The Trail of the Serpent by Mary Elizabeth Braddon

MR. JABEZ NORTH had not his little room quite to himself at Dr. Tappenden's. There are some penalties attendant even on being a good young man, and our friend Jabez sometimes found his very virtues rather inconvenient. It happened that Allecompain Junior was ill of a fever -- sometimes delirious; and as the usher was such an excellent young person, beloved by the pupils and trusted implicitly by the master, the sick little boy was put under his especial care, and a bed was made up for him in Jabez' room.

This very November night, when the usher comes up stairs, his great desk under one arm (he is very strong, this usher), and a little feeble tallow candle in his left hand, he finds the boy very ill indeed. He does not know Jabez, for he is talking of a boat-race -- a race that took place in the bright summer gone by. He is sitting up on the pillow, waving his little thin hand, and crying out at the top of his feeble voice, "Bravo, red! Red wins! Three cheers for red! Go it -- go it, red! Blue's beat -- I say blue's beat! George Harris has won the day. I've backed George Harris. I've bet six-pennorth of toffey on George Harris! Go it, red!"