retirement. His is the most
dramatic exit in history. I should like the House to do that. We have
taken on too big a thing. We have got to give in sooner or later."

"Perhaps so," said Morcombe; "and I suppose 'the Bull' thinks you are
thoroughly conceited and proud."

"I believe so," said Gordon. "But let us talk about something else."

* * * * *

As a whole the Easter term began far more satisfactorily than the
Christmas term had ended.

There were no "uppers." House captains ran everything. Morgan had been
promoted into the Lower Sixth, and Gordon found him a most entertaining
person. Naturally clever and naturally indolent, Morgan's work presented
a strange contrast. He and Gordon would settle down to prepare
_OEdipus Tyrannus_ for Finnemore. They would begin lethargically.
After ten lines Morgan would ask whether they had done enough; Gordon
would fling a book at his head; somehow or other they would slop through
thirty lines. Then Morgan would shut his book, and refuse to do any
more.

"Thirty lines is enough for Finnemore, and, besides, I feel rather slack
to-night."

Gordon did not take the trouble to point out that the same feeling of
slackness overcame him every night.

They would both pull up their chairs in front of the fire, and waste the
rest of hall talking. The next morning, however, Gordon would discover
that the lines they had prepared the night before conveyed no meaning to
him at all. He would curse Morgan, and then go up to the library, rout
out Jebbs' translation, and prepare the Greek. Then he would move across
to school with the contented feeling of work well done.

Morgan would be put on to con. Gordon would wait, laughing to himself.
He was sure Morgan would make an awful mess of things. But somehow or
other Morgan always managed to translate it correctly, if not stylishly.

"Morgan, you did that again when I wasn't there," Gordon would say
afterwards.

"Oh no; we prepared it pretty well last night for a change."

After a while Gordon got used to this apparent miracle; but he himself
had invariably to consult the English authority. He did not tell Morgan
that. The climax was reached when Finnemore, who liked Gordon and
thought him rather clever, wrote in Morgan's report: "He relies rather
too much on Caruther's help for his Sophocles translation." It was an
interpretation that had occurred to neither.

CHAPTER IV: THE DAWN OF NOTHING

Slo