an angry exclamation, monsieur said--

"_Voila, mon cher_ Railsford, you do not get always _billets-doux_?"

Monsieur had heard, of course, as everyone else had, of the new master's
matrimonial pro