A good many were rather disgusted with Gould when he talked in the way he did, and Buller let him see it. "It's awfully bad form to ask a fellow to your house, and then boast that he can't do things that he never tried before, so well as you can," he blurted out.

"Oh, of course, we and know that Crawley is perfect in your eyes," sneered Gould.

"That's rot," said Buller elegantly; "but I do know this, that you might have practised anything you know, shooting, riding, anything, all your life, and if Crawley had a week's practice he would beat your head off at it; come, then, I'll bet you what you like."

"That is impossible to prove."

"No matter, it does not need proof; every fellow with eyes in his head must see it. But that's nothing. If you were ever so much better it would be just as mean to brag about it."

Crawley had no idea that Gould bore him any grudge, and being grateful to him for his invitation, sought to give him those opportunities of intimacy which he had evidently coveted before. But it was Gould now who drew back, somewhat to the other's relief, for he could not bring himself to care much about him.

Well, all this foolish talk of Gould's did have a certain effect: a good many boys lost some faith in their idol, and began to suspect that its feet might be of clay. And then Crawley took to reading very hard that term, for his time for trying to get into Woolwich was approaching, and he was very anxious not to fail; and this made him less sociable, which affected his popularity. It did not interfere with his sports; he was as energetic at football as ever, and took his usual pains to make the boys pay up their subscriptions, for he was secretary and treasurer. But that was not exactly a genial duty, though everybody was glad that somebody else would take the trouble. And for the rest, he was now always working hard or playing hard.

"Hulloa, Edwards!" he said one day about the middle of term, "you have been very lazy about your football lately; you promised to be good at it, you know. It's a pity to give it up."

"But I have not," said Edwards. "I am going in for it again now." And he meant it; for the last penny of the loan had vanished, and he felt the need of excitement and action of some kind.

"That's right, old fellow," said Crawley. "Of course you play for your house against ours in the match."

"I believe so."

"Come and have a game this afternoon," said Crawley, turning back after they had parted; for the pallid and careworn face of the other struck him, and he thought very likely a little exercise and bustle was just what he wanted, but that he felt listless, as one does sometimes, when one is glad afterwards if some one else will save us the trouble of making up our minds, and start us.

"No, thanks," replied Edwards, "I can't come to-day, I have something else I must do. But I shall practise regularly after to-day." And he went on his way to meet Saurin, and go with him to Slam's yard.

For a crisis had arrived in their affairs which assumed a most serious aspect. It was no longer a question of obtaining the means of continuing their gambling; they had awakened from that dream, and saw what dupes they had been. And indeed the Slams, father and son, found that their little game was being talked about in the neighbourhood too freely for safety, and had abruptly discontinued it. Josiah, indeed, was about to take his departure altogether, and in announcing that intention to Saurin and Edwards, demanded immediate payment of the money he had advanced them, in consideration of which they had jointly signed an acknowledgment for five pounds. They had, indeed, kept away from the yard when their money was all gone, but Josiah Slam was not to be balked in that manner. He went over to Weston, and accosted Saurin in the street.

"I cannot pay you just now; don't speak to me here, we shall be seen," said Saurin.

"What do I care for that?" replied Josiah. "If you don't come to me I'll come to you."

"I will come to the yard to-morrow afternoon, only do go away now," urged Saurin.

"You had better," said the man significantly. And so Saurin and Edwards were now on their way to the yard.

"Well, gents, have you got the money?" asked Josiah Slam, who admitted them. "I hope so, for I wants to be off, and I'm only a-waiting for that."

"No," replied Saurin, "we have not got it; it is not likely. We did not sign that paper until we had lost everything to you, and we shall not have any more till after Easter. Perhaps we may pay you then, though I don't consider we owe you anything really. You have won it all back, and a lot more besides."

"What's that to do with it?" cried young Slam. "You had as good a chance of winning of me, hadn't yer?"

"No, of course not," replied Saurin. "I am not certain that we had any chance at all."

"What d'yer mean? yer—"

"Oh, don't bluster and try to bully," said Saurin. "I'm not afraid of you."

"Oh, you're not, ain't yer, my game chicken? but I have got your I O U."

"Much good may it do you! Why, we are under age, and it's of no value at all."

"And you call yerself a gentleman! Yah! But I'm not so green as yer think, my boy. Of course I knowed it warn't a legal dokiment. But it's proof enough for me. If you don't pay I shall take it to yer master, and see if he won't pay it for yer."

"Don't be a fool; you know very well he would not."

"No, I don't; at any rate I shall try it on."

"It would do you no good, I tell you."

"If not, it would do you two chaps harm, I know; why, you would get it pretty hot if yer master knowed yer had come here at all; and if he found you'd been playing cards on a Sunday, and roulette, and pawning yer watches and things, I'll bet a hundred it wouldn't make it better. Gents like you can allus get money somehow; write to yer friends; it's only two pun ten apiece, and they won't stick at that to get you out of such a shindy as this will be. This here's Thursday and I'm bound to go on Monday. If you don't bring them five pounds by then, I'll go to your master with that 'ere I O U in my hand on Monday morning as sure as I stand here. So now you know."

And with this ultimatum the rascal dismissed them. They walked slowly along the lane leading to Weston with hearts as heavy as could be, for indeed they were at their wits' end. If this fellow fulfilled his threat, and they had no doubt he would, it most certainly would result in expulsion for them both. To write home for more money was out of the question, for each had exhausted every conceivable excuse for doing so already, and any further application would only bring a letter to Dr Jolliffe asking the reason for all this extravagance, instead of cash, and so precipitate the calamity rather than ward it off. A less shameful peccadillo might have been confessed, but this low-lived gambling, this association with a fellow like Josiah Slam, how could it be spoken of? Impossible! Well, but what was to be done? Anything, anything to stave off the immediate peril; but what? That thought haunted each of them all day and during a sleepless night, and when they met on the following morning each looked at the other to see if he could detect any gleam of hope in his face.

"Look here," said Saurin, "there is just a chance, not a good one, but still a chance. That fellow Gould always has heaps of money, and from all these stories of Crawley's visit to him at Christmas his people must be very rich. Now he is not a generous fellow, but he likes to show off. And if we went to him and told him all about it, and that we were dead certain to be expelled if we could not raise five pounds, do you not think he might lend it us till after Easter?"

"I am afraid he won't," replied Edwards, "but it is worth trying."

"You see, it would be something for him to brag about afterwards," continued Saurin. "It would make him look important and influential that he had got two fellows out of such a row, and was the only one in the school who could do it."

"It is worth trying at any rate," said Edwards. "Ask him this afternoon."



CHAPTER FIFTEEN.

A CRIME.

Once every term the cricket and football committees assembled to transact business. They learned what funds were in hand, what subscriptions had been paid and what were in arrear, also the expenditure for balls, nets, goals, stumps, rolling the ground, and all other items. After which, rules were discussed, and arrangements for future matches made. It was part of the principle of the school that the boys should manage all these things for themselves, as it was considered that to learn practically how to set such matters going and keep them in order was quite as educational as to acquire the right use of the subjunctive. All that the authorities had to do with the arrangement was that when the day and hour for a committee meeting was fixed, the master in whose house the secretary was, gave leave for his pupil-room to be used for the occasion; and it was also customary to ask one of them to audit the accounts. These assemblages were of a twofold character: during the first part, when the accounts were read out, and what had been done gone over, any boy who liked might attend and ask questions. But when arrangements for the future were discussed, the room was cleared of all but the committee. Experience had brought that about; for when outsiders had been allowed to remain, the number and variety of absurd and futile suggestions which were made, prevented any conclusion being come to at all.

