erged on to the roof they were
horrified to see the chimney belching forth sparks and smoke with
unmistakable fierceness.

Fortunately the roof was flat and the chimney-pot accessible. The
contents of the three jugs rapidly damped the ardour of the rising
flames, and in five minutes after Ainger's first knock at the door the
danger was all over.

"Luckily I happened to see it from Smedley's room opposite," said the
captain. "Whatever had you been cooking for supper?" They laughed. It
was evident the captain was not going to visit the misadventure severely
on their heads.

"Something good," said Arthur. "But I guess it'll be a little overdone
now. Thanks awfully, Ainger, for helping us out. We might have got
into a jolly row if it hadn't been for you, mightn't we, Dig?"

And they departed peacefully to bed, leaving Ainger to wonder what was
the use of being the captain of a house when your main occupation is to
put out fires kindled by the juniors, and be patted on the back by them
in return!

CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE.

THE BLOW FALLS.

"My good friend," said Monsieur Lablache, "you are in a great trouble.
I am sorry for you."

Monsieur had looked in as he sometimes did to breakfast in his friend's
study.

The two men, one strong, the other weak, still clung to one another in
an odd sort of friendship. Railsford's protection had improved
monsieur's position in the school not a little. The boys of his own
house were more tolerant of his foreign peculiarities; and some of the
other masters, taking to heart the chivalrous example of their junior
colleague, had begun to think better of the unpopular detention master,
and to recognise good qualities in him to which hitherto they had been
blind.

If monsieur could only have got it out of his head that he was a born
diplomatist, there would not have been a more harmless master in
Grandcourt.

"I am sorry for you, my good friend," repeated he. "But you will be
brave."

"Really, Lablache, you don't give a man an appetite for breakfast.
Things don't look very cheerful, I know; but what special cause for
lamentation have we?"

"Bad lies will be told of you at the masters' meeting to-night," said
the Frenchman, "but take courage, _mon ami_, I shall be there."

"Have you any idea what the lies are to be?" asked Railsford, who
perhaps was not as jubilant as he might have been at this last cheering
promise.

"Meester Beekaire, so I have heard, desires to