clutching at his
victim, he raised the cane. Whereupon, with a serene and cheerful
countenance, up rose the mighty form of Amyas Leigh, a head and
shoulders above his tormentor, and that slate descended on the bald
coxcomb of Sir Vindex Brimblecombe, with so shrewd a blow that slate and
pate cracked at the same instant, and the poor pedagogue dropped to the
floor, and lay for dead.

After which Amyas arose, and walked out of the school, and so quietly
home; and having taken counsel with himself, went to his mother, and
said, "Please, mother, I've broken schoolmaster's head."

"Broken his head, thou wicked boy!" shrieked the poor widow; "what didst
do that for?"

"I can't tell," said Amyas, penitently; "I couldn't help it. It looked
so smooth, and bald, and round, and--you know?"

"I know? Oh, wicked boy! thou hast given place to the devil; and now,
perhaps, thou hast killed him."

"Killed the devil?" asked Amyas, hopefully but doubtfully.

"No, killed the schoolmaster, sirrah! Is he dead?"

"I don't think he's dead; his coxcomb sounded too hard for that. But had
not I better go and tell Sir Richard?"

The poor mother could hardly help laughing, in spite of her terror,
at Amyas's perfect coolness (which was not in the least meant for
insolence), and being at her wits' end, sent him, as usual, to his
godfather.

Amyas rehearsed his story again, with pretty nearly the same
exclamations, to which he gave pretty nearly the same answers; and
then--"What was he going to do to you, then, sirrah?"

"Flog me, because I could not write my exercise, and so drew a picture
of him instead."

"What! art afraid of being flogged?"

"Not a bit; besides, I'm too much accustomed to it; but I was busy, and
he was in such a desperate hurry; and, oh, sir, if you had but seen his
bald head, you would have broken it yourself!"

Now Sir Richard had, twenty years ago, in like place, and very much
in like manner, broken the head of Vindex Brimblecombe's father,
schoolmaster in his day, and therefore had a precedent to direct him;
and he answered--"Amyas, sirrah! those who cannot obey will never be fit
to rule. If thou canst not keep discipline now, thou wilt never make a
company or a crew keep it when thou art grown. Dost mind that, sirrah?"

"Yes," said Amyas.

"Then go back to school this moment, sir, and be flogged."

"Very well," said Amyas, considering that he had got off very cheaply;
while Sir Richard, as soon as he was