and Singh, and led them
off into the solitude of the lecture-hall.

"Good news!" he said. "Splendid news! Gentlemen, this is entirely a
private matter between us three, and I know you will be ready to
rejoice."

"What, have you got some fine appointment, Mr Morris?" cried Glyn, who
had grown to be on quite friendly terms with the master in a very short
time of late, Morris making a point of treating him always with genuine
respect, and aiding him in every way possible--coaching him, in fact,
with his mathematics, in which, truth to tell, Glyn did not shine.

"No," cried Morris, in answer to the lad's question; "it is better than
that. Somebody else has."

"You mean Professor Barclay?" said Singh.

"Yes, sir; I mean Professor Barclay. I have had a letter from him this
morning telling me of his success, and that he leaves for India
directly, to take up some post in connection with the Sanskrit college."

"I am very glad," said Singh, "for he must have been dreadfully poor."

"Sadly so," said Morris.

"I am glad too," said Glyn; "very."

"You don't know what a relief it is to me," continued Morris
confidentially.

"Is he coming down to see you before he goes?" said Glyn.

"Oh no. He writes word that he is staying at apartments in London in
the neighbourhood of the East India Docks until the great Indiaman
sails, and desires his most respectful compliments to you both, and
above all he begs me to tell you, Mr Singh, that the feelings of
gratitude within his breast will never expire. While, as now he is
entering upon a career of prosperity, many weeks will not elapse before
he sends something, upon receipt of which he hopes you will return to
him certain little memoranda that you hold, signed by his name."

"Ha, ha!" laughed Singh, "he'll wait a long time. Why, I burned them
all directly after he gave them to me. Are you going to write to him,
Mr Morris?"

"Yes; I must reply to his letter."

"Then, please tell him from me that I wish him all success in my
beautiful country, and that he is never to trouble himself any more
about the memoranda."

"For you have burned them?" said Morris.

"Yes, of course."

CHAPTER TWENTY THREE.

SOMEBODY IS UNTRUSTWORTHY.

The boys did their best to worthily earn their cricket-match, and it
came off some weeks after in due time.

The morning broke gloriously; four wagonettes came round to the door
after a very early breakfast, and the masters followed in