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Cook, out of patience, called “Jabez Clegg!” more than once, in anything but satisfactory tones; and then, patience exhausted, came to the top of the dairy-stairs. Then she heard Jabez, as if addressing some one, say: “Oh, you would, would you?” and the commotion having drawn her so far down the steps that she could peer into the cellar and see what was going on, she set up a prolonged scream. This was just as Jabez, shifting the position of his whip, brought the butt-end down on the head of the snake with all the force of his stout young arm, and his exhausted foe dropped, literally whipped to death.

The woman’s screams brought not only the governor and the school-master, but Dr. Stone, the librarian, to the spot. And there stood Jabez, all his prowess gone, with his back towards them, his head down on his arms, which rested on the stone slab, sobbing violently for the very life he had just destroyed.

“Oh, he’s bin bitten—he’s been bitten! The vemonous thing’s bitten the lad! He’ll die after it!” cried the cook in an ecstacy of terror.