ask you about Lee. I was sorry to
hear that there was a rumour that something was amiss with him."

His features were grave, but there was the gleam of a hidden laugh in
his eyes as he spoke. Smith saw it, and he could have knocked him down
for it.

"You'll be sorrier still to hear that Monkhouse Lee is doing very well,
and is out of all danger," he answered. "Your hellish tricks have not
come off this time. Oh, you needn't try to brazen it out. I know all
about it."

Bellingham took a step back from the angry student, and half-closed the
door as if to protect himself.

"You are mad," he said. "What do you mean? Do you assert that I had
anything to do with Lee's accident?"

"Yes," thundered Smith. "You and that bag of bones behind you; you
worked it between you. I tell you what it is, Master B., they have given
up burning folk like you, but we still keep a hangman, and, by George!
if any man in this college meets his death while you are here, I'll have
you up, and if you don't swing for it, it won't be my fault. You'll
find that your filthy Egyptian tricks won't answer in England."

"You're a raving lunatic," said Bellingham.

"All right. You just remember what I say, for you'll find that I'll be
better than my word."

The door slammed, and Smith went fuming up to his chamber, where he
locked the door upon the inside, and spent half the night in smoking his
old briar and brooding over the strange events of the evening.

Next morning Abercrombie Smith heard nothing of his neighbour, but
Harrington called upon him in the afternoon to say that Lee was almost
himself again. All day Smith stuck fast to his work, but in the evening
he determined to pay the visit to his friend Doctor Peterson upon which
he had started the night before. A good walk and a friendly chat would
be welcome to his jangled nerves.

Bellingham's door was shut as he passed, but glancing back when he was
some distance from the turret, he saw his neighbour's head at the window
outlined against the lamp-light, his face pressed apparently against the
glass as he gazed out into the darkness. It was a blessing to be away
from all contact with him, if but for a few hours, and Smith stepped out
briskly, and breathed the soft spring air into his lungs. The half-moon
lay in the west between two Gothic pinnacles, and threw upon the
silvered street a dark tracery from the stone-work above. There was a
brisk breeze, and light, fleecy clouds drifted swift