Like a sensible little man, he went sound asleep over these questions, and forgot all about them till the morrow. When he woke Stephen was like a giant refreshed. His eye was certainly a rather more brilliant yellow than the day before, and his cheek still wore a dull red flush. But somehow he felt none of the misgivings and dumps that had oppressed him the night before. He was full of hope again and full of courage. The Guinea-pigs should never charge _him_ with treachery and desertion, and what he had gone through already in the "good cause" he would go through again. With this determination he dressed and went down to school. Loman, whose summons he expected every moment to hear, did not put him to the necessity of a renewed struggle. From all quarters, too, encouraging reports came in from the various insurgents. Paul announced that Greenfield senior took it "like a lamb"; Bramble recounted how his "nigger-driver," as he was pleased to call Wren, had chased him twice round the playground and over the top of the cricket-shed without being able to capture him; and most of the others had exploits equally heroic to boast of. Things were looking up in the Fourth Junior. They spent a merry morning, these young rebels, wondering in whispers over their lessons what this and that Sixth or Fifth Form fellow had done without them. With great glee they imagined Raleigh blacking his own boots and Pembury boiling his own eggs, and the very idea of such wonders quite frightened them. At that rate Saint Dominic's would come to a standstill altogether. "Serve 'em right!" said Bramble; "they want a lesson. I wish I'd two fellows to strike against instead of one!" "One's enough if he strikes you back," said Stephen, with a rueful grin. Master Bramble evinced his sympathy by laughing aloud. "I say, you look just like a clown; doesn't he, Padger, with his eye all sorts of colours and his cheek like a house on fire?" "All very well," said Stephen; "I wish you'd got my cheek." "Bramby's got cheek enough of his own, I guess," put in Paul; whereat Master Bramble fired up, and a quarrel became imminent. However, Stephen prevented it by calling back attention to his own picturesque countenance. "I don't mind the eye, that don't hurt; but I can tell you, you fellows, my cheek's awful!" "I always said you'd got an awful cheek of your own, young Greenfield," said Bramble, laughing, as if _he_ was the inventor of the joke. Stephen glowered at him. "Well, you said so yourself," put in Bramble, a little mildly, for since Stephen's exploit yesterday that young hero had advanced a good deal in the respect of his fellows. "But, I say, why don't you stick some lotion or something on it? It'll never get right if you don't, will it, Padger?" Padger suggested that young Greenfield might possibly have to have his cheek cut off if he didn't look-out, and Paul said the sooner he "stashed his cheek" the better.