The usual crowd collected, minus the junior faction, who complained bitterly for a year after that they had been deliberately done out of being present by the malice of the principals. One result of their absence was that the proceedings were comparatively quiet. Every one present knew what the quarrel was, and not a few, for their own sakes, hoped Corder would make a good fight of it. Dangle sneered at the whole thing, and counselled his man audibly not to be too hard on the little fool. His advice was not wanted. Corder, for a fellow of his make and inexperience, exhibited good form, and persistently walked his man round the ring, dodging his blows and getting in a knock for himself every now and then. Brinkman soon dropped the disdainful style in which he commenced proceedings, and became proportionately wild and unsteady. "Now's your chance, young 'un; he's lost his temper," whispered the captain. Whereupon Corder, hardly knowing how he managed it, danced his man once more round and round, till he was out of breath, and then slipped in with a right, left--left, right, which, though they made up hardly one good blow among them, were so well planted, and followed one another so rapidly, that Brinkman lost his balance under them, and fell sprawling on the ground. At the same moment Mr Stratton came up, and the crowd dispersed as if by magic. "What is this?" said the master, appealing to the captain. "A fight, sir," said Yorke. "A necessary one." "Between Corder and Brinkman? Come and tell me about it, Yorke." So while Corder, amid the jubilations of his supporters, who had grown twenty-fold since the beginning of the fight, was being escorted to his quarters, and Brinkman, crestfallen and bewildered, was being left by his disgusted backers to help himself, Yorke strolled on with Mr Stratton, and gave him, as well as he could, an account of the circumstances which for weeks had been leading up to this climax. "I think it was as well to allow it," said the master, "but there must be no more of it. You have a hard task before you to pull things together, Yorke, but it will be work well done." "Was it the right thing to dissolve the clubs, sir?" asked Yorke. "At the time, yes. But watch your chance of reviving them. You must have some common interest on foot, to bring the two sides together." The captain walked back to his house in a brown study. He had half hoped Mr Stratton might offer to interpose and restore the harmony of the School. But no, the master had left it to the captain, and Yorke's courage rose within him. God helping him, he would pull Fellsgarth together before he left. On the Green he met Fullerton. It was long since the Modern and Classic seniors had nodded as they passed, but in the curious perversity of things both did so now. "There's been a fight, I hear?" said Fullerton. "Yes. Brinkman and Corder. Corder had the best of it."