“I name no names,” said Pasco; “but I must say this to clear myself. I’ve borne hard words too long for the sake of sheltering she. The schoolmaster heard her father lecturing of her for what she’d done.” “But she wouldn’t do it out of pure wickedness,” urged the clarionet; “and what reason had she?” “There it is,” answered Pasco. “I see I’m among friends, and it won’t go no farther. I’d been speaking to her rather sharp for her goings-on with young men, drawin’ on Jan Pooke, then kicking him over, then Noah Flood, and same with he. Noah, poor fellow, was took cruel bad along of she’ever since Ashburton fair had a pain in the stomach; if that ain’t love, show me what love is. Then she took up with that schoolmaster chap, and when I said I wouldn’t have it, and I wasn’t going to have the family disgraced wi’ bringing schoolmasters into it, she cut rusty, and sulked, and I believe it were naught but spite.” “But,” observed the clarionet, “the tale I was told of what the schoolmaster said wasn’t quite that.” “You are right there,” said Pasco. “He’d alter his tale when he found what she’d been about. As is nat’ral. I put it to the company, if you was sweetheartin’, and you found your love had been up to wickedness, you wouldn’t tell tales of her, but would do all you could to screen her.” “That’s true,” was the general opinion. “And you think Jason see’d her, and made off?” said the bassoon. “That explains everything,” observed the violoncello. “I begin to see daylight,” remarked the hautboy. At that moment, in rushed the first violin, waving the score above his head. “I’ve got it!” he said. “Nothing easier. It wasn’t no fault o’ Puddicombe, he said it were our stoopidity. ‘What does _largo molto con affettuoso caprizio_ mean?’ he asked. ‘_Largo molto_, turn the score upside down, _con affettuoso caprizio_, and go ahead like blazes!’” CHAPTER XLVI A TRIUMPH The fumes of the punch had been dissipated, not only from the room of the Lamb and Flag, but also from the brain of the orchestra. The bassoon’s scruples revived; he was still grateful for the punch, but resentful for the headache it had produced.