FullReads

He must have needed courage indeed, as the sorry culprits filed into Court: for I verily believe he felt more shame than they, though their appearance might be held to prove this impossible. The police at about eleven o’clock had raided the booth of that respectable landlord, Mr Bates (‘Which,’ observed the Superintendent, stonily, ‘we may ‘ave somethink to say to ‘im, as it were, by-and-by’) and had culled some of them–even as one picks the unresisting primrose, others not without recourse to persuasion. ‘Many of ’em,’ the Superintendent explained, ‘showed a liveliness you wouldn’t believe. It was, in a manner of speaking, beyond anythink y’r Worships would expect.’ He paused a moment, cleared his throat, and achieved this really fine phrase: ‘It was, for their united ages, in a manner of speaking, a knock-out.’

I see them now as they filed into court–yellow in the gills, shaking between present fear and the ebb of excess. But I see Sir Felix also, a trifle red in the face, gripping the arms of his chair, bending forward and confronting them.

For a moment I imagined he meant to address them as a crowd. But his fine sense of business prevailed, and he signed to the Clerk to read the first charge.

He dealt with the charges, one by one, and in detail. Alone he inflicted the fines, while we sat and listened with eyes glued upon the baize table. And the fines were heavy–too heavy. It was not for us to interfere.

At the end I expected some few words of general rebuke. I believe the culprits themselves would have been glad of a tongue-lashing. But he uttered none. To the end he dealt out justice, none aiding him; and when the business was over, pushed back his chair.

We filed out after him. I believe that he has paid all the fines out of his own pocket.

And Troy laughs. But I believe it is safe to say that, while Sir Felix lives, Kirris-vean will not hold a second Regatta.