Morris flushed. “Deering has never mentioned the matter to me, Mr. Roylston. I agree with you that it is a flagrant impropriety and that it must have seemed to you a gratuitous insult. But, of course, it was not intended for your eyes, and I dare say, is no worse than many another such squib as might be directed at any of us by almost any boy. Their sense of fun is doubtless often misdirected, but it is only a sense of fun, I believe, and usually quite devoid of malice.” “My acquaintance with Deering, Mr. Morris, has not been of so happy a nature as yours. I am not able to believe that he is devoid of malice.” “Gentlemen,” interrupted the Head, “I should be glad to hear anything you have to say on the subject. I appreciate Mr. Roylston’s very natural feeling. I hope very much, however, that he may see with me that it is one of those unfortunate incidents which——.” “Pardon me, sir,” exclaimed the master, “if I define my attitude precisely. It will prevent misunderstanding. I have reflected on this matter for six months. I can only say that should the Head Master and the faculty of this school reward with the highest honors a boy who so deeply has insulted a member of the faculty, thus seeming to stamp with their approval a quite intolerable attitude of disrespect, that I should be under the painful necessity of severing my connection with the institution.” With that he rose, bowed slightly, and excused himself. Doctor Forester rose quickly. “Gentlemen, this is evidently a more serious question than I had supposed. I shall speak with Mr. Roylston alone, and with your permission I will take the responsibility of a decision entirely upon myself. I think we may consider the meeting adjourned.” Had the masters that evening been less intent upon what was going on within, sharp eyes, directed to the clump of bushes immediately beneath the windows, might have detected an eavesdropper on their proceedings. But they did not, and when the meeting had adjourned, he slunk, unobserved, away. CHAPTER XIX THE RESULT OF THE PROTEST When Finch, for he was the eavesdropper, crawled out of the bushes under the window of the Masters’ common-room, he darted quickly, keeping within the shadow of the Old School wall, into a little clump of trees beyond the terrace. He was stiff and sore from lying motionless so long and had got thoroughly chilled from the dampness of the ground. But his mind and soul were at fever heat.