His countenance was too forbidding for us to venture on our promised cheer.

Something unusual had happened.

How we longed to know what it was! I was thrust forward to follow him to his study, on the chance of ascertaining, and was on the point of obeying, when a terrific sound broke the silence of the night, and sent us back with white, rigid faces in a heap into the faggery.
The sound proceeded from the direction of the gymnasium--first of all, a dull, spasmodic thunder; then a fierce burst, followed almost immediately by two tremendous reports which shook us to the soles of our boots.
It reminded me of that fearful night at Dangerfield, when Tempest-- I clung on to Langrish, who was next to me, in mute despair, and Langrish in turn embraced Trimble.
"Those," gasped the voice of Coxhead, "were the--ginger--beer--bottles.
What--shall--we--do ?" "Cut to bed sharp!" said the resolute though quavering voice of Warminster, "and lie low." "There won't be much of him left," whispered Trimble, "that's one good thing," as we huddled off our clothes in the dark in the dormitory.
It was a gleam of comfort, certainly.

Effigies of that kind, when they do go off, leave few marks of identity behind them.
"Who let it off ?" I ventured to ask.

"No one knew about it except us." "Look out! There's somebody coming!" It was Mr Sharpe, who looked in, candle in hand, to see if any one had been disturbed by the noise.