Since Crawley was the secretary and treasurer of both the cricket and football clubs there was only one general meeting, at which the accounts of both were taken together, instead of two in the term, as when those offices were vested in different individuals. Crawley had found these burdens rather onerous this term; with that stiff examination looming nearer and nearer every month he began to feel serious, for he had set his heart upon getting into the artillery if he could, and he was going at his subjects in downright earnest, with no shirking or trifling when the humour was not on him. So that the time it took him to prepare these accounts, and still worse, to collect the subscriptions, he did rather grudge. But he never dreamed of resigning on that account; he had undertaken these duties, and would go on with them without grumbling. Perhaps he had the feeling which energetic folk who are accustomed to other people leaning on them are naturally apt to acquire, that things would get into a muddle without him. However he had got in the subscriptions, docketed his papers, and prepared everything for the meeting that evening, and the last finishing stroke being put, he locked all up in the japanned box which he kept in his room, with "Weston Cricket Club" neatly painted on it in white letters, changed his clothes for flannels, and ran out to the football field.

He had not been gone a quarter of an hour before Saurin and Edwards approached the house on their visit to Gould, who was also an inmate of Dr Jolliffe's. They had chosen that time in order to find him alone, for he had had a slight sprain of the ankle—not enough to lay him up altogether, but sufficient to prevent his playing at football; and as he was rather glad than otherwise of an excuse to sit in with a novel, the chances were that he was now so occupied. It was a fine March day, with a bright sun and a cold east wind—not high enough to be unpleasant though, unless you dawdled about. When they came to the side-door which led to the boys' part of the house, which was a separate block of buildings from the doctor's residence, though joined to and communicating with it, Saurin stopped and said: "I think perhaps you had better wait here for me; I shall get on better with him alone."

"All right!" replied Edwards with a feeling of relief, for he dreaded the interview with Gould beyond measure. It is nervous work to ask anyone to lend you money, unless you are quite hardened. Saurin felt that too; it was a bitter pill for his pride to swallow, with the prospect on one side of a refusal and on the other of being subjected to insolent airs of superiority, for Gould was not the fellow to grant a favour graciously. But he had a stronger will than Edwards, and the situation made extreme measures necessary.

He entered the passage alone, then, and mounted the staircase, not meeting anyone. Dead stillness pervaded the house except for the trills of a canary at the far end of the second landing. Crawley's door was open as he passed, and he saw his clothes strewn about over a couple of chairs and the japanned box standing in a corner by his bureau. Saurin passed on, the song of the canary growing louder as he advanced, and knocked at Gould's door; there was no response. "Gould!" he cried, "Gould! are you in?" As there was still no answer he turned the handle and looked in; there was the canary hanging in the window, through which the sun poured, and his shrill notes went through his head; but no Gould. "Plague take it!" muttered Saurin; "it is all to do now another time, and I cannot get this suspense over. I wonder where the fellow has gone to!"

He closed the door again and retraced his steps slowly. When he repassed Crawley's room he stopped and listened. Not a sound except the bird's song. His heart beat so quickly that it was like to choke him, and he grew quite giddy. "Crawley!" he said in an unsteady voice, for though he saw the room was empty he had an insane fancy that he might be there, invisible, or that this mist before his eyes might prevent his seeing him. Then he mastered his apprehensions with an effort, and stepped into the room. Going to a chair, he felt the coat which hung over the back; there were keys in the pocket. Then he listened again; not a sound, for the singing of the canary had stopped. Ten minutes later Saurin went down-stairs quietly, stealthily. He found Edwards waiting for him outside, took him by the arm, and led him away.

"Have you seen anyone?" he asked eagerly, but in a voice which he could not keep from trembling.

"Not a soul," replied Edwards.

"Then, come a long to my tutor's—quick! get your flannels on; and we will go into the football field. We are late, but can get in on one side or another."

"But, have you succeeded? Will Gould lend the money?"

"No, he won't; and I would not have fellows know I asked him for worlds; so I am glad no one saw us."

Saurin was as white as a sheet, he trembled all over, and there was a look in his eyes as of a hunted animal. That one in whose courage, presence of mind, and resources he trusted so entirely should be affected to such a degree as this, appalled poor Edwards; what a black gulf, indeed, must yawn before them!

"Is there no chance at all, then?" he asked in piteous accents.

"Yes, it will be all right; I—I have thought of something else," stammered Saurin. "Don't mind me—I'm knocked over by asking a favour and being refused; that's all. I shall be all right directly. Only swear you will never say a word to anyone about it. I tell you I have thought of a way to silence that villain Slam, and I will go and see him the first chance. It will be all right if you only hold your tongue. And now look sharp and let us change and go and play football; there's lots of time."

They had reached their own rooms by this, and Edwards did what Saurin told him, wondering, but partly reassured; and in a few minutes they were on their way to the football field, where they were hailed by their own house and paired off on different sides.

Saurin had sulkily retired from all the school sports for some time, and the boys wondered at the energy with which he now rushed into the game. The fact was he felt the necessity for violent exertion to escape reflection and drown thought in fatigue. He could not do it, but he succeeded in regaining the mastery over his nerves, his looks, his speech. As for Edwards, he played more listlessly than usual; and the thought occurred to several that afternoon that if Saurin would only take up regular practice again he would be a greater source of strength to the house team than Edwards. And they wanted to be as strong as possible, for the match with the doctor's house was approaching, and they feared that they were a little overmatched.

That evening a good many boys were assembled in Dr Jolliffe's pupil- room to hear the reports concerning the cricket and football clubs, which were really one, as the same subscribers belonged to both, and it was only for clearness and to avoid confusion of accounts that they were treated separately; besides that, one boy could not always be found to undertake, like Crawley, the management of both. There were the committees, and besides them a sprinkling of the curious, who did not care to listen to the debit and credit accounts, but had the Anglo-Saxon instinct for attending public meetings of any kind, so that the room, though not half full, contained a respectable audience, when Crawley with his japanned box in his hand entered, and went to the place reserved for him at the head of the table.

"I have not a long story to tell you," he said, producing his keys and inserting one in the lock of the box. "Fellows have paid up pretty well, and we are rather in funds. The principal expense has been a new roller which we were obliged to have, the old one being quite worn out, and besides, as many of you have often observed, not heavy enough. Indeed the committee have been blamed rather severely by enthusiastic cricketers on this score, as if they had taken weight out of the roller, or could put extra weight into it; and I have sometimes thought that if the critics would have sat on the roller instead of on us, it would have been more effective." Laughter; for a little joke goes a long way on these solemn occasions. "Mr Rabbits has kindly audited our accounts, which are satisfactory, I believe; here they are, if any one likes to look at them. We do not owe anything, and there are two pounds in hand for the football, and seven pounds twelve shillings for the cricket accounts, which I have here. Hulloa! what is this?" and Crawley changed countenance as he opened a portmonnaie which he took out of the box, and drew from it a five-pound note. "I have been robbed!" he cried. "There were four half-sovereigns, two sovereigns, and twelve shillings in silver, besides this bank-note in the purse this morning, and now there is only the five-pound note here!"

