hin a week of his last
escapade Phil was despatched to a certain school, situated in the
outskirts of London, where only backward and incorrigible lads were
received.

"I am thoroughly displeased and disappointed with you," said the vicar
severely, as he lectured Phil just before his departure. "I lifted you
from poverty, provided you with a home, and for years have devoted all
my spare hours to you. You know what my wishes and hopes were. They
are still the same. Disappoint me again, get into further disgrace, and
I will disown you."

"I'll do my best to keep out of trouble," Phil answered, with a catch in
his voice, for the lad was at heart fond of his home and of his
guardians. "I will not promise to follow your wishes though. I don't
know why it is, but I loathe the thought of being a clergyman. I love a
free and open life; and besides, a clever man is required for the
Church, and I am scarcely that. Still, father, I will try my best, and
should I do anything wrong, it shall not be such as to cause you to feel
any shame."

"Then we shall see, Philip. But remember my warning," answered the
vicar.

That evening a cab stopped outside a big stone building in Highgate and
deposited Phil and his baggage on the pavement.

For a moment he looked round in bewilderment, for this was the first
time he had been in the neighbourhood of, or in fact, anywhere near, the
great city; but a gruff "Five bob fare, please", and "that there's
Ebden's School", recalled his wandering wits.

Phil paid the money, and then, remembering that he would require someone
to help him with his baggage, asked the surly driver to get off his
seat.

"Not if I knows it, young un," was the answer. "I've got me fare, and
you've got to yer journey's end. So good-day to yer! Hope yer won't
find it too precious warm in there. I passes by most every day and
hears horrid yells a-coming from the 'ouse. Get up, won't yer!" and
with a tug and a spiteful lash at his horse, this cheerful Jehu drove
off with such a jerk that the dilapidated top hat he wore started
backward, and, bounding from the box, was crushed beneath the wheels.

Phil, who had for the moment been somewhat taken aback by the man's
ominous words, roared at the cabman's discomfiture and at the rage into
which he promptly worked himself. Then, taking no notice of his
growling, and seeing no one at hand to help him, he shouldered his box,
pushed open the iron gate which formed