"I got a kick, sir, in one of the rushes."
"Ah. I should bathe it, Charteris. Bathe it well. I hope it will not be very painful. Bathe it well in warm water."
He walked on.
"You know," said Charteris to the Babe, as they went into the House, "the Old Man isn"t such a bad sort after all. He has his points, don"t you think?"
The Babe said that he did.
"I"m going to reform, you know," continued Charteris confidentially.
"It"s about time," said the Babe. "You can have the bath first if you like. Only buck up."
Charteris boiled himself for ten minutes, and then dragged his weary limbs to his study. It was while he was sitting in a deck-chair eating mixed biscuits, and wondering if he would ever be able to summon up sufficient energy to put on garments of civilization, that somebody knocked at the door.
"Yes," shouted Charteris. "What is it? Don"t come in. I"m changing."
The melodious treble of Master Crowinshaw, his f.a.g, made itself heard through the keyhole.
"The Head told me to tell you that he wanted to see you at the School House as soon as you can go."
"All right," shouted Charteris. "Thanks."
"Now what," he continued to himself, "does the Old Man want to see me for? Perhaps he wants to make certain that I"ve bathed my cheek in warm water. Anyhow, I suppose I must go."
A quarter of an hour later he presented himself at the Headmagisterial door. The sedate Parker, the Head"s butler, who always filled Charteris with a desire to dig him hard in the ribs just to see what would happen, ushered him into the study.
The Headmaster was reading by the light of a lamp when Charteris came in. He laid down his book, and motioned him to a seat; after which there was an awkward pause.
"I have just received," began the Head at last, "a most unpleasant communication. Most unpleasant. From whom it comes I do not know. It is, in fact--er--anonymous. I am sorry that I ever read it."
He stopped. Charteris made no comment. He guessed what was coming. He, too, was sorry that the Head had ever read the letter.
"The writer says that he saw you, that he actually spoke to you, at the athletic sports at Rutton yesterday. I have called you in to tell me if that is true." The Head fastened an accusing eye on his companion.
"It is quite true, sir," said Charteris steadily.
"What!" said the Head sharply. "You were at Rutton?"
"Yes, sir."
"You were perfectly aware, I suppose, that you were breaking the School rules by going there, Charteris?" enquired the Head in a cold voice.
"Yes, sir." There was another pause.
"This is very serious," began the Head. "I cannot overlook this. I--"
There was a slight scuffle of feet in the pa.s.sage outside. The door flew open vigorously, and a young lady entered. It was, as Charteris recognized in a minute, his acquaintance of the afternoon, the young lady of the bicycle.
"Uncle," she said, "have you seen my book anywhere?"
"Hullo!" she broke off as her eye fell on Charteris.
"Hullo!" said Charteris, affably, not to be outdone in the courtesies.
"Did you catch your train?"
"No. Missed it."
"Hullo! what"s the matter with your cheek?"
"I got a kick on it."
"Oh, does it hurt?"
"Not much, thanks."
Here the Head, feeling perhaps a little out of it, put in his oar.
"Dorothy, you must not come here now. I am busy. And how, may I ask, do you and Charteris come to be acquainted?"
"Why, he"s him," said Dorothy lucidly.
The Head looked puzzled.
"Him. The chap, you know."
It is greatly to the Head"s credit that he grasped the meaning of these words. Long study of the cla.s.sics had quickened his faculty for seeing sense in pa.s.sages where there was none. The situation dawned upon him.
"Do you mean to tell me, Dorothy, that it was Charteris who came to your a.s.sistance yesterday?"
Dorothy nodded energetically.
"He gave the men beans," she said. "He did, really," she went on, regardless of the Head"s look of horror. "He used right and left with considerable effect."
Dorothy"s brother, a keen follower of the Ring, had been good enough some days before to read her out an extract from an account in _The Sportsman_ of a match at the National Sporting Club, and the account had been much to her liking. She regarded it as a masterpiece of English composition.
"Dorothy," said the Headmaster, "run away to bed." A suggestion which she treated with scorn, it wanting a clear two hours to her legal bedtime. "I must speak to your mother about your deplorable habit of using slang. Dear me, I must certainly speak to her."
And, shamefully unabashed, Dorothy retired.
The Head was silent for a few minutes after she had gone; then he turned to Charteris again.
"In consideration of this, Charteris, I shall--er--mitigate slightly the punishment I had intended to give you."
Charteris murmured his gratification.
"But," continued the Head sternly, "I cannot overlook the offence. I have my duty to consider. You will therefore write me--er--ten lines of Virgil by tomorrow evening, Charteris."