“I don’t know.  But, then, there’s the bar outside.”

“Oh, I’ll manage that.  But will you go and peep through the key-hole of the library, and see who’s there, Duncan?”

“No,” said Duncan, bluntly, “no key-holes for me.”

“Hush! then I will,” and he glided away, while Eric, as quietly as he could, broke away the glass until it was all removed.

“There’s only old Stupid,” whispered he, irreverently designating an under-master named Harley, “and he’s asleep before the fire.  Now, then, just lift me up, Eric, will you?”

Eric lifted him, and he removed the nails which fastened the end of the bar.  They looked secure enough, and were nails an inch long driven into the mortar; but they had been successfully loosened, and only wanted a little pull to bring them out.  In one minute Wildney had unfastened and pushed down one end of the bar.  He then got through the broken pane, and dropped down outside.  Eric followed with some little difficulty, for the aperture would only just admit his passage; and Duncan, going back to the study, anxiously awaited their return.

It was a bright moonlight night, and the autumn air was pleasant and cool.  But Eric’s first thought, as he dropped on to the ground, was one of shame that he should suffer his new friend, a mere child, so easily to tempt him into disobedience and sin.  He had hardly thought till then of what their errand was to be, but now his couldn’t help so strongly disapproving of it, that he was half-inclined to turn back.  He did not, however, dare to suggest this, lest Wildney should charge him with cowardice, and betray it to the rest.  Besides, the adventure had its own excitement, the stars looked splendid, and the stolen waters were sweet.

“I hope we shan’t be seen crossing the play-ground,” said Wildney.  “My eye, shouldn’t we catch it!”

He was obviously beginning to be afraid, so Eric assumed an air of nonchalance, and played the part of protector.

“Here, take my arm,” he said; and as Wildney grasped it tight, instead of feeling angry and ashamed at having been misled by one so much his junior, Eric felt strongly drawn towards him by community of danger and interest.  Beaching Ellan, it suddenly struck him that he didn’t know where they were going to buy the beer.  He asked Wildney.

“Oh, I see you’re not half up to snuff,” said Wildney, whose courage had risen; “I’ll show you.”

He led to a little low public-house, whence tipsy songs were booming, and tapped at a side door three times.  As they looked in they saw some sailors boozing in a dirty tap-room, and enveloped in tobacco-smoke.

The side-door was opened, and a cunning wicked-looking man held up a light to see who they were.

“Hollo, Billy,” said Wildney, confidentially, “all serene; give us two bottles of beer—­on tick, you know.”

“Yessir—­d’reckly,” said the man, with a hateful twinkle of the eyes.  “So you’re out for a spree,” he continued, winking in a knowing way.  “Won’t you walk into the back-parlor while I get them?” And he showed them into a dingy horrid room behind the house, stale with smoke, and begrimed with dust.