gainst
Williams--"Please, miss, he's nipped me,"--and he
rubbed his leg ruefully.

"Come in front, Williams," she said.

The rat-like boy sat with his pale smile and did not
move.

"Come in front," she repeated, definite now.

"I shan't," he cried, snarling, rat-like, grinning. Something
went click in Ursula's soul. Her face and eyes set, she went
through the class straight. The boy cowered before her
glowering, fixed eyes. But she advanced on him, seized him by
the arm, and dragged him from his seat. He clung to the form. It
was the battle between him and her. Her instinct had suddenly
become calm and quick. She jerked him from his grip, and dragged
him, struggling and kicking, to the front. He kicked her several
times, and clung to the forms as he passed, but she went on. The
class was on its feet in excitement. She saw it, and made no
move.

She knew if she let go the boy he would dash to the door.
Already he had run home once out of her class. So she snatched
her cane from the desk, and brought it down on him. He was
writhing and kicking. She saw his face beneath her, white, with
eyes like the eyes of a fish, stony, yet full of hate and
horrible fear. And she loathed him, the hideous writhing thing
that was nearly too much for her. In horror lest he should
overcome her, and yet at the heart quite calm, she brought down
the cane again and again, whilst he struggled making
inarticulate noises, and lunging vicious kicks at her. With one
hand she managed to hold him, and now and then the cane came
down on him. He writhed, like a mad thing. But the pain of the
strokes cut through his writhing, vicious, coward's courage, bit
deeper, till at last, with a long whimper that became a yell, he
went limp. She let him go, and he rushed at her, his teeth and
eyes glinting. There was a second of agonized terror in her
heart: he was a beast thing. Then she caught him, and the cane
came down on him. A few times, madly, in a frenzy, he lunged and
writhed, to kick her. But again the cane broke him, he sank with
a howling yell on the floor, and like a beaten beast lay there
yelling.

Mr. Harby had rushed up towards the end of this
performance.

"What's the matter?" he roared.

Ursula felt as if something were going to break in her.

"I've thrashed him," she said, her breast heaving, forcing
out the words on the last breath. The headmaster stood choked
with rage, helpless. She looked at the writhing, howling figure
on