were just in the mood to appreciate this little act of
chivalry, and as she shyly walked up to the pavilion, they welcomed her
with a cheer which brought the blushes to her cheeks and a smile of
half-frightened pleasure to her lips. Boys who had seen her every day
for the last three months in chapel suddenly discovered that she was
simply charming; they greeted her much as mortals in distress would
greet the apparition of the good fairy, and fifty champions there and
then were ready to do battle for her, and only wished they had the
chance.

The excitement of this arrival was hardly passed when another figure
appeared on the scene, hardly less important or less popular. This was
no other than Smedley, the School captain, who had asked and obtained
special leave from Mr Roe to be present as representing the school on
the occasion. He was still indignant at the disabilities imposed upon
the rival house; and though he by no means wished it success in its
ambitious project of beating the School record, his sense of fair play
told him that if no one was on the ground to represent the other houses,
they would compete at a disadvantage. If it went out that the School
captain had been present, everyone, at any rate, would have to admit
there had been fair play and no opening for dispute, whatever the result
might be. So Smedley, although it might be to see his own record
beaten, came down to the fields that morning. There was a little
uncertainty as to his reception at first, for Railsford's was in an
Ishmaelitish mood, and was ready to call everybody an enemy who wasn't
on its side.

But when Ainger was heard to say--

"Hurrah! he's a regular brick to come and back us up like this!"
everybody jumped to the correct view of Smedley's motives, and cheered
him scarcely less enthusiastically than they had just now cheered their
"Queen of Love and Beauty."

"I only wish he was in his flannels," said Arthur, "and would run the
mile against us. It would be something like to lick him off his own
stride."

Arthur was rather proud of his athletic slang. What he meant was that
he would sooner see Ainger win the mile against Smedley himself than
against Smedley's time.

"Never mind, he's going to be the judge, do you see? I say, old man,
you and I'll have to sit up now."

This was the universal effect of the captain's presence. Perhaps he
hardly realised himself what an advantage his presence was conferring on
his riva