et came from a cut near the right eye. He seemed to
stagger along the road rather than walk, and, what was most strange,
Newall had one arm through his, as though to support him.

Paul's heart fell. It was true enough what Hibbert had said. A fight had
taken place, and, judging by appearances, Stanley had had the worst of
it. For the moment Paul could not move; then, rousing himself, with an
effort he ran towards Stanley.

Instantly he was greeted with a storm of hisses. Stanley turned from him
with a look on his bruised and swollen face Paul had never seen there
before. It was a look of repugnance, as though the affection between
them had suddenly turned to loathing. Then the crowd of boys parted, and
drawing away from Paul, left him standing there alone--he might have
been a leper.

He began to feel indignant against Stanley. He at least ought to have
known why he had refused to fight Wyndham; and then, as he recalled
Stanley's bruised face, his indignation vanished. The old tenderness and
affection for his friend came back in a wave.

"Why did I leave you, Stan--why did I leave you?"

He reproached himself, and still more bitterly Wyndham. It was Wyndham
who had done this--who had bruised and battered Stanley, and raised this
barrier between them.

"You'll have to reckon with me some day, Master Wyndham," he said to
himself.

He looked in the direction of Garside. The boys had disappeared from
sight. How could he get an explanation of what had happened? He would go
and demand one; but somehow as he turned to the school his feet seemed
as heavy as lead. For the first time he felt as though he had no right
there. What was the use of going back when no one wanted him? He had
made a horrible mess of everything.

Paul felt utterly miserable, as though he would like to flee from
everything and every one. Then the pale face of little Hibbert rose
before him, and he heard him speaking again as he had spoken to him in
the class-room:

"Coward! I know you couldn't be. Any one can see that by looking in your
face."

There was one at the school, at any rate, who had not lost faith in him.
And Paul was strengthened by the memory.

Thus thinking, he turned away from the school again, scarcely heeding
the direction in which he went. Happening to look up, he saw Waterman
coming along the road towards him. He was strolling along with both
hands thrust in his pockets in his usual leisurely manner. He was one of
that cla