more, sir," said Glyn quickly. "This hurts me
almost as much as it does you. What I have said was on behalf of Singh,
and I shall certainly not say a word to the Doctor, for I know that now
you will help me in watching over my father's ward."

"Mr Severn," began Morris, "I--I--Oh, I cannot speak. Try and realise
what I feel. But tell me once more, so that I may go away at rest: this
is to be a private matter between us two?"

"Yes, sir, of course," cried Glyn earnestly, and they separated.

"Well, where is it?" said Singh, a few minutes later.

"I couldn't find it," was Glyn's reply. "Here you had better take your
keys."

CHAPTER TWENTY TWO.

THE PROFESSOR'S GRATITUDE.

There was a great talk at the Doctor's establishment about the event of
the season, an event that filled the boys' brains, seniors and juniors,
for weeks before it took place, and brought forth a rebuke from the
Doctor one morning at breakfast, for the masters were reporting that the
papers sent in by the boys were very much wanting in merit. There was a
report, too, going about that Monsieur Brohanne had been seen walking up
and down the class-room tearing his hair--a most serious matter in his
case, for it was exceedingly short.

Matters had come to such a pitch that the Doctor sternly gave quite a
little lecture upon the duty of every pupil to do his very best, whether
at work or play, saying that a boy who could not give his mind to
working could not devote it to playing well. And if in future, he said,
his pupils did not work hard, he should be obliged to make them suffer
the contumely of sending in word that they would not be able to meet
Strongley School in the annual cricket-match.

"I regret it very much, young gentlemen," said the Doctor; "but if you
will disgrace your _alma mater_ by idleness, I have no other
alternative. Duty and pleasure must go hand in hand."

The boys groaned that morning, and broke up into little knots after
breakfast to discuss the matter. Little jealousies were forgotten, and
Slegge declared it was too bad of the Doctor, who seemed to be blaming
them, the seniors, for the failings of those lazy little beggars the
juniors, just when their picked eleven had arrived at such perfection,
through his batting, Glyn's bowling, and the Nigger's wicket-keeping,
that success was certain.

There was gloom in every face save one, and that appertained to Morris,
who watched his opportunity, button-holed Glyn