“God bless me, my man, don’t interrupt!  I tell you, we are satisfied.  We don’t sigh for the moon; and we’re not talking of your shortcomings.  We haven’t time, bless me, we haven’t time.  We’re only talking of your virtues, which won’t occupy many minutes.  We are satisfied that you’re not altogether a fool—­that you do some work—­that you have some moral courage—­that you’re an athlete—­and—­what else was the matter, with him, Mr. Radley?—­oh, that you have some position with your schoolfellows.  We make you a house-prefect, sir, a house-prefect.”

Staggered beyond measure, I suppose I showed it in my face, for Salome continued: 

“Ee, my man, take off that ridiculous expression.  I congratulate you, sir—­congratulate you.”

And I mechanically shook hands with him.  Then Radley gripped my fingers and nearly broke the knuckle-bones.  Fillet also formally proffered his hand, and I pressed it quite heartily.  It was no good gloating over a man when he was down.

After this ceremony all waited for Salome to clinch proceedings, which he did as offensively as possible by saying: 

“Ee, bless me, my man, don’t stand there idling all day.  Go out at once and establish order.”

I went slowly down the stairs to the entrance, and, facing the crowd, was greeted with a fire of questions:  “Did you do it?” “What did he say?” “How did he take it?” “Didn’t you do it?”

“No,” I said, and there was a temporary silence.

“Why not?  Why not?”

“Because it wasn’t the thing.”

While no more eloquence came to my lips, plenty flowed from those of the boys before me.  For a moment their execration seemed likely to turn upon me.  At last I made myself heard.

“You see,” I shouted, “only cads dispute the decision of the referee.”

“Yes, but there are exceptions to every rule,” said Penny’s voice.

And here I sipped the sweets of authority.

“Well, there isn’t going to be any exception in this case,” I said.

The crowd detected something humorous in my high-handed sentence and laughed sarcastically.  So, giving up all attempts to be persuasive, I said bluntly: 

“Look here, Salome’s upstairs, and he’s made me a prefect and sent me down to establish order.”

There were elements of greatness in Pennybet.  He willingly acknowledged that the coup d’etat was not his but Salome’s, and the riot must inevitably crumble away.  So he made a point of leading the cheers that greeted my announcement, and, coming forward, was the first to congratulate me.  His example was extensively followed, while he looked on approvingly, as though it had all been his doing, and chirruped every now and then:  “This is the jolliest day I’ve spent at Kensingtowe.”

CHAPTER XI

THE GREAT MATCH

Sec.1