The consternation caused by this announcement was so great that for quite a quarter of a minute there was a dead silence, and then ejaculations, suggestions, questions, began to pour.

"Perhaps it is loose in the box," said some one, and the papers were immediately all taken out, and the box turned upside down to prove the futility of that perhaps.

"Well, never mind; of course I am responsible," said Crawley presently, recovering himself. "I was taken by surprise, or I should not have made all this fuss. The money will not be wanted till the cricketing season begins next term, and I can make it good by then."

Outsiders then took their departure, leaving the committee to any deliberations that might remain, and carrying the news of the robbery far and wide, so that it became the principal topic of conversation throughout the school that evening. Of course it lost nothing in the telling, and some received the information that Crawley's room had been regularly cleared out that day, all his books, clothes, and pictures taken, besides five pounds of his own and twenty of the public money.

The committee had not much business to transact. The day for the match at football between Dr Jolliffe's and Mr Cookson's houses was settled, a suggestion that some new turf should be laid down on a part of the cricket-field where the grass had been worn past recovery was agreed to, and the members who did not board at Dr Jolliffe's were back at their own houses before "All In."

But the excitement about the loss of this money was naturally greater in the house where it had taken place than anywhere else, and as the boys talked about it at supper the servants heard of it. It was evident that though no accusation might be made, suspicion would be very likely to fall upon them, and as they were anxious to have the matter sifted, the butler was deputed to report the whole affair to the doctor. So when prayers were over Dr Jolliffe told all present to remain where they were, and then calling up Crawley, he asked him whether the account he had heard was correct.

"I did not mean to report it, sir," said Crawley, "but it is true that four pounds in gold and twelve shillings in silver were taken from the tin box belonging to the cricket and football club this afternoon."

"When did you last see this money?"

"At about a quarter to three, sir. As it was a half-holiday I thought I would get all my papers ready against the cricket and football meeting this evening. I set to work at that at a little after two; it did not take me very long, as they were all ready before, and only wanted arranging, and a little memorandum written out of what I wanted to say, for fear I should forget anything. When I had done I counted out the money in hand, and put it in a purse which I have always used for the subscriptions; there was the sum I have mentioned and a five-pound note. I put the purse back in the box, locked it, placed the keys in my coat- pocket, changed my clothes, and went out to play at football. I heard the clock strike three just after I had begun to play."

"And when did you miss the money."

"At the meeting, when I opened the box."

"You had not done so again till then after locking it up, when you went out?"

"No, sir."

"You are sure?"

"Positive, sir."

"And the five-pound note was not taken?"

"No, sir; that was left."

"Was it in the same compartment of the purse as the gold and silver?"

"No, sir; but it could be seen if the purse was opened, and why it was not taken too I cannot imagine."

"That is not so difficult of explanation. But now I must ask you a painful question; but it is your bounden duty to answer it without reserve. Have you any suspicions as to who may have taken it?"

"None whatever, sir. I am almost certain that there was not a boy in the house. I was the last to remain in. Indeed I found all but three in the football field, and I know where they were, for I saw them playing at fives as I passed the court. At least two were playing, and the third, who had hurt his foot, was looking on."

"Do you mean to say, for it is necessary to be accurate, that you recognised every boy in the house except these three in the football field yourself?"

"Not exactly, sir; but we have been talking the matter over, and those whom I did see can answer for all the rest."

"And who were the three boys in the Fives Court?"

"I was the looker-on, sir," said Gould, stepping forward.

"And when did you leave?"

"When the others left off play, sir. We all returned together at tea- time."

"That is right, sir," said Smith and Simmonds. "We were the two playing at fives, and Gould went and returned with us." (Of course it is not meant that they said all this together, in chorus, as people do in a play; but they both stood forward, and Smith was the spokesman.)

"And now, Crawley," resumed the doctor, "are you sure that the money was not taken after your return. You left your room again, perhaps, before the meeting?"

"Yes, I did for a short time, sir; but then I had the keys in my pocket; and the box was fairly unlocked. There are no marks of violence; and it's a Brahma, so, whoever did it, must have had the right key."

"I am very glad that all the boys in my house seem able to prove so clear an alibi," said the doctor. "That will do."

When they had all dispersed Dr Jolliffe made inquiries amongst the servants. The fat cook indignantly demanded that her boxes should be searched; but one coin of the realm is so like another that there did not appear to be much object in that, beyond the pleasure of inspecting a very smart bonnet in reserve for Easter, and other articles of apparel. The maids who waited on the boys were very much cut up about it. They never went near the rooms after they had once cleaned them up in the morning till supper-time, when they turned down the beds (which were set on end, and shut up to look like cupboards during the day), and filled the jugs and cans with fresh water, etcetera. But it was impossible for them to prove their absence during those two hours—from three to five—so clearly as the boys could, though they could testify to one another's not having been away for many minutes at a time. It was extremely unpleasant for them, and for the butler and another man- servant in a less degree also, for, though they had no business to go into the boys' part of the house, it was possible that they might have gone there without having any business.

But there was no reason to conclude that anyone residing in the house at all was the guilty party; any person could walk in from the street at any hour. Itinerants often passed through the place with mice, squirrels, and other things, which they tried to sell to the boys, and one of these might have slipped up-stairs. But, no; a man like that would not have known that there was likely to be money in that particular box; it certainly looked more like the action of someone who had good information.

Such were the speculations and reasonings which were rife in Weston for the next few days; and then the topic began to grow stale, for no one had been seen hanging about the house that afternoon, and there was no satisfactory peg upon which to hang conjecture. One hard fact remained; poor Crawley was answerable for four pounds twelve shillings which had been stolen from him, and this came at a time when he was particularly anxious to spend as little money as possible. He did not make much fuss about it, and only to Buller, his friendship with whom grew stronger the more they knew of one another, did he speak his mind.

"My poor mother!" he said during a Sunday walk the day after the robbery; "I shall have to ask her for the money, and it is precious hard upon her. I have been abominably extravagant, and she is not rich, and there are a lot of us. I owe a good bit to Tiffin, and to my London tailor too, but he will wait any time. Tiffin duns me, hang him! though why he should be devoted to capital punishment for asking for his due I don't know either. I should not have had such a lot of patties, fruit, ices, and stuff. He will have to be paid at latest when I leave; and at that time, if I get into Woolwich, there will be my outfit. And then I must needs buy a gun and a license for just three days' shooting with Gould last Christmas; and tipping the groom and keeper was a heavy item besides. One of my sisters is delicate, and can't walk far; and they could keep a pony-carriage if it wasn't for me. And now, here is another flyer I must rob my mother of, just because I left my keys in my coat when I changed my dress—sheer carelessness!"

"Never mind; you will get into Woolwich next examination, and then you will soon get a commission, and draw pay, and not want so much from your mother."

