The crowd on the banks well knew the crisis, and shouted out their warnings and encouragements to the rival coxswains with redoubled eagerness.
"Now then, Riddell! round you go! Pull your right!" "Steered indeed, Parrett's! Bravo, Parson!" The corner was half-turned, the boats lay nearly level, each coxswain pulling hard with his right line, when suddenly there was a shock in the Parrett's boat, followed by a loud shout from Parson, and next moment the boat was shooting helplessly straight towards the bank, from which it was only saved by a prompt order to "Backwater all!" from Bloomfield.
What could it be?
The shouts on the bank died away into sudden stillness, and fellows forgot even to keep up with the schoolhouse boat, which, followed by the steam-launch, rowed steadily on towards the winning-post.
What was it?
The answer soon became known, when Parson, standing in his boat, waved the broken end of a rudder-line above his head.

At the critical point of the race this had failed, and in consequence all the efforts of the rowers were useless, and--and the schoolhouse boat was Head of the River! The rage, excitement, and disappointment at such an unlooked-for termination to the great struggle was beyond description, as the reader may imagine.

A general rush was made for the unlucky boat, and shouts and recriminations and taunts and condolences bore witness to the mixed feelings of the spectators.
Some demanded a fresh race there and then, some suggested foul play, others urged the boat to row on and make the best race they could of it, others boldly claimed the victory for Parrett's, since they led at the moment of the accident.
Amidst all this tumult the unlucky boat slowly backed into mid-stream, and turned towards home, Parson steering no longer by rudder but by word of mouth.

As it did so, a distant report announced that the schoolhouse boat had reached the winning-post; whereat the Parrett partisans set up a loud defiant shout, which they maintained during the entire homeward progress of their ill-starred boat.
Among the few who remained on the scene of the accident were Gilks and Silk, both pale and agitated.
The latter, as has been said, was painfully interested in the result of the race.

To him the defeat of Parrett's meant more than the mere disappointment of a hope or the humiliation by a rival.