so, much relieved, Oliver went off and reported to the grateful
Stephen the success of his mission, and the two boys went off to the
school chapel together a good deal more happy than they had been the
previous day.

"I say," said Stephen, as they went along, "I suppose you didn't say
anything about Loman, did you?"

"Of course not! he's no concern of mine," said Oliver, rather tartly.
"But look here, young 'un, I'm not going to let you fag any more for
him, or have anything to do with him."

"All right!" said Stephen, who had no desire to continue his
acquaintance with his late "proprietor."

"But the captain will row me, won't he?"

"If he does I'll make that square. You can fag for Wraysford if you
like, though, he wants a fellow."

"Oh, all right!" cried Stephen, delighted, "that'll be jolly! I like
old Wray."

"Very kind of you," said a voice close by.

It was Wraysford himself, who had come in for this very genuine
compliment.

"Hullo! I say, look here, Wraysford," said the beaming Stephen, "I'm
going to cut Loman and fag for you. Isn't it jolly?"

"Depends on whether I have you. I don't want any Guinea-pigs in my
study, mind."

Stephen's face fell. For even such a privilege as fagging for Wraysford
he could not afford to sever the sacred ties which held him to the
fellowship of the Guinea-pigs. "I really wouldn't kick-up shines," said
he, imploringly.

"You'd be a queer Guinea-pig if you didn't!" was the flattering answer.
"And how many times a week would you go on strike, eh?"

"Oh!" said Stephen, "I'll never go on strike again; I don't like it."

The two friends laughed at this ingenuous admission, and then Wraysford
said, "Well, I'll have you; but mind, I'm awfully particular, and knock
my fags about tremendously, don't I, Noll?"

"I don't mind that," said the delighted Stephen. "Besides, you've not
had a fag to knock about!"

At that moment, however, the bell for morning chapel cut short all
further talk for the present. Stephen obeyed its summons for once in a
subdued and thankful frame of mind. Too often had those weekly services
been to him occasions of mere empty form, when with his head full of
school worries or school fun he had scarcely heard, much less heeded,
what was said.

To-day, however, it was different. Stephen was a sobered boy. He had
passed through perils and temptations from which, if he had escaped, it
had been through no merit of his own. Things might h