start.

"Do you want anything?"

"Oh, I came for--Really, sir, I must beg your pardon, but I have
forgotten what it was."

"To look at an examination-paper," were the words which, in his
embarrassment, sprang to his lips, but he checked them just in time.

"Really, Mr Kennedy, you appear to be strangely absent this morning,"
said Mr Grayson, in a tone the reverse of encouraging.

"Oh, I remember now," he replied, desperately; "it was a library order I
wanted."

Mr Grayson wrote him the order. Kennedy took it, and, without even
shaking the cold hand which the tutor proffered, hurried out of the
room, relieved at least by the conviction that Brogten, if he had seen
him look at the paper, had not, as yet at any rate, revealed it to the
examiner.

"After all," he reflected, "he was hardly likely to do that. But had he
told the men?"

Kennedy did not go to the library; he could not bear to meet anybody,
and hastened to bury himself in his own rooms. His walk, usually so
erect and gay as he went across the court--the tune he used to hum so
merrily in the sunshine--and the bright open glance of recognition with
which he passed his acquaintances and friends, were gone to-day. He
shuffled silently along the cloisters with downcast eyes.

Hall-time would be the time to know whether Brogten had seen him and
betrayed him. And if he had seen him, surely there could be no doubt he
would tell of him. What a sweet revenge it would be for that malicious
heart! How completely it would turn the tables on Kennedy for the day
when he had sarcastically alluded to Brogten's bets! How amply it would
fulfil the promise of which that parting scowl of hatred had been full.

He went to hall rather late on purpose; and instead of sitting in his
usual place near Julian, he chose a vacant place at another table. Half
a minute sufficed to show him that there was no difference in his
reception; the same frequent nods and smiles from all sides still gave
him the frank greeting of which, as a popular man, he was always sure.
He looked round for Brogten, but could make nothing of his face; it
simply wore a somewhat slight smile when their eyes met, and Kennedy's
fell. Kennedy began to convince himself that Brogten could _not_ have
seen what he had done in Mr Grayson's room.

The thought rolled away a great load--a heavy, intolerable load from his
heart. It was not that with him, as with so many thousands, the fear of
discovery co