‘You’ll tell him yourself.  You’re going home along with me,’ cried Harold.  ’There!  I’ll not stir a step till you’ve promised!  Why, if you make off now, ’twill be the way to make them think you have something to run away for, like that rascal.’

‘Very well,’ said Paul, rather dreamily.

‘Then you won’t?’ said Harold.  ‘Upon your word and honour?’

Paul said the words after him, not much as if he knew what he was about; and Harold, rather alarmed at the sound of the Grange clock striking, gave a cut to the pony, and bounded on, only looking back to see that Paul was seating himself by the side of the lane.  Harold said to himself that his mother would not have liked to see him do so after such a ducking, but he knew that he was more tenderly treated than other lads, and with reason for precaution too; and he promised himself soon to be bringing Paul home to be dried and warmed.

But he was less speedy than he intended.  When he arrived at the school, he had first to account to the servants for his being so late, and then he was obliged to wait while the owner of the registered letter was to sign the green paper, acknowledging its safe delivery.

Instead of having the receipt brought back to him, there came a message that he was to go up to tell the master and the young gentlemen all about the robbery.

So the servant led the way, and Harold followed a little shy, but more curious.  The boys were in school, a great bare white-washed room, looking very cold, with a large arched window at one end, and forms ranged in squares round the hacked and hewed deal tables.  Harold thought he should tell Alfred that the young gentlemen had not much the advantage of themselves in their schoolroom.

The boys were mostly smaller than he was, only those of the uppermost form being of the same size.  There might be about forty of them, looking rather red and purple with the chilly morning, and all their eighty eyes, black or brown, blue or grey, fixed at once upon the young postman as he walked into the room, straight and upright, in his high stout gaiters over his cord trousers, his thick rough blue coat and red comforter, with his cap in his hand, his fair hair uncovered, and his blue eyes and rosy cheeks all the more bright for that strange morning’s work.  He was a well-mannered boy, and made his bow very properly to Mr. Carter, the master, who sat at his high desk.

‘So, my little man,’ said the master, ’I hear you’ve had a fight for our property this morning.  You’ve saved this young gentleman’s birthday present of a watch, and he wants to thank you.’

‘Thank you, Sir,’ said Harold; ’but he’d have been too much for me if Paul hadn’t come to help.  He’s a deal bigger than me.’

The boys all made a thumping and scuffling with their feet, as if to applaud Harold; and their master said, ‘Tell us how it was.’

Harold gave the account in a very good simple manner, only he did not say who the robber was—­he did not like to do so—­indeed, he would not quite believe it could be his old friend Dick.  The boys clapped and thumped doubly when he came to the switching, and still more at the tumble into the water.