“And you,” declared his father, “what have you done to _stop_ this open defiance of my instructions? You are captain of football here, and as my own son you came to this school with a ready-made reputation. You could, by strong action, have swayed the school to my support within a fortnight. Instead you have been crassly inactive. This match has taken place under your very nose and you have not so much as lifted a finger to prevent it. We are well into the second half of term, and instead of showing determination in tackling the state of affairs you are content to be made ridiculous by a youngster whose sole qualification to captaincy is his popularity. I am amazed.” Roe moved a step farther back. “I thought——” he began. “Be silent,” commanded the Head. “Listen to me. Immediately Rouse returns you will tell him to come to my room without a moment’s delay——” Roe interrupted. “It’s no use sending for Rouse,” said he. “Everybody who’s playing has sworn to take a share of the blame.” The Head stared at him. Roe proceeded to explain, but the Head was impatient. “I shall see Rouse,” he repeated. “And you, as captain of football, will make it your business to give him those instructions personally. There is another thing. Mr Nicholson has gone up to London for the day. I understand he is returning by car very late to-night. Instruct the porter to send to his rooms and leave word that I require to see him here to-morrow morning immediately before chapel. You yourself will remain about the school until Rouse returns. Whatever time it may be you will see that he comes here forthwith. If I am not here he will wait until I return. You clearly understand?” “Yes, sir,” said Roe, in a melancholy whisper. The Head pointed towards the door, turned in his chair and picked up a paper with hands that were trembling with suppressed wrath. Roe closed the door gently behind him. As soon as he had gone the Head threw his paper on to the floor and stood up. He moved to the window and stood there a moment looking out upon the school’s strange solitude. It was tea-time. By now the match must be nearly over. Within a few hours those who had broken his strict command would be returning and going to their respective houses. He had until then to make up his mind as to the penalty that must be paid. Rouse had challenged his son’s authority, and his son had proved hopelessly unable to compete with him. Sudden keen disappointment came into the Head’s heart. He felt extraordinarily alone. There was no single being in the whole school who was upon his side. He had sent for his son in the belief that his son stood out amongst ordinary boys as he stood out amongst ordinary headmasters. His son had failed. He had nobody now to depend upon. He stood entirely alone. But the school had challenged him and he must find an answer. CHAPTER XVIII THE UNCOUNTED COST