walked on, smiling pleasantly.

"Good-bye for the present," said he. "Mind you obey your captain, you
fellows. We all know _he's_ a gentleman, don't we?"

And he went out, leaving us all in a state of utter astonishment.

A babel of voices at once arose. Some declared Hawkesbury was quite
right not to stand being ordered about; others said he ought to have
been stopped going out, and others said, "Who cared if he did go?"

In the midst of this my eyes turned to Jack Smith. His face, which had
been flushed and excited, was now pale and solemn. He either did not
hear or did not heed the discussion that was going on; and I must
confess I felt half-frightened as my eyes suddenly met his. Not that he
looked dangerous. He had a strange look--half of baffled rage and half
of shame--which was quite new to me, and I waited anxiously to discover
what he meant.

As his eye met mine, however, he seemed to recover himself and to make
up his mind.

"Batchelor," said he, "get the screwdriver."

"What are you going to do?" asked some one. "Are you going to lock
Hawkesbury out?"

"No," said Smith, quietly; "but I'm going to let out the others."

"What!" cried the fellows at this astounding announcement: "without
waiting for their answer? We shall all get expelled!"

"No, you won't!" said Smith, doggedly, and rather scornfully.

"You don't mean to say you're going to show the white feather?" said
Rathbone.

"I mean to say I'm going to let them out."

"Yes, and get all the credit of it, and leave us to get into the row,"
said Philpot.

Smith turned round short on the speaker and held out the screwdriver.
"Here," said he, "if you want the credit, go and do it yourself!"

Of course, Philpot declined the tempting offer, and, without another
word, Smith walked up to the passage and began pulling away the desks
from the parlour door.

Flanagan and one or two of us, sorely perplexed, helped him; the others
stood aloof and grumbled or sneered.

The two masters within heard the noise, but neither of them spoke.

At last all was clear, and Smith said, "Now then, you'd better go, you
fellows!"

We obeyed him, though reluctantly. Our curiosity as well as our anxiety
prompted us to stay. We retired to the end of the passage, where from a
distant door we nervously watched Smith turn the key and draw out first
one screw then the other from the door that divided him and us from our
masters.

At last we saw it open.