"You'll be caught to a certainty, and bunked if you're caught!"
That was Chips, in desperation now.
"And a good job too! I've had about enough of this place."
That was the Jan of their first term together.
"And it's raining like the very dickens!"
This was the child in Crabtree's corner, an insensible little sinner, who seemed to take the imminent enormity as an absolute matter of course.
"So much the better," said Jan. "I'll take a brolly and run all the less risk of being seen, and you see if I don't bring you all something from the fair."
"It's something he's gone and got to-day," whispered Bingley for Chips's consolation. "It's all a swizzle, you'll see."
"You look out of the window in about five minutes," retorted Jan from the door, "and p'r'aps you'll see!"
And out he actually stole, carrying the clean boots that he had brought up to dormitory in readiness for first school, and leaving Chips in muzzled consternation on the threshold.
The rain pelted on the skylight over the stairs. It had been a showery day, but it was a very wet night, and Jan was almost as glad of it as he had just professed himself. He saw a distant complication of wet clothes, but as a mere umbrella among umbrellas he stood a really fair chance of not being seen. It was still only a chance; but that was half the fun. And fun it was, though a terrifying form of fun, and though Jan was already feeling a bit unsound about the knees; he had to go on with it; there was as yet no question in his mind about that, and hardly any looking back at the ridiculous combination of taunt and impulse which had committed him to this mad adventure.
