And now we will permit you to go, marching out single file, without looking back.

But first, through your leader you must give your word never to mention this meeting to anyone.
If you refuse this promise we shall punish you as only the Black Monks of Asia know how to punish persons who have offended the order.

The leader will please step forward." There was a moment's whispered conversation among the freshmen.

Then Grace, urged by her friends, said: "We promise." "Now march out, single file, as agreed," resumed the Black Monk of Asia, his voice trembling a little with suppressed emotion of some sort.
The girls started to move out of the enclosure single file, Grace leading the procession, when a gust of wind blew the robe of the leading monk apart, disclosing a navy blue serge walking-skirt.

Grace's quick eye caught sight of the skirt at once, and breaking from the line, she charged straight into the group of black monks, crying: "Sophomores! Sophomores!" The other girls ran after her, screaming at the tops of their voices; and there might have been almost a free fight between the two classes had not the Black Monks of Asia scattered in every direction, running at utmost speed.
"Come on back, girls," cried Grace in a disgusted tone.
She had chased a monk half-way across the orchard; then stopped to wonder what she would do if she caught the tall, black-robed individual who had indecorously caught up her skirts and was flying well ahead over the rough ground.
One by one the plebes returned to their meeting place.
"Well, that was a sell!" uttered Nora disgustedly.