"Yes, I think of that, and it is some consolation; but still it is in the future, don't you see, and I must ask her for this stolen money at once. By Jove! I wish I had come back unexpectedly for something, and caught the fellow taking it! I wonder who on earth it can be!"

"I have no idea. Not Polly the maid, I'll take my Davey; I have so often left money and things about, and never lost a halfpenny."

That same Sunday Saurin and Edwards were standing with two or three others in the quadrangle, when Gould limped by.

"How is your ankle getting on, Gould?" one of the group called out.

"Better, thanks," he replied, joining them. "I say, if it had kept me in yesterday afternoon Crawley might have thought I took the money! What a joke, eh? Fancy my wanting a paltry four pounds odd."

"You were not in?" cried Edwards; and he could have bitten his tongue out immediately afterwards.

But the surprise was too great for his prudence. He and Saurin had gone to their own tutor's house before repairing to the football field, you may remember, and that route did not pass the Fives Court. So that it was the first intimation Edwards had that Saurin lied when he said he had asked Gould for a loan, and been refused.

"No," said Gould, looking at him in surprise; "what made you think I was?"

"Only your sprain," said Edwards, recovering himself. "Some fellows were saying that if you were in, the thief must have trod very lightly for you not to have heard him, as your room is so near. But as you were out, and all the other fellows too, he had the coast clear, you know."

"What is your idea about the whole thing, Saurin?" asked Gould; "you are a sharp chap."

"Oh, I don't know," said Saurin. "I should not be very much surprised if the money turned up, and there proved to have been no robbery at all."

"What on earth do you mean?"

"The chances are I am wrong, no doubt, but it is possible. Crawley is a very careless fellow, you know, about money matters."

"But how could he have made a mistake, when he counted out the money such a short time before?" asked one of the group. "I was present at the meeting, and you should have seen his surprise when he took up the purse."

"Oh, I dare say it is all as you think," said Saurin. "I only know that if I had charge of money I should always be in a muddle. I never know anything about my own, and it is little enough to calculate; if I had to keep it separate from that of other people I should always be bothered between the two. But no doubt Crawley is better at business than I am."

"I say; he is awfully poor, Crawley is, and tries to make a show as if he were rich," said Gould. "I know he has been dunned by old Tiffin lately, and it is quite possible he may have paid him out of the club money and got confused, eh? Of course, what I say is strictly between ourselves."



CHAPTER SIXTEEN.

AN ACCIDENT.

"It is no business of mine," said Saurin, turning on his heel. "But if any fellow likes to get up a subscription to make good Crawley's loss, real or imaginary, I'll subscribe." And he sauntered off, whistling carelessly.

Edwards had already detached himself from the group, feeling that he must be alone to think upon the tremendous and horrible revelation which had just dawned upon his mind. As Saurin passed him he hissed in his ear the one word "Fool!" And there was such an evil look of mingled rage and fear on his face as the human countenance is seldom deformed by.

But Edwards met it without quailing, and there was nothing but aversion in the glance he gave him back. The scales had fallen from his eyes, and his infatuation was dissipated. Never again was he to listen greedily to Saurin's words, and think them wiser than any others. Never more would he admire and applaud him; build castles in the air, forming wild projects for the future, in his company, or associate willingly with him. They exchanged no other word, and Saurin went his way, strolling in a leisurely manner till he was out of sight; and then quickening his pace he took the direction of Slam's yard. At the rate he was walking he soon got there, and going round to the well-known back-door, he knocked. It was not long before he saw an eye reconnoitring him through a crack.

"Come, do not keep me waiting here all day while you are squinting through that hole!" he cried with a savage oath. "Let me in."

Josiah Slam said apologetically that he wanted to make sure who it was, and admitted him.

"Have you got the money, master?" he asked.

"I have got four pounds, and that is all we can raise. It is as much as we have had in cash, and if you will give up that memorandum for it I will pay it you."

"Nonsense! it's for five pund, I tell yer, and five pund I will have."

"No you won't; I cannot get it. So if you won't take the four, let me out. You may do your worst."

"Come, say four ten."

"You fool, don't you see I am in earnest!" cried Saurin, his suppressed rage bursting out. "Why, I would cut your dirty throat if—" He restrained himself and said, "Fetch the paper if you mean to; I cannot breathe the same air as a man who has threatened me, and I won't stand bargaining here a minute longer."

Josiah Slam knew when he had got his victim in a corner, and desperate to biting pitch; so without another word he fetched the I O U and gave it to Saurin, who simultaneously handed him two sovereigns and four half-sovereigns. The fellow took it with a chuckle, for he had never had the slightest intention of getting himself into trouble, which he assuredly would by attempting to make any use of that bit of paper. Call upon Dr Jolliffe indeed, to get a couple of school-boys, whom he had fleeced, into a shindy! Not worth the trouble for him, indeed. But it occurred to him that the threat might bring cash, and it had.

"Won't yer come in and have something?"

"Let me out!"

"Well, if you must go, here you are. Good-bye, young gent, and better luck next time. And if when yer goes racing, yer wants—" Saurin was out of hearing.

"Bless 'em," continued Mr Slam, junior, "I should like to know a few more like them two young gents a good bit richer. Well, they are about somewhere, if one could but light on 'em."

Saurin did not return to Weston at once, but walked as fast as he could put foot to ground along the lanes and the highroad, trying by physical exertion to numb thought, and he partly succeeded, now and then, for a short time, but black care soon caught him up again, and brooded over his shoulder.

A voice which did not seem to emanate from his own brain kept repeating, "What you have done can never be undone; never, never. Not if you live to be a hundred; not for all eternity." "It can, it shall," he replied. "Only let me escape suspicion, and I will make it up over and over again." "That would not make what has happened, not to have happened." "It is only one act." "Self-deceiver, you have been growing to it for years, your corruption has been gradual, and this is the natural result. You will go on now; each time it will come easier to you, until you grow to think nothing of it. Read your future—outcast, jail-bird." "No, no; I will lead a new life, work hard, avoid bad company." "Avoid bad company! I like that! What company can be worse than your own now?" "I will not sink deeper; no one knows." "You forget; one does know, others may know, will know." "I could not bear that; I would destroy myself and escape the shame." "Destroy yourself indeed! I defy you; you cannot do it. You may kill yourself; it is not at all unlikely; but that is not destruction, but only the commission of another crime."

This inward voice became so real to him that he thought he must be possessed or else going mad. Suppose it were the latter, and he let the truth out in his delirium! He determined to live by rule, to study hard, to be conciliatory, not to draw observation on himself. And to begin with, he must be getting back to Weston; it would never do to be late, and risk questioning.

The first time he had an opportunity of speaking to Edwards alone he said, "I have seen that man as I promised, and there is nothing to fear from him. I have secured his silence."

"At what a price!" sighed Edwards.

"Look here," murmured Saurin, turning on him fiercely; "if it is as you think, you take advantage of it, which is just as bad. We are in the same boat, and must sink or swim together. What is done cannot be undone; don't be a fool. If your weakness excites suspicion it will be ruin to both of us."

"I know, I know," said Edwards, turning away with loathing.

