"I am a ruined schoolmaster. I should not have told you this--it is not a pleasant thing to have to tell--only my ruin is so complete, and so near. It will necessitate your returning home at once. Mecklemburg House will no longer be able to offer shelter to either you or I, and I--I was born here; you will perhaps be able to go with lighter hearts. I have communicated with your parents. You must pack your things at once; some of you will, perhaps, be fetched in an hour or two. I have advised your parents that you had better be all of you removed by to-morrow morning at the latest. Under these circumstances there will, of course, be no morning school; nor, indeed, in Mecklemburg House any more school at any time." Perhaps, in that schoolroom, the silence had never been so marked as it was when Mr. Fletcher ceased. The boys looked at each other, and at their master, scarcely understanding what it was that he had said, and by no means certain that they were entitled to believe their ears. No morning school! Mecklemburg House ceased to exist! Pack up! Going home at once! These things were marvellous in their eyes. There were those among them who had not failed to see the way in which things were tending, who knew that Mecklemburg House was very far from being what it was, that the glory was departed; but for such a thunderclap as this they were wholly unprepared. Pack up! Going home at once! The boys could do nothing else but stare. "You will disperse now, and go into the playground. Put your books away quietly You will be called in as you are wanted to assist in packing." They put their books away. It was unnecessary to bid them do it quietly; their demeanour had never been so decorous. Then they filed out silently, one after the other, and the headmaster and his ushers were left alone. One boy there was who walked out of that schoolroom as though he were walking in a dream. This was Bailey. It was all wonderful to him. He was watching for an opportunity to fly--he knew not why, he knew not where; but that is by the way. He had only begun to watch an hour or two ago, and here was the opportunity thrust into his hand. He never doubted for an instant that here was the opportunity thrust into his hand. It was now or never. He had reasons of his own for knowing that when he had left Mecklemburg House he had left boarding-school for ever. He might have a term or two at a day-school, but what was the use of running away from a school of that description? It was heroic to run away from boarding-school, but from day-school--where was the heroic quantity in that? No, it was now or never, and Bertie Bailey resolved it should be now. So in a secluded corner of the playground he matured his adventurous scheme; for even he was not prepared to rush through the playground gate and dash into the world upon the spot. "I must get some money."