At this juncture Master Paul gave chase, and for a few moments Bramble and his friends were too much engaged to speak; but at last, when the chase was over, and further reprisals were out of the question, the hero of the Tadpoles summoned up all his remaining powers to yell: "Yah boo, Nightingale! Hope you get drowned! Yah!" after which he went his way. The two friends paddled quietly up the river. They talked very little, but both felt relieved to be away from their books. As they went on their spirits rose, greatly to Paul's displeasure. That young gentleman, immoderately jealous for the glory of the Fifth, was content as long as the two rowers remained grave and serious; he could then make himself believe they were engaged in mental exercises favourable to Monday's examination. But as soon as they began to whistle, and chaff him and one another, and talk of their holiday adventures, Paul became displeased, for they could not possibly do this and be inwardly preparing for the examination at the same time. However, he had to submit as best he could, and gave all his attention to steering them carefully, so that it should be no fault of his, at any rate, if they were prevented from showing up on the critical day. "This old Shar isn't half such a jolly river as the Thames, is it, Wray?" "Rather not!" replied Wraysford, resting on his oar; "and yet it's pretty enough in parts." "Oh, up at the weir?--yes. But I'm out of love with weirs at present. I shudder every time I think of that one up the Thames." "It wasn't pleasant, certainly," said Wraysford. "Pleasant! Old man, if you hadn't been there it would have been a good deal worse than unpleasant. Poor Stee!" "Pull your left, Greenfield senior, or you'll be into the bank!" sung out Paul. They paddled on again until Gusset Lock came in sight. There were very few boats about; the season was, in fact, at an end, and the river, which a month or two ago had generally swarmed with boats just at this part on Saturday afternoons, looked quite deserted. "Shall we go through the lock or turn round?" inquired Paul. "May as well turn, eh, Wray?" Paul was about to obey the order and turn the boat, when, casting his eyes on the bank, he started suddenly to his feet and exclaimed, pointing towards the lock-house, "Hullo! I say, there's something up there!" The two others looked round; something more lively than usual was undoubtedly taking place at old Mr Cripps's residence, to judge by the shouts and laughter which proceeded from the group of people assembled near the door. From where they were the boys in the boat could not see what the nature of the excitement was, and therefore paddled on with a view to satisfy their curiosity. As they came up to the lock Paul suddenly exclaimed, "That's young Greenfield!" "What!" said Oliver--"Stephen?" "Yes, and--what _on earth_ are they doing to him?"