The door was flung open, there was an inrush of boys from the passage, and the place became a perfect pandemonium.

Tables were overturned, books and magazines went whizzing about in the darkness, a grand "scrum" seemed in progress round Lucas's desk, while amid the chorus of whoops, whistles, and cat-calls the latter's voice was distinctly audible, crying in angry tones,-- "Leave me alone, you blackguards; let go, I say!" Jack and Diggory listened in amazement to the uproar with which they suddenly found themselves surrounded, and not wishing to risk the chance of having a form or a table upset on their toes, remained seated in their corner, wondering how the affair would end.
At length, piercing the general uproar, came the distant _clang, clang_ of the bell for preparation.

The tumult suddenly subsided, and there was a rush for the passage.

Hardly had this stampede been accomplished when some one struck a match and lit the gas-jet nearest the door: it was Gull.
He stood for a moment looking round the room with a sardonic smile upon his face, evidently very well pleased with the sight which met his gaze.
The place certainly presented the appearance of a town which had been bombarded, carried by storm, and pillaged for a week by some foreign foe.

Most of the furniture was upset or pulled out of place, magazines and papers lay strewn about in every direction, ink was trickling in black rivulets about the floor, and draughts and chess men seemed to have been scattered broadcast all over the place.