electioneering
agents.

A week before the beginning of term he received two letters. The first
was from Lovelace, who had got a nomination to Sandhurst, and would not
return to school next term. The other was from Hunter, saying that he
had won a commission in the Dorsets.

"_Well, Caruthers, old fellow_," he added, "_this means that you will be
captain of the House. I had greatly looked forward to being captain
myself, and had thought out a good many new ideas. But of course all
that has got to go now, and I don't intend to try and pass off my
theories on you; you'll probably have many more than I had, and a good
deal better ones. All I can say is that I wish the very best of luck to
you and to the House. I have no doubt you'll do jolly well. Good luck._"

Gordon sat silent for a long while. Sorrow at losing Lovelace strove
with the joy of reaching his heart's desire so soon. Finally all other
emotions were lost in the overflowing sense of relief that his days of
waiting for achievement were over.

In a mood of supreme self-confidence he returned to Fernhurst.

At Waterloo everyone was talking at the top of his voice.

"Is it true Akerman has left?"

"Yes; got a commission in the Middlesex."

"Good Lord! that'll mean Gregory captain."

"Hunter has left, too, I hear."

"Has he?"

"Caruthers will be captain of the House, then."

Broken sentences were wafted like strange music to Gordon's ears. He
felt that the eyes of those who once had been his equals looked at him
with a sort of Oriental admiration, in which there lurked traces of
fear.

He found himself addressed with more respect. One or two people came up
to congratulate him. The green flag waved. The train moved majestically
westward, and his reign had begun. He did not feel the slightest tremor
of nervousness. He remembered Hunter saying at the end of last term that
it was ticklish work being captain of the House. Was it? To Gordon it
seemed no more than the inevitable entrance into a kingdom which was
his by right of conquest.

The Eversham road swept in its broad curve up to the Abbey, black with
moving figures. Gordon slowly walked up to the House. It was the
privilege of School House prefects to enter by a small gate near the
masters' common room. Haughtily he rang the bell. A wizened old lady
opened the door, bowing with a "Hope you 'ad a good 'oliday, sir." It
was the first sensation of power.

A crowd had collected round the notice-boar