he overwhelming evidence which was
crowded that morning into the doctor's waiting-room, he hauled down his
colours without even coming to close quarters.

"Yes," said he sullenly, "I did keep back the letter. I considered it
better for Grandcourt and everyone that Mr Railsford should go than
that this old affair should be settled. After all, I was the person
chiefly interested in it, and if I didn't choose to do what would
vindicate myself, I had a right to do so. My opinion is that there will
be no peace at Grandcourt while Mr Railsford is here. If he is now to
remain, I shall consider it my duty to resign."

"I hope not, Mr Bickers," said Railsford. "Now that this unhappy
secret is cleared up, why shouldn't we forget the past, and work
together for the future? I promise for myself and my house to do our
best."

"Thank you," said Mr Bickers dryly. "The offer is a tempting one, but
it is not good enough. Good-morning."

Late that afternoon Mr Bickers drove away in the cab which had come to
take Mr Railsford.

It was an occasion for rejoicing to nobody--for everybody agreed with
Railsford that it would have been possible even yet to make a fresh
start and work together for the good of the school. But, as Mr Bickers
thought otherwise, no one complained of him for leaving.

Another cab came on the following day for Clipstone, whose departure was
witnessed with rather more regret, because he was a good cricketer, and
not quite as bad a fellow as he often tried to make out. His expulsion
was a salutary warning to one or two who had looked up to him as a
model--amongst them to Munger, who, transferred, with a heavy bad mark
against his name, to Mr Roe's house, thought over his former ways, and
tried, as well as a cad of his temper can do, to improve them in the
future.

Jason surely was making his fortune fast. For the very next day yet one
more cab drove into the square, and, after a brief halt, drove away with
Felgate. He left Grandcourt regretted by none, least of all by Arthur
Herapath, who, with a beef-steak on his cheek and linseed poultice over
his temple, whooped defiantly at the retreating cab from his dormitory
window, and began to feel better and better as the rumble of the wheels
gradually receded and finally lost itself in the distance.

CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT.

"DULCE DOMUM."

The great 20th day of July had come round at last, and Arthur Herapath
was in an unwonted flutter of excitemen