They hated the sight of one another now, these two inseparables. What revolted Edwards most of all was the other's insinuation about Crawley. It was all of a piece with his conduct when Buller was accused of that poaching business, and showed his true character. Days went by and they never spoke to one another of the shameful secret they shared, and indeed rarely on any other subject. They would have avoided all association if it had not been for the fear of exciting suspicion. They were more attentive to their studies, and at the same time took a more prominent part in the school games than either had done for a long time:

Edwards, because it was his natural bent to do so when freed from other influences; and Saurin, partly from prudence, partly because he was making a struggle to escape from the net which he felt that evil habits had thrown around him. He was like one who has been walking in a fog along the brink of a precipice, and discovers his position by setting a foot on the very edge and nearly falling over. He shrank from the abyss which he now saw yawning for him. At the same time he exerted himself to become popular, and since he was no longer anxious to thrust himself perpetually into the foremost place, he was not without success.

"What a much better fellow Saurin is now he has given up going to that Slam's yard!" said one of his intimates, and his hearers acquiesced. He had never repeated that abominable hint about the possibility of Crawley's not having lost the money at all; but Gould had taken up the idea, and the gossip had spread, as such ill-natured talk about any one who is popular or in a higher position than others, is sure to do. Very few, if any, really believed that there was a grain of truth in the notion, but some thought it clever to talk as if they did, just to be different from the majority. Others might jump to a conclusion, swallowing all that the popular idol chose to tell them, but they withheld their judgment. Unluckily these rumours reached Crawley's ears; some friendly ass "thought he ought to know," as is always the case when anything unpleasant is said, and it fretted and annoyed him exceedingly.

It also had the effect of annulling a movement which was being set on foot to make up the missing money by subscription, the notion of which emanated curiously enough from the same source as the scandal. Saurin had thrown out the hint as a sneer, not a suggestion, but it was taken up by some honest lad in the latter sense. It had been submitted to the masters, who not only approved but were anxious to head the subscription, and the whole thing could have been done at once without anyone feeling it. But Crawley called a special meeting, and the pupil- room was crammed to overflowing this time to hear what he had to say, which was this: "I have asked you to come for a personal and not a public reason. I am told that it is proposed to raise a subscription to make up the four pounds twelve the fund has been robbed of. Now, though I was perhaps not careful enough, I could hardly expect my keys to be taken out of a coat and the box opened during a short absence, and so I should have been very glad not to have to bear this loss, for which, of course, I am solely responsible, alone. But some kind friends (Gould, I believe, started the idea) are pleased to say that I have robbed myself; that is, I have spent the money intrusted to me and invented the story of a robbery." ("Oh! oh! shame! shame!") "Well, yes, I think it was rather a shame, and I am glad you are indignant about it. But the accusation having been once made, of course I cannot accept the kind suggestion to make the loss good."

There was a great hubbub and loud protestations, but Crawley was firm. His honour was at stake, he said, and he must repay the money himself; then his traducers at all events could not say that he had profited by holding the office of treasurer. Those who had indulged in idle innuendoes were heartily ashamed and sorry, and Gould for a short time was the most unpopular boy in the school. Crawley cut him dead.

The day following this special meeting was Saturday, exactly one week after the robbery, and the day appointed for the football match between the houses of Head-master and Cookson. I fear that a detailed account of this match would hardly interest you, for this reason. The Head- master, whose scholarship and capacity worked up Weston to that state of prosperity which it has maintained ever since, was an Etonian, and the games instituted under his auspices were played according to Eton rules. Dr Jolliffe had also been educated at the same school, and thought everything connected with it almost sacred. So it happened that the Rugby game of hand-and-football had never supplanted the older English pastime, which it has now become so much the fashion to despise, and which, indeed, if it were not for the Eton clubs at Oxford, Cambridge, and elsewhere, might disappear as the national rats did before the Hanoverian. The Westonians then used round, not oblong footballs; their object was to work the ball between the goal-posts, not over a bar at the top of them; and it was unlawful to touch it with the hands unless caught in the air, and then only for a drop-kick.

I do not advocate one game more than the other; both to my thinking are excellent, and I have no sympathy with those who would suppress every pastime which is fraught with some roughness and danger. The tendency of civilisation is naturally towards softness, effeminacy, and a dread of pain or discomfort; and these evils are far more serious than bruises, sprains, broken collar-bones, or even occasionally a more calamitous accident.

However, the chances are that my reader is all in favour of the Rugby game, and would therefore follow the changes and chances of the present match with but little interest. It was exciting enough, however, to those who were engaged in it, for Cookson's made a better fight of it than their opponents expected. They had been practising with great pains, and their team worked well together and backed each other up excellently. So that, quite early in the match, the ball having been some time at their end, and they acting solely on the defensive, Jolliffe's thought they were going to carry all before them and got a little rash and careless; those who should have kept back to guard their own end pressing too far forwards, when Edwards, who was fleet of foot and really good at seizing chances, got a clear kick at the ball which sent it over the heads of the attackers into the middle of the field, and, getting through to it again, began dribbling it towards the hostile goal with a series of short kicks, having a start of the field, who, seeing their error, were now racing back to their own end. The goal- keeper dashed out and met Edwards in full career, both kicking the ball at the same time; but another on the Cookson side, who had been keeping close in view of such a contingency, got a fair chance at the ball, which slipped sideways from the two, and sent it sheer between the posts, scoring a goal for Cookson's.

The success of such a simple manoeuvre was equivalent to a "fools' mate" at chess, and was a lesson to Jolliffe's never to despise their enemy. They were not to be caught napping again, however, and, by dint of steady, persistent, concentrated play, they too got a goal and equalised matters. Then, after a considerable period, during which the advantages fluctuated, they obtained a rooge. If, in the old game, the ball is kicked behind the goal-posts but not between them, there arises a struggle between the contending sides to touch it with the hand. If one of the defenders, those behind whose goal the ball has passed, does so first, nothing has happened, and the ball is kicked off again for renewal of the game. But should one of the opposite side so touch it, a rooge is gained. The rooge is formed close in front of the defenders' goal, they being clustered in a semicircle with their backs to it, and with a big and heavy member of the team for the central pillar, who plants his heel firmly in the ground, the ball being placed against his foot. The opposite side complete the circle, leaving an opening for one of their number to rush in and get a good kick at the ball—they instantly closing upon him and endeavouring to force the whole surging, struggling mass bodily back between the posts, ball and all; if they cannot make an opening they send the ball through alone—the defenders, of course, endeavouring to force the ball out sideways, and either touch it down behind their goal or get it away from their end altogether. One goal counts more than any number of rooges; but when no goal is made at all, or the number of them on each side is equal, the rooges decide the game.

Ends were changed, and after a good deal of play without result Cookson's also scored a rooge, and matters were equal again; after which the Jolliffe team, which was the strongest physically, kept the ball entirely in the neighbourhood of the Cookson goals. For the latter had made great exertions, and were tiring fast. The time fixed for leaving off play was now approaching; and if they could only keep matters as they were a little longer they would make a drawn match of it, which would be of itself a triumph, considering that their opponents, with the redoubtable Crawley at their head, were reckoned so much the stronger.

