id Heathcote, convinced now that the junior had been right,
"but I didn't know--that is--"

"Shut up and don't tell lies," said the Fifth-form boy, severely. "Go
to bed instantly, and write me out 200 lines of Virgil before breakfast
to-morrow. I've a good mind to send your name up to Westover."

"I'm awfully sorry," began Heathcote; "no one told me--"

"I've told you; and if you don't go at once Westover shall hear of it."

The dormitory, when he reached it, was deserted. Not even Aspinall was
there; and for a moment Heathcote began again vaguely to suspect a plot.
From this delusion, he was, however, speedily relieved by the
appearance of a boy, who followed him into the room, and demanded.

"Look here; what are you up to here?"

"I was--that is, I was told to go to bed," said Heathcote.

"Well, and if you were, what business have you got here? Go to your own
den."

"This is where I slept last night," said Heathcote, pointing to the
identical bed he had occupied.

"You did! Like your howling cheek."

"Where is my bed room then?" asked Heathcote.

"Why didn't you ask the matron? I'm not going to fag for you. There,
in that second door; and take my advice, slip into bed as quick as you
can, unless you want one of the Fifth to catch you, and give you a
hundred lines."

Heathcote whipped up his night-gown and made precipitately for the door,
finally convinced that he was in a fair way of getting into a row very
early in his Templeton career.

The door opened into a little room about the size of a small ship's
cabin, and here he undressed as quickly as he could, in the fading
daylight, and slipped into bed, inwardly congratulating himself that no
one had detected him in the act, and that he had a good prospect,
contrary to his expectations, of getting to sleep comfortably. The
thought of the 200 lines, certainly, was unpleasant. But "sufficient
unto the day," thought the philosophic Heathcote. He was far more
concerned at the fate of the unsuspecting Dick. What would become of
him, poor fellow?

Amid these reflections he fell peacefully asleep. The next thing he was
conscious of, in what seemed to him the middle of the night, was the
sudden removal of the clothes from the bed, and a figure holding a
light, catching him by the arm, and demanding fiercely--

"What do you mean by it?"

His first impulse was to smile at the thought that it was only a dream,
but he quickly changed his mind, and s