I am informing the Chairman of the Council of my decision and of the reasons which have dictated it, by to-morrow evening’s post at latest. You must take whatever steps you think right. Yours faithfully, S. E. FLAGGON. The fat, as at least half-a-dozen people said spontaneously, was in the fire, and Chiltern could think and talk of nothing else. There was a general agreement that Chowdler’s behaviour at the meeting had passed the limits of decorum; but, while the seniors maintained that the headmaster should have ignored the offence in a man whose services to the school were so notorious and of such long standing, many of the juniors held that, if Flaggon didn’t give old Chowdler the boot, he was done for. There was an equal difference of opinion as to the probable issue of the appeal. The moderates thought that there was still room for compromise. Chowdler could withdraw his offensive remarks and then Flaggon could withdraw his notice of dismissal. Others, who knew Chowdler’s love of battle, were sure that he would fight it out to the end and win. Others, again, did not see how the Council could possibly throw over a headmaster whom they had so recently appointed. To Mr. Plummer the whole episode was painful in the extreme, and the ideal of a united staff seemed farther off than ever. He was torn between two conflicting loyalties--loyalty to an official chief, and loyalty to a senior colleague. He expressed his inner feelings to Mr. Bent on one of their frequent walks, more from force of habit than because he expected to find a sympathetic listener. “Of course,” he said, “one can’t defend the way Chowdler _does_ things; and nothing could possibly have been worse than his behaviour the other day. Still, one must remember that he has had great provocation--_great_ provocation.” “That’s just like you!” replied Mr. Bent. “Chowdler is for trailing his coat across the green, and when he succeeds in tripping somebody, you say that he has had great provocation. What provocation, pray! Name!” “Well,” said Mr. Plummer, “there was the le Willow business to begin with.” “A matter of principle,” said Mr. Bent. “A headmaster who sacrificed his principles to a Chowdler, at the first summons, wouldn’t be fit to be a crossing-sweeper!” “And then there was his refusal to make Cheeny Prefect,” said Mr. Plummer doggedly. “Again a question of principle!” cried his companion. “And you’re talking as if Chowdler were the captain of the ship and Flaggon his second mate.” “No, I’m not,” said Mr. Plummer. “But, after Gussy, Chowdler’s position under a new man was bound to be difficult, and Flaggon ought to have made allowances; he ought to have been more tactful.” “Tact on Chowdler,” said Mr. Bent, “is like a feather on a hippopotamus. Chowdler doesn’t ask for tact; he demands unconditional surrender.”