"Come, we must get one more rooge," said the Jolliffe captain, "and weak as they are getting we ought to turn it into a goal." And pursuing his determination he dribbled the ball up close to the base line, sent it behind the goal-posts, and rushed forward to touch it down. Edwards ran up to it at the same time to touch it first, and a collision ensued which sent him flying. Near that spot there was a tree with seats round it, and Edwards fell heavily with his side against a corner of this wooden settle. Crawley touched the ball down.

"You have given us all our work to get this!" he called out to the other, laughing; and then seeing that Edwards was lying on the ground, he added, "You are not hurt, old fellow, are you? Only blown?"

But as the other was not in the position in which any one would lie still a moment to get breath, he went up to him and repeated his question.

"I don't know; I—I feel rather queer," was the reply.

Crawley stooped, and put his arms round his body to raise him up, but Edwards shrieked out, "Ah! don't; that hurts!"

The other players now gathered round, and many offered well-meaning but absurd suggestions. One practical youth ran off, however, to Cookson's house to report what had happened, and then returned with a chair. By the time he got back Edwards had managed to rise, and was sitting on the settle, very faint. They managed to transfer him to the chair, and carried him home in it very gently, and by the time he was laid on his bed, which had been got ready, the doctor arrived. A couple of ribs were broken, he said, after an examination which made poor Edwards groan a good deal; but he did not think there was much more the matter, which words were a great comfort to Crawley, who began to fear that he might have been the cause of the boy's death. He was quite sufficiently sorry and vexed as it was, and would have liked to nurse him if he had been allowed.

It was just as well for his reading that they were not in the same house, for he spent all the hours that he was out of school, and not necessarily in his own tutor's, by Edwards' bedside. You cannot fall with your side against a sharp angle heavily enough to break a couple of ribs without feeling it afterwards, I can tell you, so you had better not try, and Edwards suffered a good deal from pain and difficulty of breathing for a few days, and when the inflammation was got down, and he felt more easy, he was kept back by a great depression of spirits.

"One would say that the boy had something on his mind!" said the doctor to Mr Cookson, "but that is impossible. At his age we possess no minds worth speaking about to have anything upon;" and so he lost the scent after hitting it off to go on the trail of a witticism, which after all was not very brilliant.

Edwards was delirious one night, and astonished the housekeeper, a motherly dame who sat up with him, by his talk on the occasion.

"Look here!" he said; and thinking he wanted drink or something she got out of her chair and leaned over him; "let us have five shillings on the black this time; it has gone red four times running, and that can't go on, can it?"

"Certainly not," said Mrs Blobbs, wondering whatever the boy's distracted fancy was running on. "Don't do it! Don't do it!" he then cried. "I'll have nothing to say to it. Let us stand our chance rather. Not that way; not that way; no, no, that's making bad worse. I won't! I won't!"

That was only one night, however, the third after the accident, and he was all right in his head next morning, only so terribly depressed. Saurin never came near him.



CHAPTER SEVENTEEN.

COMPOUNDING A FELONY.

"I know what is the matter with you," said Crawley, replacing the pieces on a backgammon board at the end of the game.

"Do you?" replied Edwards, turning if possible a shade paler, while his heart palpitated under his sore ribs.

"Yes," continued the other; "you are worrying because you cannot get on with your reading, and the prospect of examination is getting uncomfortably distinct. I hear from Mr Cookson that you have been mugging lately, just as I have. Well, you will not lose much time, and you will find yourself all the clearer for lying fallow a little. And look here, I am a little more forward than you, and if you will come and stay with us in the holidays I will read with you; I think I could help you a bit. My mother would be very glad to see you. Or if that can't be, I'll come to you. I am sure we could more than make up for any lost time."

Edwards was able to sit up now, and Crawley read amusing books, and played games with him whenever he could leave school or pupil-room.

"What a kind chap you are!" said Edwards with a broken voice, and with water in his eyes, for he was very weak and nervous; "I—I don't deserve it."

"Not?" exclaimed Crawley. "Why, surely I ought to do what I can, when it is my fault that you got hurt. I am most unlucky this term; I get robbed, and am suspected of inventing the story of it to cover my misappropriation of the money; and then I wind up with breaking a fellow's ribs!"

"No one thinks for a moment that you were not robbed as you say; I am certain of it!" cried Edwards.

"I don't know about that; some of them said they did, and I would give anything to prove that they did me wrong. It will stick in my gizzard a long time, I can tell you."

Edwards buried his face in his hands and fairly sobbed.

"I can bear it no longer," he cried at last. "You so kind to me and all! I know who robbed you."

"You!" exclaimed Crawley, thinking the boy had gone delirious again.

"Yes, I," repeated Edwards. "I did not see it done, and he never told me he had done it, but I know he did, and—and, I profited by the money and never said anything."

"Come, come, Edwards, you are ill and weak, and exciting yourself too much. We will talk about this another time."

"No, no, now; I must speak; it is killing me."

And then he rapidly told the whole story; how Saurin and he had gambled and lost, and the peril they had brought themselves into; and how Saurin had gone that fatal Saturday afternoon to try and borrow money of Gould—all he knew, in short.

"Saurin!" said Crawley, when he had heard all. "I never thought very much of him, but I had no idea he was so bad as that. But don't you fret, Edwards; you were put in a very queer position, and nobody could say what he would do if he suddenly found it his duty to denounce an intimate friend for a crime which was committed to get out of a scrape in which he himself was implicated. It would be an awful hole to be in! How far have you told me all this in confidence?"

"I leave that quite to you. I do not ask to be spared myself, but if you could be cleared and satisfied without Saurin being publicly tried and sent to prison, I should be very grateful."

"All right! I think I can manage that. And now, don't you bother yourself; you shall not get into any row, that I promise."

"Oh, Crawley, what a good fellow you are!" cried Edwards. "I wish I had got killed, instead of only breaking a couple of ribs!"

"And let me in for being tried for manslaughter!" exclaimed Crawley, laughing. "Thank you for nothing, my boy."

Crawley made up his mind that night what he would do. The next morning he asked Robarts, Buller, and Smith, alias "Old Algebra," to come to his room when they came out of school at twelve. Then he made the same request of Gould, who looked surprised and flustered.

"You will condescend to speak to me at last, then?" he said, sulkily.

"I could not suppose that you wished to hold any communication with a defaulter," replied Crawley, "and I am sure I could not trust myself in the company of any fellow who thought me one. I ask you to come to my room now because I have discovered who took the money, and I want to clear myself in your eyes."

"All right! I will come if you wish it."

"Thank you very much."

Having thus arranged for his court of inquiry, the next thing was to secure the attendance of the accused. He found Saurin talking to a knot of boys, and asked if he could speak to him privately for a moment.

"Well, what is up?" Saurin asked. "You look as grave as a mute at a funeral."

"Yes," said Crawley, "what I have to say is rather grave. It is about that four pounds twelve shillings you took out of my box."

"It's a lie!" cried Saurin, turning pale as death.

"And yet the evidence against you is very clear," said Crawley quietly. "Do you know a man named Josiah Slam, a son of the fellow who lives near here? Come, I do not wish to prosecute you, unless you force me; I want to give you a chance. Robarts, Buller, Smith, and Gould are coming to my room at twelve o'clock to-day, and I mean to take their advice as to what should be done if you will come there too, and meet them."

