subsided.

Jackson waited until a fresh sentence had been begun on the blackboard;
then he dropped a ruler, and in picking it up again smote the small boy
on a vulnerable spot beneath the peak of his shell-jacket.

"There _is_ something burning," repeated the master. "Has any one of
you boys got matches in his pocket?"

"Oh, _no_, sir!" shouted a dozen voices.

"Answer more quietly, can't you? I'm not deaf! Jackson, see if
there's anything in the stove."

The stove was found to contain nothing but a bit of ink-sodden
blotting-paper. Jackson drew it carefully forth, and held it up
between his finger and thumb. "That's all, sir," he said.

"Then put it _back_, sir," cried the master, "and go on with your work."

Valentine had some difficulty in keeping from laughing. The smell
which had greeted Mr. Rowlands' nostrils was caused by Garston, who was
deliberately burning holes with a magnifying glass in the coat of the
boy in front of him, who sat all unconscious of what was happening to
this portion of his wardrobe.

The new fellow, who watched the proceedings with great interest, now
stretched out his hand, and taking the glass held it up level with the
victim's neck.

A moment later there was a yell.

"Who made that noise?"

"Please, sir, somebody burnt my neck!"

"Burnt your neck! What boy has been burning Pilson's neck?"

The new-comer raised his hand and gave a flip with his thumb and
finger. "I did," he answered.

"You did!" exclaimed Mr. Rowlands wrathfully. "What are you thinking
of, sir? I've spoken to you four times to-day already. I don't know
if you were accustomed to behave in this manner at the last school you
were at, but let me tell you--"

"Please, sir," interrupted Pilson plaintively, "they've burnt a hole in
my back!"

At this announcement the class exploded.

"_Silence_!" cried the master. "What do you mean, Pilson? is your coat
burnt?"

"Yes, sir."

"Very well, Fenleigh; I shall give you five hundred lines."

Valentine, who had been an unoffending spectator of the affair, was
fairly staggered at suddenly hearing himself commissioned to write five
hundred lines. Then the situation dawned upon him--this reckless
gentleman with the burning-glass was his cousin Jack.

Mr. Rowlands made a memorandum of the punishment, and at the same time
scribbled a few words in reply to Mr. Copland. As he did so, Valentine
had an opportunity of examining his relative's appearance.