tedly at crucial passages, and, coming hopelessly to
grief, were denounced as impostors and idlers, till half the class was
dissolved in tears.

A few of the better grounded stood the fire, like a remnant of the Old
Guard. With faces pale from alarm, and trembling voices, but perfect
accuracy, they answered all the Doctor's searching inquiries after the
paradigms of Greek verbs that seemed irregular to the verge of
impropriety.

Paul saw it all with renewed misgiving. "If I were there," he thought,
"I should have been run out and flogged long ago! How angry those stupid
young idiots are making him! How can I go up and speak to him when he's
like that? And yet I must. I'm sitting on dynamite as it is. The very
first time they want me to answer any questions from some of their
books, I shall be ruined! Why wasn't I better educated when I was a
boy, or why didn't I make a better use of my opportunities! It will be a
bitter thing if they thrash me for not knowing as much as Dick.
Grimstone's coming this way now; it's all over with me!"

The Greek class had managed to repel the enemy, with some loss to
themselves, and the Doctor now left his place for a moment, and came
down towards the bench on which Paul sat trembling.

The storm, however, had passed over for the present, and he only said
with restored calmness, "Who were the boys who learnt dancing last
term?"

One or two of them said they had done so, and Dr. Grimstone continued:
"Mr. Burdekin was unable to give you the last lesson of his course last
term, and has arranged to take you to-day, as he will be in the
neighbourhood. So be off at once to Mrs. Grimstone and change your
shoes. Bultitude, you learnt last term, too. Go with the others."

Mr. Bultitude was too overcome by this unexpected attack to contradict
it, though of course he was quite able to do so; but then, if he had, he
must have explained all, and he felt strongly that just then was neither
the time nor the place for particulars.

It would have been wiser perhaps, it would certainly have brought
matters to a crisis, if he could have forced himself to tell
everything--the whole truth in all its outrageous improbability--but he
could not.

Let those who feel inclined to blame him for lack of firmness consider
how difficult and delicate a business it must almost of necessity be for
anyone to declare openly, in the teeth of common sense and plain facts,
that there has been a mistake, and, in point