nailed to the wall for
such purposes, he got out a Virgil and sat down to begin his odious
task. The big schoolroom was empty save for a few who were under like
penalty with himself. What a lovely afternoon it was, and he would have
had nearly an hour and a half, just time to go over and secure the two
remaining eggs in that sparrow-hawk's nest in the copse at the foot of
the down--a programme he had mapped out for himself before this grievous
misfortune had overtaken him. Now some other fellow would find them, or
they would be "set" and useless before he could get out again. "Gated
till done." Half the sting of the penalty lay in those abominable
words--for it meant that no foot could be set outside the school gates
until the whole of it was completed.

"I say, Haviland. We're no end sorry."

The interruption proceeded from the two smaller culprits, predestined to
the rod on the morrow. Haviland looked up wrathfully.

"Sorry, are you, you young sweeps? So am I--sorry I didn't `sock' your
heads off."

"Please, Haviland, can't we do your impos for you--or at any rate some
of it?"

"D'you think Old Nick's such an ass as all that? Why, he'd spot the
fraud a mile off! Besides, remember what he said about breach of trust
and all that. He'd better keep that for chapel next Sunday," he added
sneeringly. "Look here, you youngsters, you'll be well swished
to-morrow, a round dozen at least, and you'd better toss for second
innings, because then Nick'll be getting tired--but anyway you're not
gated and I am. Will you go and take a nest for me?"

"Rather. Where is it?" chorussed both boys eagerly.

"Smallest of the two tree patches, foot of Sidebury Down.
Sparrow-hawk's--in an ivy-hung ash. It's quite an easy climb. You
can't miss it, and there should be two eggs left in it. I collared two
a couple of days back, and put in stones. You won't get pickled for it
any more either, because it isn't on preserved ground. You'll have to
run all the way though."

They promised, and were off like a shot, and it is only fair to say that
they brought back the spoil, and duly and loyally handed it over to its
legitimate claimant.

Left to himself, Haviland set to work with an effort. After a hundred
of the lines he flung his pen down angrily.

"Hang it, I hate this beastly place," he muttered to himself. "I don't
care how soon I leave."

This was not strictly true. He liked the school and its life, in
reality