, and freedom was within his grasp, and now it
had eluded him and was as hopelessly out of reach as ever!

No one pitied him; no one understood the real extent of his loss. Mr.
Blinkhorn and the few enthusiasts went back to their unobtrusive game,
while the rest of the school discussed the affair in groups, the popular
indignation against young Bultitude's hitherto unsuspected meanness
growing more marked every instant.

It might have even taken some decided and objectionable form before
long, but when it was at its height there was a sudden cry of alarm.
"_Cave_, you fellows, here's Grim!" and indeed in the far distance the
Doctor's portly and imposing figure could be seen just turning the
corner into the field.

Mr. Bultitude felt almost cheered. This coming to join his pupils'
sports showed a good heart; the Doctor would almost certainly be in a
good humour, and he cheated himself into believing that, at some
interval in the game, he might perhaps find courage to draw near and
seek to interest him in his incredible woes.

It was quite extraordinary to see how the game, which had hitherto
decidedly languished and hung fire, now quickened into briskness and
became positively spirited. Everyone developed a hearty interest in it,
and it would almost seem as if the boys, with more delicacy than they
are generally credited with, were unwilling to let their master guess
how little his indulgence was really appreciated. Even Mr. Tinkler,
whose novel had kept him spell-bound on his rail all through the recent
excitement, now slipped it hurriedly into his pocket and rushed
energetically into the fray, shouting encouragement rather
indiscriminately to either side, till he had an opportunity of finding
out privately to which leader he had been assigned.

Dr. Grimstone came down the field at a majestic slow trot, calling out
to the players as he came on--"Well done, Mutlow! Finely played, sir!
Dribble it along now. Ah, you're afraid of it! Run into it, sir, run
into it! No running with the ball now, Siggers; play without those petty
meannesses, or leave the game! There, leave the ball to me, will
you--leave it to me!"

And, as the ball had rolled in his direction, he punted it up in an
exceedingly dignified manner, the whole school keeping respectfully
apart, until he had brought it to a reasonable distance from the goal,
when he kicked it through with great solemnity, amidst faint, and it is
to be feared somewhat sycophan