a snake, or a bacchanalian dancer, as you will; but in any
case in a way which in the present tense caused the Principal to mourn
in secret, and in the future brought the condemnation of women and the
eyes of men full upon her.

And behind the summer-house she leant against the wall.

"One more term," she said, "only one more term, and then I shall be
free--free to go--free to wander--free to follow the voice which is
calling, calling! Only one more little term!"

And Fate, grinning, pinched that one more little term between her
knotted old thumb and finger so that it was stillborn.

CHAPTER X

"And hath gone and served other gods."--_The Bible_.

Shriek upon shriek tore the peaceful stillness of the night, and in one
second the sleeping house was transformed from a place of rest and
quiet to the semblance of a disturbed rookery.

Deathly silence followed the horrible screams of fear and the sound of
the girls calling one to the other, during which mistresses extricated
themselves from the encumbering bedclothes to rush on to their
respective landings; elder girls peered in terror from their bedroom
doors, and younger ones clung to each other or the bed-post, or the
door-knob, anything in fact which would help to support their quaking
little knees.

Once again the terrible screams rent the air, whipping everyone out of
the stunned apathy which great fear brings to some folk, just as the
Principal came out on to her landing and looked up to the second storey.

"Miss Primstinn," she called, and her voice showed no sign of the
thudding of her heart.

Pushed by one of those willing hands always so eager to thrust someone
else to the forefront of the battle, Miss Primstinn, clutching her
courage and a drab dressing-gown in both hands, half ran, half slipped
down the stairs.

"_We_ will investigate, Miss Primstinn, and the young ladies will
retire to their rooms and shut the doors."

In days long past the house had been well built after the excellent
design of a wealthy old architect who had fled the place when
Eastbourne had become a centre for girls' schools and summer trippers.

The full moon flooded the hall round which ran the galleries belonging
to the successive storeys, each crowded with girls in various designs
of night attire who hung over the oak balustrades to watch developments.

But they all leapt in unison, as though spurred into action by an
electric shock, when a deep voice boomed