disagreement which had lately estranged them from their unfortunate
school-fellow, and joined heartily in the general outburst of wrath and
consternation.

The thought that Diggory, their well-beloved, was at that very moment
languishing, a prisoner of war, in the hands of the Philistines was
almost unbearable.

"What will they do with him?"--"Where have they put him?"--"How can we
rescue the fellow?" were questions which everybody was asking, but no
one could answer. It seemed altogether beyond their power to do
anything, and yet there was not a boy who would not have given his
dearest possession, were it a white rat or a stamp collection, if by
parting with it he could have rendered some assistance to his ill-fated
comrade.

"There's only half an hour before tea," said Vance, looking up at the
clock; "if anything can be done, we must do it at once."

The precious moments sped away, but in vain did the assembly rack their
brains for some plan of action which might in any way be likely to serve
the purpose they had in view. The first wild suggestion, that they
should go in a body and carry Horace House by storm, was abandoned as
impracticable; in hopeless inactivity they stood watching the long
hand of the clock creep up from six till twelve.

The first tea-bell had just finished ringing, when there was a sound of
footsteps hurrying along the passage, the door burst open, and in rushed
no other person than Diggory himself!