.

One curious result of the upset was that Crofter was now and then to be
found in his fellow-seniors' rooms. He had blossomed out as an ardent
anti-Jarmanite, and belonged to the party who not only vowed revenge,
but was impatient at delay. Tempest's wrongs he seemed to feel as
keenly as if they had been his own; and the insults put upon Sharpe's
house he took to heart as warmly as any one.

Tempest could hardly help tolerating this effusively-offered sympathy,
although he made no profession of liking it, and continued to warn me
against having more to do than I could help with Crofter. Pridgin was
even less cordial, but his laziness prevented his taking any active
steps to cut the connection. Wales, on the other hand, though Tempest's
chum, took more kindly to the new-comer, and amused himself now and
again by defending him against his detractors.

"The wonder to me is," said Crofter, "Jarman has not caught it before
now. We're not the only house he's insulted, although I don't think
he's tried it on with any of the others as he has with us."

"Some day he'll find he's sailing a little too near the wind," said
Tempest, with a pleasant confusion of metaphors; "and then he'll get
bowled out."

"Upon my word, though," said Wales, "I think we've a right to get that
extra drill of yours wiped out. It stands against you on the register,
and it's a scandal to the house."

"They seem to think it so," observed Pridgin, as just then a loud chorus
of war-whoops came up from the region of the faggery. "Somebody had
better stop that row!"

"Jarman had better come and do it," said Tempest, laughing. "He's got
charge of the morals of Sharpe's house now."

When in due time I returned, somewhat depressed by what I had overheard,
to the faggery, I discovered that the particular occasion of the
triumphal shout referred to had been a proposal by Langrish to celebrate
the approaching Fifth of November by hanging, and, if possible, burning
Mr Jarman in effigy, for which purpose an overcoat of mine had already
been impounded. I had the greatest difficulty in rescuing it from the
hands of the marauders, who represented to me that it was my duty to
sacrifice something for the public good.

"Why don't you let them have _your_ coat, then?" I asked.

"Because," was the insinuating reply, "it wouldn't burn as well."

"You won't have mine," I insisted. "But I tell you what; I've got an
old hat and pair of boots I--I don't