triumph, shouting "Holiday!" in tones to be heard a mile off, and
bringing people in white garments, from their beds to the windows. The
least they feared was, that the town had taken fire.

Back to the house of the head-master for the pantomime to be played
through. This usually was (for the master, as wise on the subject as
they were, would lie that morning in bed) to send the master's servant
into his room with the card and the message; upon which permission for
the holiday would come out, and the boys would disperse, exercising
their legs and lungs. No such luck, however, on this morning. The
servant met them at the door, and grinned dreadfully at the crowd.

"Won't you catch it, gentlemen! The head-master's gone into school, and
is waiting for you; marking you all late, of course."

"Gone into school!" repeated Gaunt, haughtily, resenting the
familiarity, as well as the information. "What do you mean?"

"Why, I just mean that, sir," was the reply, upon which Gaunt felt
uncommonly inclined to knock him down. But the man had a propensity for
grinning, and was sure to exercise it on all possible occasions.
"There's some row up, and you are not to have holiday," continued the
servant; "the master said last night I was to call him this morning as
usual."

At this unexpected reply, the boys slunk away to the college
schoolroom, their buoyant spirits sunk down to dust and
ashes--figuratively speaking. They could not understand it; they had
not the most distant idea what their offence could have been. Gaunt
entered, and the rest trooped in after him. The head-master sat at his