" answered Wyndham, using Paul's
words. "When I saw you standing before me at the sand-pit--saw who your
fellows had selected as their champion--I was staggered. You were the
last in the world I dreamt of seeing. I could see that you were
bewildered, but not more than I was. I knew not how to act. Fight you?
Impossible! Go away--turn on my heel? That seemed impossible, too. I
should be stamped as a coward. I could not explain, because that would
have meant giving away your secret. Then, as the thoughts flashed
through my mind, you solved the riddle. You had the courage to do what I
couldn't--you walked away."

Paul regarded Wyndham in wonder. The thoughts which had passed through
Wyndham's mind were almost the same thoughts that had passed through
his. The same struggle had gone on in both. For the moment the hard,
bitter feeling that had stirred within him softened, and he was on the
point of holding out his hand, when he remembered that it meant clasping
the one that had so severely punished Stanley.

"I walked away," he echoed; "and then?"

"Why, then," smiled Wyndham, "things couldn't have happened better. Some
bounder amongst your mob was anxious to bound into your shoes. He jumped
up in an awfully excited way, muttering something about 'the honour of
the Form.' He insisted on fighting me, and I didn't mind in the least.
You know how it ended."

"Too well--too well," repeated Paul sadly. "Better far had I stayed.
That was my friend you punished so."

"Your friend!"

"The best friend I had at Garside. We are friends no longer. Instead of
that, he looks upon me now as his worst enemy, while all the school look
upon me as a cur. But it isn't that I mind so much, it's losing the
friendship of Stanley Moncrief."

"I'm sorry. I did not dream things were as bad as that. Who is this
Stanley Moncrief?"

"He is the son of that gentleman for whom I took the letter to Redmead
on the night you met me, and did me so great a service."

"If it was a service, I've undone it now," answered Wyndham sorrowfully.
"I could not have done a worse one than I did you at the sand-pit. Why
couldn't you explain to your friend?"

"I've tried to, but he won't listen. He is smarting under his defeat,
and I don't wonder at it."

There was silence between them for a minute or two, then Wyndham
exclaimed:

"Are you going back to Garside?"

"Yes. Why?"

"Because I am going with you. Moncrief won't listen to you. He will
listen to