"And if I refuse?" said Saurin.

"In that case I shall go to Dr Jolliffe, and put the matter in his hands," replied Crawley.

"Well, I do not mind coming to hear what cock-and-bull story you have trumped up," muttered Saurin, turning away. He feared lest an unguarded word should betray him.

His anxiety was terrible. What did Crawley know? What was mere conjecture? Of course Edwards had put him on the track; but had he done so distinctly, or had this suspicion been aroused by his wandering talk when delirious? Everything might depend on his exercising calm judgment just now, but his head was in a whirl and he could not collect his wits. Should he make a bolt? Oh, no! that would be confessing himself guilty. Should he defy Crawley? That would bring about a trial, in which he might be found guilty. It seemed safest to go to Crawley's room at twelve and hear what he had to say.

So he went. Robarts and Gould sat on the two chairs with which the room was supplied, Buller perched himself on the table, Smith on a box—all full of curiosity and expectation. Crawley and Saurin remained standing. The door was closed and a mat placed against it, to prevent any sudden entry without warning.

"I am not going to beat about the bush," said Crawley. "I accuse Saurin there of having come to this house, one Saturday when we were all out; of having gone into my room, taken my keys out of the pocket of a coat lying there, opened the cricket and football japanned box, and abstracted four pounds twelve shillings from a purse inside it. Then I assert that he put the keys back in the coat-pocket, having first locked the box and put it back in its place, and ran back to his tutor's house, where he changed and went out to play at football. The motive of this theft was that he had been gambling at Slam's yard, lost all the money he had or could raise; went on playing on credit, lost again, and was threatened with exposure unless he paid up. He had meant to borrow the money he wanted of you, Gould, and came to the house with that intention. But as you were not in, he got it the other way."

"It is all a pack of lies!" cried Saurin. "At least about robbing, I mean; for it is true that I lost money playing roulette, and that I meant to borrow of Gould, only I squared matters with the man without."

"What day did you come to apply to me for that loan?" asked Gould.

"I don't know exactly; it was not on a Saturday I am not sure that I came at all," replied Saurin, who could not for the life of him help stammering. "It's all lies; though appearances might be got up against me."

"They certainly are so already," said Crawley, "or I should not have accused you. Of course, if you can prove your innocence, or even if you are convinced that no one can prove your guilt, you will prefer to stand a trial. Otherwise you might prefer to pay back the money and leave Weston quietly. What do you say?" he added, turning to the others. "Would it not be best for the credit of the school?"

"Yes, yes," said Robarts; "let us wash our dirty linen at home."

"But how am I to leave?" asked Saurin with a groan.

"I don't know; tell your guardian the truth if you like, you must manage that. Only, if you come back next term I shall lay the whole matter before the head-master. And if you leave, and the money does not come, I shall give information to the police."

"That's fair enough," said Buller; "take the chance, Saurin, if you are not a fool." And the others assented.

Not one of them had any doubt as to Saurin's guilt: his confusion and equivocation condemned him.

"What a cool fish you were to suggest that Crawley might have spent the money himself!" said Gould. "You regularly humbugged me."

"You are assuming a good deal, I think," said Saurin bitterly; "making yourselves accusers, juries, judges, executioners, and all. And I am very much in your power, for if this came to a trial, though I should certainly be found innocent of robbery, yet I cannot deny the gambling and having gone to Slam's yard, and I should be expelled for that. So I suppose I had better agree to your terms. I will not come back, and— what sum did you say you demand as the price of your silence? Four pounds ten, or twelve, I think; you shall have it." And turning on his heel with an attempt at swagger which was not very successful, Saurin went out, kicking the mat aside, and banging the door after him.

Of course Edwards had betrayed him, he said to himself; it was not for nothing that Crawley had been constantly with him since his accident. He longed to go to Edwards' room and upbraid him with his treachery, but he durst not trust himself. He was not out of the wood yet; the other three could be trusted, but Gould must tattle, and if the story got abroad and reached one of the master's ears, it would no longer be in Crawley's power to hush it up. And then Edwards almost always had some one with him; but if not, and he saw him alone, could he keep his hands off his throat? From the throbbing of his temples when the idea occurred to him he thought it doubtful. No, he must not see him.

"How on earth did you find it out?" cried the others to Crawley when Saurin's footstep died away on the staircase.

"I have promised not to name my witnesses unless it is necessary to call them forward," replied Crawley. "I am very much obliged to you for coming here, and I feel that it is awfully bad not to take you into full confidence and give up names. But you see I have passed my word and cannot help myself. There's one thing I can tell you, Buller. Saurin was the poacher for whose moonlight excursion you were taken up."

"By Jove!" exclaimed Buller. "Well, I should have imagined that he might have done that, but not such a dirty business as this."

"I suppose he felt himself up a regular tree, poor beggar!" said Robarts.

"Well, Gould," said Crawley, "I hope that your doubts as to my story of having been robbed are set at rest."

"I don't know that I ever had any," replied Gould rather sullenly; "only when a thing like that happens, and nothing can be found out, one puts it in every possible light. Saurin said you were a careless fellow about money matters, and might have mixed up the club money with your own and paid it away without knowing, and then thought you had been robbed. Of course one sees now why he put the idea about; but at the time it looked just possible, and fellows discussed it, I amongst them."

"Well, it was not pleasant for me, as you may easily understand," said Crawley. "However, that is all over, and we will say nothing more about it. And now, of course we will all keep our council about this business for some time. It would be breaking faith with Saurin if we let a word escape before he has left the school; because, if the doctor heard of it, he would insist on expelling him at any rate."

"Yes; and we had better hold our tongues for our own sakes," observed Robarts. "My father's a lawyer, and I have heard him talk about something of the same kind. And I have a strong idea that we have just committed a crime, as that chap in the French play talked prose without knowing it."

"What do you mean?"

"Just this, that to make terms with a thief, by which you agree not to prosecute him, is a legal offence called 'compounding a felony.'"

This notion of Robarts, whether right or wrong, had the useful effect of sealing Gould's lips for some time to come. It only wanted a week to the holidays, so the struggle was not so very prolonged.

Crawley went to see Edwards directly the council-board broke up, and found him nervous and depressed.

"Perhaps I had no right to speak," he said. "It was not for me to tell. I wouldn't; only you thought yourself under suspicion, and you have been so good to me."

Well, Crawley could not but thank him and tell him he was quite right; but he was not able for the life of him to say so in very cordial tones.

"Look here!" persisted Edwards, noticing this, "tell me honestly; if you had been situated like me, would you have told of him?"

"Not to save my life!" blurted out Crawley; "I mean," he added hastily, "I fear that I should not have had the moral courage."

The week passed, and Weston School once more broke up. What story Saurin told to Sir Richard to induce him to take his name off the boards quietly I do not know, but it had the desired effect; and when the boys reassembled for the summer term Saurin's place was known no longer amongst them. The scandal about him soon began to leak out, and the story ran that but for Crawley's extreme generosity towards him he would have now been in penal servitude at Portland.

