Charles Cave was holding his cigarette behind his back, and waving airily to the study windows with the other hand.
"It's all right, sir; you needn't hurry; only I thought you might like to know there was a light up there this minute!"
The stampede back across the gravel was in signal contrast to the stealthy and circumspect advance; and many a late laggard found himself swept off his feet in the van; but Sprawson outstripped all with a rush that spilt the small fry right and left, and he was first up the study stairs. But the Spook panted after him, and once more insisted on taking the actual lead.
The procession which he headed down the long study passage was no longer the somewhat faltering force which had deployed in the moonlit quad; it was as though confidence had come with protracted immunity, and high spirits had come of confidence; in any case, Sprawson had to lay about him more than once to stop a giggle or a merry scuffle in the dark. He appealed to Loder to keep better order (Cave major was finishing his cigarette quietly in the quad), and Loder promptly smacked the unoffending head of Chips. Merriment, moreover, was unpreventible under the Spook's leadership in the study passage; for into each of the little dark dens would he peer after pounding on the door with the blunt end of the Kaffir battle-axe, and his cry was always, "Come out, fellow!" or "You'd better come out, my man!" or "It's fourteen years for this, you know; only fourteen years' hard labour!" and once—"You think I can see you, but I can't!"—a signal instance of absence of mind in the presence of danger.
There were other diversions to which the Spook did not contribute, as when Sprawson screamed "Got him!"
