The scene was not over when the door suddenly opened, and Mr. Rose appeared.  He stood amazed to see Montagu there in his night-shirt, the boys all round, and Brigson washing his nose, which was bleeding profusely, at his basin.

Montagu instantly stepped up to him.  “You can trust me, sir; may I ask you kindly to say nothing of this?  I have been thrashing some one that deserved it, and teaching these fellows a lesson.”

Mr. Rose saw and allowed for his excited manner.  “I can trust you,” he said, “Montagu, and shall take no farther notice of this irregularity.  And now get instantly to your beds.”

But Montagu, slipping on his clothes, went straight up to the studies, and called the upper boys together.  He briefly told them what had occurred, and they rejoiced greatly, binding themselves for the future to check, if they could, by all fair means, Brigson’s pernicious influence and abominable example.

But it was too late now; the mischief was done.

“O Eric,” said Montagu, “why did you not make a stand against all this before?  Your own brother was one of them.”

“Little wretch.  I’ll kick him well for it,” said Eric.

“No, no!” said Montagu, “that’ll do no good.  Try rather to look after him a little more.”

“I hope you will forgive him, and try and rescue him.”

“I will do what I can,” said Montagu, coldly.

Eric sighed, and they parted.

Montagu had hoped that after this Eric would at least break off all open connection with Brigson; and, indeed, Eric had meant to do so.  But that personage kept carefully out of his way until the first burst of indignation against him had subsided, and after a time began to address Eric as if nothing had happened.  Meanwhile he had completely regained his ascendancy over the lower part of the school, which was not difficult, because they were wincing under Montagu’s contempt, and mingled no little dislike with it; a dislike which all are too apt to feel towards those whose very presence and moral superiority are a tacit rebuke of their own failings.  But while Montagu was hated, Eric was at the zenith of popular favor, a favor which Brigson ostentatiously encouraged.  He was openly flattered and caressed, and if ever he got a large score at cricket, it was chalked triumphantly over the walls.  All this he was weak enough to enjoy immensely, and it was one of the reasons why he did not wish to risk his popularity by breaking with Brigson.  So, after a little constraint and coldness, he began to stand in much the same relation to him as before.

The best-disposed of the upper boys disliked all this very much, and the sixth and fifth forms began to be split up into two main parties—­the one, headed by Eric, and, to a much less degree, by Duncan, who devoted themselves to the games and diversions of the school, and troubled themselves comparatively little about anything else; the other, headed by Montagu, who took the lead in intellectual pursuits, and endeavored, by every means in their power, to counteract the pernicious effects of the spreading immorality.