Stubbs, too, went away that Easter vacation, taking Topper with him, and the pair went out to China together, Stubbs having lucrative employment in that country. Crawley returned, but that was his last term, and soon afterwards he succeeded in getting into Woolwich.



CHAPTER EIGHTEEN.

EPILOGUE.

A young man stood on the platform of the South-Western Railway pointing out his luggage to a porter. There was a good deal of it, and every package had Serapis painted upon it. Serapis, however, was not the name of that young man; that was inscribed on another part of the trunk, and ran, "Vincent Crawley, RA." Serapis indicated the ship into whose hold all these things were to go. They had other marks, for some were to go to the bottom—absit omen!—the bottom of the hold, I mean, not of the sea, and were to remain there till the end of the voyage. But one trunk was to lie atop, for it contained light clothing to be worn on entering the Red Sea. Minute were the printed directions about these matters which had been sent him directly he got his route. It is the fashion to cry out against red tape, but red tape is a first-rate thing if it only ties up the bundles properly. There is nothing like order, method—routine in short. By following it too closely on exceptional occasions absurd blunders may now and then be committed; but think of the utter confusion that would prevail every hour for the want of it.

With a cold March wind blowing how should a young fellow who had never been out of his own country know that in a few days it would be so hot that his present clothes would be unbearable? Or how should he understand the way to meet the difficulty if he did know it? I am all for rules and regulations, and down with the grumblers.

Mrs Crawley and the girls agreed with me, for the official directions saved them a world of trouble. They wanted to go down to Portsmouth in a body and see him off, but he begged them not.

"I had sooner say good-bye here, Mother," he said, "if you don't mind. There's a detachment, and I shall have my men to look after, and if I am with you I shall be bothered. And, well, you know, parting is a melancholy sort of business, and it is better to get it over in private, don't you think?"

Mrs Crawley saw wisdom in her son's words, and yielded with a sigh, for she yearned to see the very last of him. Ah! we do not half value the love of our mothers until we miss it, and the opportunity for making any return is gone for ever. It seems such a matter of course, like the sun shining, which no one troubles to be grateful for. But if the sun went out.

Well, it was a painful business—a good deal worse than a visit to the dentist's—that morning's breakfast, with the table crowded with his favourite dainties, which he could not swallow. And then the final parting, when all the luggage was piled on the cab. It was a relief when it was over, and he found himself alone and trying to whistle. Even now, as he stowed the smaller articles in the carriage, he had a great lump in his throat.

The guard began shutting the doors, so he got in, and as he had fellow- passengers it was necessary to look indifferent, and as if he were accustomed to long journeys. The train moved out of the station and he found several things to distract his thoughts. Presently on the right they passed the Wimbledon Lawn-tennis Grounds, and he thought of a wonderful rally he had seen there between Renshaw and Lawson. Then further on they came to Sandown on the left, where a steeple-chase was in progress. The horses were approaching the water jump, and the travellers put down their newspapers and crowded to the window.

"Something in Tom Cannon's colours leading; he's over. That thing of Lord Marcus is pulling hard. By Jove he is down! No, he has picked him up again. Well ridden, sir!"

"Who is it up?"

"Why, Beresford himself. He will win, too, I think. Oh, hang it, I wish they would stop the train a moment!"

Everybody laughed at this, though it was provoking not to see them over the next fence; but the engine gave a derisive scream, and away they rushed to Farnborough.

"There's Aldershot, and the Long Valley, and that Cocked Hat Wood. British generals would beat creation if they might only let their left rest on Cocked Hat Wood."

They were all army men in the carriage, and the conversation never flagged now it had been started.

"Are you going by the Serapis?" asked a gentleman sitting opposite Crawley, seeing cabin painted on his busby case in the net overhead.

"Yes," replied Crawley. And then learning that he was bound for India the other inquired the presidency and the station, and it so happened that he had left that district only the year before, and was now settled in Hampshire, having been superannuated, at which he grumbled much, and indeed he was a hale young-looking man to be laid on the shelf. And so the time sped rapidly till they reached Portsmouth harbour, where a conspicuous white vessel, which was pointed out to Crawley as the Serapis, lay moored to a quay. Then he superintended the loading of his luggage in a cart, and, taking a cab, accompanied it through the dock-yard gates to a shed, where he saw it deposited as per regulation. Then he went to the "George," where he had secured a bed, and on entering the coffee-room heard his name uttered in a tone of pleased surprise: "Crawley!"

"What, Buller! How are you, old fellow?"

"All right. Are you going out in the Serapis?"

"Yes; and you?"

"Yes."

"That is jolly. What regiment are you in?"

"First Battalion Blankshire. Do you know I got into Sandhurst direct the first time I went up!"

"Of course you did; you would be sure to do anything you really meant; I always said so. I must go and report myself now and see about my detachment, for there are some men going out with me; but we shall meet at dinner."

They dined together at a small table by themselves, and had a long talk afterwards about the old Weston fellows, of whom Buller had recent information through Penryhn, who lived near his people at home.

"I know about Robarts," said Crawley; "he is in the Oxford eleven; but there is your chum Penryhn, what is he doing?"

"Oh, he is in a government office in Somerset House. Not a large income, but safe, and rounded off with a pension. Better than our line, so far as money goes anyhow."

"I suppose so; but I should not like office work. And Smith, Old Algebra, have you heard of him?"

"Yes, he is mathematical master at a big school."

"And Gould?"

"Why, don't you know? It was in all the papers. Gould's father smashed and died suddenly; did not leave his family a penny. Some friends got Lionel Gould a clerkship in some counting-house; his sister Clarissa, your old friend, you know, supports herself and her mother by the stage."

"Dear, dear, I am sorry for them; it must be precious hard when they were used to such luxury. And that chap Edwards, have you ever heard of him?"

"Oh, yes, he is at Cambridge, and intends to take orders when he gets his degree."

"I hope it will keep him out of mischief; I always fancied he might come to grief, he was such a weak beggar."

"Yes, he was, and is still, I hear. But he has had the luck to get into the clutches of a man who keeps him straight; a fellow as good as gold, and earnest enough to make all the Edwardses in the country believe in him."

"Lucky for Edwards; if he marries a stiffish sort of wife with the same opinions he will live and die a saint. Saurin would have made the other thing of him. By the by, have you ever heard anything of that fellow?"

"Not lately. He had a row with his uncle and guardian, and went to Australia, I believe; but I have heard nothing of him for years."

They chatted late into the night, and when Crawley went to bed his heart smote him to remember how little he had thought of his mother.

The Serapis was to sail on the following day at noon, so when Crawley had seen his gunners safely embarked, and the two friends had reported themselves at the little office outside the saloon, had traversed that lofty palatial apartment (how different from the cabins of the old troop-ships!), carefully removing their caps as a placard directed them, had made acquaintance with the little cabin which they were to share together, and had stowed away their minor properties within it, they took a last turn on shore, principally to get one or two little comforts which they had forgotten till then.

As they passed a low public-house on their way back to the ship, a remarkably smart corporal of marines came out of it, and since they were in uniform, saluted. But as he did so, he suddenly turned his head away and quickened his pace.

Crawley and Buller looked at one another.

"Did you recognise him?"

"Yes."

It was Saurin.

THE END.