Chaos reigned.
"A rat!" shouted Robinson.
The twenty-three members of the Brigade who were not earnest instantly
dealt with the situation, each in the manner that seemed proper to
him. Some leaped on to forms, others flung books, all shouted. It was
a stirring, bustling scene.
Sammy had by this time disposed of the clock-work rat, and was now
standing, like Marius, among the ruins barking triumphantly.
The banging on Mr. Downing's desk resembled thunder. It rose above all
the other noises till in time they gave up the competition and died
away.
Mr. Downing shot out orders, threats, and penalties with the rapidity
of a Maxim gun.
"Stone, sit down! Donovan, if you do not sit down, you will be
severely punished. Henderson, one hundred lines for gross disorder!
Windham, the same! Go to your seat, Vincent. What are you doing,
Broughton-Knight? I will not have this disgraceful noise and disorder!
The meeting is at an end; go quietly from the room, all of you.
Jackson and Wilson, remain. _Quietly_, I said, Durand! Don't
shuffle your feet in that abominable way."
Crash!
"Wolferstan, I distinctly saw you upset that black-board with a
movement of your hand--one hundred lines. Go quietly from the room,
everybody."
The meeting dispersed.
"Jackson and Wilson, come here. What's the meaning of this disgraceful
conduct? Put that dog out of the room, Jackson.
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