eclaimed against
classical study, was perfectly right; the world had learned all it
could from those hoary teachers, and must now turn to Nature. On every
hand, the future was with students of the laws of matter. Often, it was
true, he had been tempted by the thought of a literary career; he had
written in verse and prose, but with small success. An attempt to
compose the Prize Poem was soon abandoned in discouragement; the essay
he sent in had not been mentioned. These honours had fallen to
Earwaker, with whom it was not easy to compete on such ground. No, he
was not born a man of letters. But in science, granted fair
opportunity, he might make a name. He might, and he would!

On the morrow, splendour of sunshine drew him forth to some distance
from the town. He went along the lanes singing; now it was holiday with
him, and for the first time he could enjoy the broad golden daylight,
the genial warmth. In a hollow of grassy fields, where he least
expected to encounter an acquaintance, it was his chance to come upon
Christian Moxey, stretched at full length in the company of nibbling
sheep. Since the dinner at Mr. Moxey's, he had neither seen nor heard
of Christian, who, it seemed probable, was back at his work in
Rotherhithe. As their looks met, both laughed.

'I won't get up,' said Christian; 'the effort would be too great. Sit
down and let us have a talk.'

'I disturb your thoughts,' answered Godwin.

'A most welcome disturbance; they weren't very pleasant just then. In
fact, I have come as far as this in the hope of escaping them. I'm not
much of a walker, are you?'

'Well, yes, I enjoy a good walk.'

'You are of an energetic type,' said Christian, musingly. 'You will do
something in life. When do you go up for Honours?'

'I have decided not to go in at all.'

'Indeed; I'm sorry to hear that.'

'I have half made up my mind not to return to Whitelaw.'

Observing his hearer's look of surprise, Godwin asked himself whether
it signified a knowledge of his footing at Whitelaw. The possibility of
this galled him; but it was such a great step to have declared, as it
were in public, an intention of freeing himself, that he was able to
talk on with something of aggressive confidence.

'I think I shall go in for some practical work of a scientific kind. It
was a mistake for me to pursue the Arts course.'

Christian looked at him earnestly.

'Are you sure of that?'

'Yes, I feel sure of it.'

There was sile