tack; and he had washed his face and hands in the horse-trough at
the foot of Sudbury Hill. And the certainty that Desmond was safe, that
in the end he, John, had triumphed over Scaife, filled his soul with
joy. Warde, on the other hand, looked wretched; he had passed a
sleepless night; he was pale, haggard, gaunt.

"What have you to say, Verney?"

"Nothing, sir."

"Nothing." Warde clenched his hands, and burst into speech, letting all
that he had suffered and suppressed escape in tumultuous words and
gestures. "Nothing. You dare to stand there and say--nothing. That you
should have done this thing! Why, it's incredible! And I who trusted
you. And you listened to me with a face like brass, laughing in your
sleeve, no doubt, at the fool who betrayed himself. And you came here,
so my wife tells me, to see if I was out of the way, if the coast was
clear. And you were cool as a cucumber. Oh, you hypocrite, you damnable
hypocrite! I have to see you now, but never again will I look willingly
upon your face, never! Well, this wretched business must be ended. You
got out of my house last night. You heard I was dining with the Head
Master. I returned early, and I saw you jump from the passage window.
You don't deny that you went up to London, I suppose?"

"No, sir; I don't deny it."

At the moment John, quite unconsciously, looked as if he were glorying
in what he had done. Warde could have struck his clean, clear face,
unblushingly meeting his furious glance. In disgust, he turned his back
and walked to the window. John felt rather than saw that his tutor was
profoundly moved. When he turned, two tears were trickling down his
cheeks. The sight of them nearly undid John. When Warde spoke again, his
voice was choked by his emotion.

"Verney," he said, "I spoke just now in an unrestrained manner, because
you--you"--his voice trembled--"have shaken my faith in all I hold most
dear. I say to you--I say to you that I believed in you as I believe in
my wife. Even now I feel that somehow there is a mistake--that you are
not what you confess yourself to be--a brazen-faced humbug. You have
worked as I have worked for this House, and in one moment you undo that
work. Have you paused to think, what effect this will have upon the
others?"

"Not yet, sir."

John looked respectfully sympathetic. Poor Warde! This was rough indeed
upon him.

Suddenly the door was flung open, and Desmond burst into the room, with
a complete disregard