ned to be
in the next room, heard him speaking about you. Well, we've boycotted
him. Not a fellow is allowed to speak to him, or notice him, or go near
him. Everybody's been bound over, and unless some one plays traitor,
the place will get too hot for him before the term's up. And serve him
right too. Harrison and I--"

Here the letter broke off.

I felt stunned; and, strange to say, the sudden discovery left me as
miserable as it found me. I suppose I was ill; but for a short time my
passion got the upper hand, and made it worse for me than if I had never
known the truth.

But it didn't last long. There came a knock at the door, and, without
waiting for an invitation, Harrison came into the room, looking so
miserable and scared that I scarcely recognised him for a moment. He
was evidently prepared for any sort of rebuff, and I despised myself far
more than him as I heard the half-frightened voice in which he began.

"Smither, old man--"

He got no farther; or at least I did not hear any more. It seemed like
a dream after that. I was dimly conscious of his hand on my arm and
then round me. The next thing I was aware of was that I was lying in
bed, with him sitting beside me sponging my forehead.

"Has the bed-bell rung?" I asked.

"My dear fellow, you've been in bed a fortnight," said he, bending over
me; "but you mustn't talk now."

After awhile I asked again--

"Why are you here, then?" for the term had had only three days to run
when I had been taken ill.

"We couldn't go, old man. The fellows begged Draven to let them stay
till you were out of danger, and he did. They're all here. This is
Christmas Day, and they will be glad to hear you are better. But really
you mustn't talk, please."

"Tell the fellows to go home, then," I said, "and wish them a Merry
Christmas, and say--"

"Really, old man," pleaded Harrison, looking quite frightened, "don't
talk."

That was the quietest, but not the least hopeful Christmas Day I ever
spent.

And when Draven's met again next term, I fancy most of us had got by
heart the good Christmas motto, "Goodwill to men," and were mutually
agreed that, whatever manly and noble sports we should engage in during
the year, boycotting should not be one of them.

CHAPTER TWO.

A TRUE STORY IN TWO

CHAPTERS.

Sub-Chapter I.

THE STORY.

Ferriby had broken up. The rats and mice were having their innings in
the schoolrooms, and the big bell was gett