The expedition had begun to move off with quiet dignity, when from the
doorway in the wall there poured forth a stream of mortar-boarded
warriors, shrieking defiance. The expedition advanced to meet them.

As usual, the Judies had the advantage in numbers, and, filled to the
brim with righteous indignation, they were proceeding to make things
uncommonly warm for the invaders--Painter had lost his cap, and Tomlin
three waistcoat buttons--when the eye of Jackson, roving up and down
the street, was caught by a Seymour's cap. He was about to shout for
assistance when he perceived that the newcomer was Sheen, and
refrained. It was no use, he felt, asking Sheen for help.

But just as Sheen arrived and the ranks of the expedition were
beginning to give way before the strenuous onslaught of the Judies, the
latter, almost with one accord, turned and bolted into their playground
again. Looking round, Tomlin, that first of generals, saw the reason,
and uttered a warning.

A mutual foe had appeared. From a passage on the left of the road there
had debouched on to the field of action Albert himself and two of his
band.

The expedition flew without false shame. It is to be doubted whether
one of Albert's calibre would have troubled to attack such small game,
but it was the firm opinion of the Wrykyn fags and the Judies that he
and his men were to be avoided.

The newcomers did not pursue them. They contented themselves with
shouting at them. One of the band threw a stone.