o be made, about the daring
exploit of the fags of Parrett's House narrated in the last chapter.
The matter was duly reported to the head monitor of Welch's by the
injured parties. But the result only proved how very cunning the
offenders had been in choosing this particular time for the execution of
their raid.

The head of Welch's reported the matter to Bloomfield, as the head of
Parrett's. But Bloomfield, who had plenty to do to punish offences
committed in his own House, replied that the head of Welch's had better
mention it to the captain of the school. _He_ couldn't do anything.
The head of Welch's pointed out that there was no captain of the school
at present. What was he to do?

Bloomfield suggested that he had better "find out," and there the matter
ended. Wherever the head Welcher took his complaint he got the same
answer; and it became perfectly clear that as long as Willoughby was
without a captain, law and order was at a discount.

However, such a state of things was not destined long to last. A notice
went round from the doctor to the monitors the next day asking them to
assemble directly after chapel the following morning in the library.
Every one knew what this meant; and when later on it was rumoured that
Riddell had gone to the doctor's that evening to tea, it became pretty
evident in which direction things were going.

"Tea at the doctor's" was always regarded as rather a terrible ordeal by
those who occasionally came in for the honour. Some would infinitely
have preferred a licking in the library, and others would have felt
decidedly more comfortable in the dock of a police-court. Even the
oldest boys, whose conduct was exemplary, and whose conscience had as
little to make it uneasy in the head master's presence as in the
presence of the youngest fag in Willoughby, were always glad when the
ceremony was over.

The reason of all this was not in the doctor. Dr Patrick was one of
the kindest and pleasantest of men. He could not, perhaps, throw off
the Dominie altogether on such occasions, but he always tried hard, and
if there had been no one more formidable than "Paddy" to deal with the
meal would have been comparatively pleasant and unalarming.

But there was a Mrs Patrick and a Mrs Patrick's sister, and before
these awful personages the boldest Willoughbite quailed and trembled.
From the moment the unhappy guest entered the parlour these two (who
were always there) fastened their eye