heart. These suspicions proved unfounded as
they were ungenerous. The _savant_ was contented with his degree and
college rooms, and showed no hurry for the remainder of the sum to be
paid.

One night, when I was seated in my rooms beside the fire, preparing
lectures on the ichthyosaurus, I was startled by a knock at my door. It
was a hurried, jerky rap. I shouted, 'Come in.' The door burst open,
and on the threshold I saw Monteagle, with a white face, on which the
beads of perspiration glittered. At first I thought it was the rain
which had drenched his cap and gown, but in a moment I saw that the
perspiration was the result of terror or anxiety (cf. my lectures on
Mental Equilibrium). Monteagle and I in our undergraduate days had been
friends; but like many University friendships, ours proved evanescent;
our paths had lain in different directions.

He had chosen archaeology. We failed to convert one another to each
other's views. When he became a member of 'The Disciples,' a mystic
Oxbridge society, the fissure between us widened to a gulf. We nodded
when we met, but that was all. With Girdelstone I was not on speaking
terms. So when I found Monteagle on my threshold I confess I was
startled.

'May I come in?' he asked.

'Certainly, certainly,' I said cordially. 'But what is the matter?'

'Good God! Newall,' he cried, 'that MS. after all is a forgery.'

This expression I thought unbecoming in a 'Disciple,' but I only smiled
and said, 'Really, you think so?' Monteagle then made reference to our
old friendship, our unfortunate dissensions. He asked for my help, and
then really excited my pity. Some member of the High Church party in
Oxbridge had apparently been to Greece to attend a Conference on the
Union of the Greek and Anglican Churches. While there he met Sarpedon,
Patriarch of Hermaphroditopolis, and in course of conversation told him
of the renowned Dr. Groschen. Sarpedon became distant at mention of the
Doctor's name. He denied all knowledge of the famous letter of
introduction, and said the only thing he knew of the Professor was, that
he was usually supposed to have been the thief who had made off with a
large chest of parchments from the monastery of St. Basil.

The Greek Patriarch refused to give any further information. The English
clergyman reported the incident privately to Girdelstone.

Dr. Groschen's other letters were examined, and found to be fabrications.
The Book of Jash