y rode away. Ivo remembered the
day on which he had walked with them through the village, and regarded
the treatment he now received as a well-deserved punishment for his
then vain-glory. Just as he had then superciliously acknowledged the
salutations of the passing peasants, so the Rellingses now gave him the
go-by to devote themselves to their illustrious acquaintance. Thus Ivo
met with the rare mischance of finding the differences of station to
intrude themselves even into the charmed circle of his university life;
for in general this is the very point where alone these subdivisions
are forgotten, and where young minds mingle untrammelled by any thing
unconnected with their natural gifts and tendencies.

Another old acquaintance who greatly affected Ivo's companionship was
Constantine. He knew every thing but what he ought to have studied: how
to skulk the recitation and gain an hour for the tavern; how to get a
free evening and join a gay carouse: all his efforts were for a time
directed to the noble task of converting the new "freshmen" into
well-seasoned sophomores. With Ivo he succeeded but indifferently; but
Clement was doubly tractable: his adventurous spirit found in such
pranks its most acceptable field of action. To let himself down from a
window by a rope of handkerchiefs tied together, to sing and yowl in
the taverns, then to go roystering through the streets, and finally to
return to the cloister with double risk of detection, was the dearest
joy of his heart. He knew not whether most to enjoy the pleasure of
giving vent to all the wild fancies that were in him, or the
satisfaction of setting the laws at defiance.

Though Ivo frequently admonished Clement to think more of the future,
yet once he was persuaded to join in one of these nightly excursions
himself. They were, as Constantine phrased it, "hard as bricks," wore
many-colored caps, and Ivo was the noisiest of them all. But just this
time they were caught in returning, and Ivo had to expiate his sins for
several days in the "carcer."

Constantine was delighted to find that his friend had so thoroughly
"seen the ropes." He often said, "You'll never see me a parson: the
shears are not sharpened that will shave my head; only I must wait for
something first." At another time he cried, "If you were the right sort
of fellows we'd all make an agreement to leave the cloister, every one
of us, and let the Lord see how to get through with his vineyard by
h