osed."

Smiling benignantly, the Doctor marched slowly round the end of the
table again, shook hands warmly with both his pupils, and then showed
them to the door.

"Stop! By the way, a little idea has occurred to me. This is a day of
relaxation. Mr Singh--er--it is an understood thing, as you know, that
your title is to be in abeyance while you are my pupil; for, as I
explained to your guardian, Colonel Severn, it would be better that
there should be no invidious distinctions during your scholastic
career--I should be glad if you and your friend the Colonel's son would
dine with me this evening. No dinner-party, but just to meet your three
preceptors and a Mr--dear me, what was his name? Really, gentlemen, I
am so deeply immersed in my studies that names escape me in a most
provoking manner. A gentleman resident in the town here--a Sanskrit
scholar, and friend of Mr Morris. Dear me! What was his name? There
was something familiar about it, and I made a mental note, _memoria
technica_, to be sure, yes--what was it? I remember the word perfectly
now. `Beer.' Dear me, how strange! And it doesn't help me a bit.
Really, gentlemen, I am afraid this _memoria technica_ is a mistake.
How, by any possibility could the name of the ordinary beverage of the
working classes have anything to do with the professor's name?
Professor Beer--Professor Ale--Professor Porter--Stout? Dear me, how
strange! Ah, of course--the great brewers, Barclay--Professor Barclay!
At half-past six."

"Thank you, sir. We will come," said Singh, smiling.

"Precisely," said the Doctor, and he stood smiling in the doorway as the
boys passed out.

They were at the end of the hall passage when the door closed, and
Wrench shot out from somewhere like a Jack from its box.

"Aren't caught it very bad, gentlemen, have you?" he cried eagerly.

"Oh no, Wrench," said Glyn, smiling.

"Thought not, sir, for the Doctor had got a twinkle in his eye when he'd
done with the wild-beast man. It would have been hard if you'd caught
it after what you did. Pst! There's the study-bell." And the man
hurried away, leaving the culprits to stroll out together into the
playground, where they found fully half the boys waiting to hear the
result of their interview with the Doctor, Slegge and his courtiers
hurrying up first.

"Well, beast-tamers," he cried sneeringly, "how many lines of Latin have
you got to do?" And he grinned offensively at them both.