up now.
The scutcheon of Seymour's was definitely blotted. The name of the
house was being held up to scorn in Appleby's probably everywhere else
as well. It was a nuisance, thought Linton, but it could not be helped.
After all, it was a judgment on the house for harbouring such a
specimen as Sheen.

In Seymour's there was tumult and an impromptu indignation meeting.
Stanning had gone to work scientifically. From the moment that, ducking
under the guard of a sturdy town youth, he had caught sight of Sheen
retreating from the fray, he had grasped the fact that here,
ready-made, was his chance of working off his grudge against him. All
he had to do was to spread the news abroad, and the school would do the
rest. On his return from the town he had mentioned the facts of the
case to one or two of the more garrulous members of his house, and they
had passed it on to everybody they met during the interval in the
middle of preparation. By the end of preparation half the school knew
what had happened.

Seymour's was furious. The senior day-room to a man condemned Sheen.
The junior day-room was crimson in the face and incoherent. The
demeanour of a junior in moments of excitement generally lacks that
repose which marks the philosopher.

"He ought to be kicked," shrilled Renford.

"We shall get rotted by those kids in Dexter's," moaned Harvey.

"Disgracing the house!" thundered Watson.

"Let's go and chuck things at his door," suggested Renford.

A move was made to the passage in which Sheen's study was situated,
and, with divers groans and howls, the junior day-room hove football
boots and cricket stumps at the door.

The success of the meeting, however, was entirely neutralised by the
fact that in the same passage stood the study of Rigby, the head of the
house. Also Rigby was trying at the moment to turn into idiomatic Greek
verse the words: "The Days of Peace and Slumberous calm have fled", and
this corroboration of the statement annoyed him to the extent of
causing him to dash out and sow lines among the revellers like some
monarch scattering largesse. The junior day-room retired to its lair to
inveigh against the brutal ways of those in authority, and begin
working off the commission it had received.

The howls in the passage were the first official intimation Sheen had
received that his shortcomings were public property. The word "Funk!"
shouted through his keyhole, had not unnaturally given him an inkling
as t