In his zeal for the liberty of his new companions, our hero did not
consider that he was infringing upon the liberties of a man who had never
done him any injury, and over whom he had no right to exercise any
control.

Upon his return to Dr. Campbell's, Forester heard the sound of a violin;
and he found that his enemy, M. Pasgrave, the dancing-master, was
attending Archibald Mackenzie: he learnt, that he was engaged to give
another lesson the next evening; and the plans of the confederates in
the ball-alley were arranged accordingly. In Dr. Campbell's room Forester
remembered to have seen a skeleton in a glass case; he seized upon it,
carried it down to his companions, and placed it in a niche in the
wall, on the landing-place of a flight of stone stairs down which the
dancing-master was obliged to go. A butcher's son (one of Forester's new
companions) he instructed to stand at a certain hour behind the skeleton,
with two rushlights, which he was to hold up to the eye-holes in the
skull.

The dancing-master's steps were heard approaching at the expected hour;
and the boys stood in ambush to enjoy the diversion of the sight. It was
a dark night; the fiery eyes of the skeleton glared suddenly upon the
dancing-master, who was so terrified at the spectacle, and in such haste
to escape, that his foot slipped, and he fell down the stone steps: his
ankle was sprained by the fall, and he was brought to Dr. Campbell's.
Forester was shocked at this tragical end of his intended comedy. The
poor man was laid upon a bed, and he writhed with pain. Forester, with
vehement expressions of concern, explained to Dr. Campbell the cause of
this accident, and he was much touched by the dancing-master's good
nature, who, between every twinge of pain, assured him that he should
soon be well, and endeavoured to avert Dr. Campbell's displeasure.