we could have sheered off in time), we would do to them as
we had been done by.

By good or ill luck, we had scarcely arrived at this important decision
when a defiant shout from a little hill among the trees close by
apprised us that we were not the only occupants of the river bank; and
worse still, that whoever the strangers were, they must have been
witnesses of our recent misfortunes--a certainty which made us feel
anything but friendly.

"Who are they?" said Langrish.

"Suppose it's those Urbans," said Coxhead. "I heard they were going to
excavate somewhere this way."

"I vote we go and see," said Trimble, who was evidently smarting not a
little.

So we went and saw, and it was even as Coxhead had surmised; for as we
approached, shouts of--

"Who got licked with a whip?"

"What's the price of beauty?"

"Why don't you dry your clothes?" fell on our ears.

"Yah--we dare you to come down and have your noses pulled!" shouted we.

"We dare you to come up and have your hair curled!" shouted they.

We accepted the invitation, and stormed the hill. The battle was short
and sharp. We were fifteen to ten, and had a grievance. I found myself
engaged with Dicky Brown, who, though he did himself credit, was
hampered by a scathelful of stones, which he fondly hoped might turn out
to be fossils, on his back. I grieve to say I made mincemeat of Dicky
on this occasion. In a few minutes the hill was ours, and the enemy in
full retreat.

We remained a short time to celebrate our victory, and then adjourned to
the school, a little solaced in our spirits.

The day's troubles, however, were not over, for at the door of Sharpe's
house, reinforced by half a dozen recruits, stalked the Urbans,
thirsting for reprisals, and longing to wipe out scores.

Then ensued a notable battle. We failed to dislodge the enemy by a
forward attack, and for some time it seemed as if our flank movements
would be equally unsuccessful. At length, by a great effort, we
succeeded in cutting off a few of them from the main body, and were
applying ourselves to the task of annihilating the rest when Tempest
appeared on the scene.

He looked fagged and harassed, and was evidently not much interested in
our battle. A row was now too common a thing in Sharpe's to be an
event, and he allowed it to proceed with complete unconcern.

Just, however, as he was taming to enter the house, Mr Jarman came up.

It was almost the first time we had