clustering boys around heaved and swayed as they watched the encounter,
quite forgetful in their excitement of the possibility of their being
seen from the house.
Dr Bewley did not run, but went nearer to it than he had been since he
wrote DD at the end of his name and gave up cricket; while before they
were half-way across the cricket-field Mr Rampson was emitting puffs
suggesting that the motive-power by which he moved was connected with a
modern utilisation of steam.
So intent was the little scholastic crowd beyond the row of tree-trunks
which with the park-palings beyond formed the arena, that not a head was
turned to see the approach of the masters and give the alarm. The
consequence was that the latter were getting close up and able to make
out that a fierce fight was going on between Slegge and Glyn Severn, the
former seconded by Burney, the latter by the young Prince.
There was no shouting, no sound of egging on by the juvenile spectators,
only an intense silence, punctuated by a hoarse panting sound, the
trampling of feet, and the _pat, pat_, of blows.
The last of these was a heavy one, delivered right from the shoulder
with all his remaining force--for the boy was pretty well exhausted--by
Glyn Severn; and it was just as the Doctor was filling his capacious
chest with the breath necessary after his hurried advance to deliver a
stern command to cease fighting. But before he uttered a word his
biggest pupil came staggering back towards the ring of boys on the
Doctor's side, and as they hurriedly gave way down came Slegge flat upon
his back at the fresh-comer's feet.
After delivering his final blow, Glyn Severn nearly followed his
impulse, and had hard work to check himself from falling flat upon his
adversary. As it was, he dropped only upon one knee, rose again
painfully, and stood with bruised and bleeding face gazing blankly at
his stern preceptor, who now thundered out in his deepest tones, "What
is the meaning of this?"
At the sight of the Doctor a thrill ran through the little throng; and,
moved as by one impulse, there was the suggestion of a rush for safety.
But the thunderous tones of the Doctor's voice seemed to freeze every
young abettor in his steps.
"Do you hear me, sirs?" cried the Doctor again. "What is the meaning of
this?"
It was the smallest boy of the school who replied, in a shrill voice
full of excitement, conveying the very plain truth:
"Fight, sir. Tom Slegge and
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