t night were
weighed. Every one joining in praising the stroke, but there were
great doubts whether the crew could live up to it. Tom carried
himself on to the top of the barge to get out of hearing, for
listening made his heart beat and his throat drier than ever. He
stood on the top and looked right away down to the Gut, the
strong wind blowing his gown about. Not even a pair oar was to be
seen; the great event of the evening made the river a solitude at
this time of day. Only one or two skiffs were coming home,
impelled by reading men, who took their constitutionals on the
water, and were coming in to be in time for afternoon chapel. The
fastest and best of these soon came near enough for Tom to
recognize Hardy's stroke; so he left the barge and went down to
meet the servitor at his landing, and accompanied him to the St.
Ambrose dressing-room.

"Well, how do you feel for the race to-night?" said Hardy, as he
dried his neck and face, which he had been sluicing with cold
water, looking as hardy and bright as a racer on Derby day.

"Oh, wretched! I'm afraid I shall break down" said Tom, and
pouring out some of his doubts and miseries. Hardy soon comforted
him greatly; and by the time they were half across Christchurch
meadow, he was quite in heart again. For he knew how well Hardy
understood rowing, and what a sound judge he was; and it was
therefore cheering to hear that he thought they were certainly
the second best, if not the best boat on the river; and that they
would be sure to make some bumps unless they had accidents.

"But that's just what I fear so," said Tom. "I'm afraid I shall
make some awful blunder."

"Not you!" said Hardy; "only remember. Don't you fancy you can
pull the boat by yourself, and go to trying to do it. There's
where young oars fail. If you keep thorough good time you'll be
pretty sure to be doing your share of work. Time is everything,
almost."

"I'll be sure to think of that," said Tom; and they entered St.
Ambrose just as the chapel bell was going down; and he went to
chapel and then to hall, sitting by and talking for companionship
while the rest dined.

And so at last the time slipped away, and the Captain and Miller
mustered them at the gates and walked off to the boats. A dozen
other crews were making their way in the same direction, and half
the undergraduates of Oxford streamed along with them. The banks
of the river were crowded; and the punts plied rapidly backwards
and