"Why don't some of you put poison in their teas?" cried one. "Or blow them up when they're in bed with gunpowder?" "Or flay them alive?" "Or boil them in tar?" "Or throw them into the lions' den?" "Those who say we won't stand it any longer," shouted Bramble, jumping up on to a form, "hold up your hands!" A perfect forest of inky hands arose, and a shout with them that almost shook the ceiling. At that moment the door opened, and Wren appeared. The effect was magical; every one became suddenly quiet, and looked another way. "The next time there's a noise like that," said the monitor, "the whole class will be detained one hour," and, so saying, departed. After that the indignation meeting was kept up in whispers. Now and then the feelings of the assembly broke out into words, but the noise was instantly checked. "If young Bellerby has been flogged," said Bramble, in a most sepulchral undertone, "I've a good mind to fight every one of them!" "Yes, every one of them," whispered the multitude. "They're all as bad as each other!" gasped Bramble. "_We'll_ let them know," muttered the audience. "I'll tell you what I've a good mind to--to--ur--ur--I've a good mind to--ugh!" Again the door opened. This time it was Callonby. "Where's young Raddleston?--What _are_ you young beggars up to?--is Raddleston here?" "Yes," mildly answered the voice of Master Raddleston, who a moment ago had nearly broken a blood-vessel in his endeavours to scream in a whisper. "Come here, then." The fag meekly obeyed. "Oh, and Greenfield junior," said Callonby, as he was turning to depart, "Loman wants to know when you are going to get his tea; you're to go at once, he says." Stephen obeyed, and was very humble in explaining to Loman that he had forgotten (which was the case) the time. The meeting in the Fourth class-room lasted most of the afternoon; but as oratory in whispers is tedious, and constant repetition of the same sentiments, however patriotic, is monotonous, it flagged considerably in spirit towards the end, and degenerated into one of the usual wrangles between Guinea-pigs and Tadpoles, in the midst of which Master Bramble left the chair, and went off in the meekest manner possible to get Wren to help him with his sums for next day. Stephen meanwhile was engaged in doing a little piece of business for Loman, of which more must be said in a following chapter. CHAPTER ELEVEN. IN THE TOILS.