sition at the
block.

Murmurs of "Well bowled" reached me: and so silent was the crowd and
so still the evening, that I heard a voice saying to someone: "That
was a good ball, wasn't it? Absolutely beat him. In a light like
this--"

Now I was trembling, if you like. But it was not nerves. It was
confidence that the supreme moment of my schooldays was upon me. I
picked up the ball, muttering repeatedly but unconsciously: "O God,
make me do it." I turned and faced Radley. As I took my short run, I
felt perfectly certain that I should bowl him. And the next thing I
remember was seeing my master's leg-bail fall to the ground.

All together, none before and none after the other, every male in
the crowd bellowed forth the accumulated excitement of the day:

"OUT!"

Sec.6

Not for half an hour that evening did the cheering cease or the mass
of boys begin to disperse. Even then there were little outbreaks of
fresh cheering coming from separate groups. A line of day-boys, who
had linked arms as, homeward bound, they left the field, droned
merrily:

"Now the day is over,
Night is drawing nigh,
Shadows of the evening
Steal across the sky."

And among the dissolving cheers from the distance could occasionally
be heard the refrain of "Hoo-_Ray_, hoo-_Ray_, hoo-blooming-_Ray_!"

CHAPTER XII

CASTLES AND BRICK-DUST

Sec.1

It was on the day when those two pistol shots were fired at an
Austrian Archduke in the streets of Serajevo that the Masters' match
was played out at Kensingtowe. By the early evening the
reverberation of the revolver reports had been felt like an
earthquake-shock in all the capitals of Europe; and in a failing
light the last wicket had fallen at Kensingtowe. So it happened
that, while the Emperors of Central Europe were whispering that the
Day had come and the slaughter of the youth of Christendom might
begin, there was a gathering in Radley's room of those insignificant
people whose little doings you have watched at Kensingtowe. They
were assembled to drink tea and discuss the match. There were Radley
as host; Pennybet, to represent the Old Boys; Doe and I, in fine
fettle for the School; and Dr. Chappy, who, having sworn that he was
a busy man and couldn't spare the time, sat spilling cigar-ash in
the best armchair, and looked like remaining for the rest of the
evening.

"Stop quarrelling about the match," said Radley, as he stood with