master, which, on consideration, they decided not to be
appropriate. They therefore made hard for the other end of the room,
and wedged themselves in among a lot of jolly Grandcourt juniors, who
hailed them with vociferous cheers, and commenced to load them with a
liberal share of all the good things the hospitable table groaned under.

Happy for Dick and Heathcote had they taken advice and begun the orgy at
half distance! But they survived the "jam;" and what with chicken pie,
and beef and ham, and gooseberry pie and shandy-gaff, to say nothing of
jokes and laughter, and vows of eternal friendship with every Grandcourt
fellow within hail, they never (to quote the experience of the little
foxes in the nursery rhyme) "they never eat a better meal in all their
life."

They could have gone on all night. But alas! envious time, that turns
day to night, and hangs its pall between our eyes and the light of our
eyes, put an end to the banquet. The coaches clattered up to the
Grandcourt gate; the seventy, with their wraps and coats, were escorted,
by their hosts in a body, to the chariots; horns sounded; cheers
answered cheers; caps waved; whips cracked, and in five minutes the
Grandcourt gate was as silent as if it guarded, not a fortress of hearty
schoolboys, but a deserted, time-ruined monastery.

CHAPTER TWELVE.

IN WHICH NEMESIS HAS A BUSY TIME OF IT.

Our heroes had all along had a presentiment that their troubles would
begin some time or other. They had expected it at the very start; but
it had been put off stage by stage throughout the day, until it really
seemed as if it must make haste, if it was to come at all.

And yet everything had gone so smoothly so far; the day had been so
successful, the match so glorious, the supper so gorgeous, that they
could hardly bring themselves to think Nemesis would really pounce upon
them.

That worthy lady, however, though she often takes long credit, always
pays her debts in the long run, and our heroes found her waiting for
them before Grandcourt was many miles behind them.

They had been baulked in their intention of getting back into the
friendly shelter of coach five at the outset, by the very awkward fact
that Mansfield would stand at the door of Grandcourt, talking to a
friend, until coach five had received its passengers, and started.
Coach six followed, and to the horror of our two skulkers the way was
still blocked. Things were getting desperate. The t