The boy who held his ground is soon amongst the rest, who are all in fear of their lives.

"Did he peach ?" "Does she know about it ?" "Not a word; he's a stanch little fellow." And pausing a moment, he adds, "I'm sick of this work; what brutes we've been!" Meantime Tom is stretched on the sofa in the housekeeper's room, with East by his side, while she gets wine and water and other restoratives.
"Are you much hurt, dear old boy ?" whispers East.
"Only the back of my legs," answers Tom.

They are indeed badly scorched, and part of his trousers burnt through.

But soon he is in bed with cold bandages.

At first he feels broken, and thinks of writing home and getting taken away; and the verse of a hymn he had learned years ago sings through his head, and he goes to sleep, murmuring,-- "Where the wicked cease from troubling, And the weary are at rest." But after a sound night's rest, the old boy-spirit comes back again.
East comes in, reporting that the whole house is with him; and he forgets everything, except their old resolve never to be beaten by that bully Flashman.
Not a word could the housekeeper extract from either of them, and though the Doctor knew all that she knew that morning, he never knew any more.
I trust and believe that such scenes are not possible now at school, and that lotteries and betting-books have gone out; but I am writing of schools as they were in our time, and must give the evil with the good..