None looked cheerful, not a few looked savage.

The exception in point of age was a well set-up, square-shouldered, proud- faced senior, who entered with an air of reckless disgust which was not comfortable to look at, and might be dangerous if provoked.

None of us spoke to Tempest, and he vouchsafed no sign of recognition of us.
A squad of the school volunteers, chiefly composed of smart boys from Mr Selkirk's house, were concluding drill as we entered, and of course took stock of our dejected looks and of Tempest's unwonted appearance as they filed out.
"A row on, eh ?" whispered one, as he passed us.
"It doesn't look like fun, does it ?" snarled Langrish.
"Where does Tempest come in ?" persisted the inquirer.
"By the door; and the sooner you get out by it the better." "Ha, ha!--poor little naughty boys.

An extra drill will do you good.
Come on, you chaps.

Let's leave them to enjoy themselves.