hat shall we do? Let us see. There's the Grand Mufti,
and the Elements, and My ship's come loaded with--and--well, what shall
it be?"

"Mr. Gray, it's a good while since we've tried all calling out together.
We haven't done it since Gabriel Bennet came."

"No, we haven't," answered Mr. Gray, as his small eyes twinkled at the
prospect of a little fun; "no, we haven't. Now, boys, of course a good
many of you have played the game before. But you, new boys, attend! the
thing is this. When I say three--_one, two, three_!--every body is to
shout out the name of his sweet-heart. The fun is that nobody hears any
thing, because every body bawls so loud. You see?" asked he, apparently
feeling for his handkerchief. "Gabriel, before we begin, just run into
the study and get my handkerchief."

Gabriel, full of expectation of the fun, ran out of the room. The moment
he closed the door Mr. Gray lifted his finger and said,

"Now, boys! every body remain perfectly quiet when I say three."

It was needless to explain why, for every body saw the intended joke, and
Gabriel returned instantly from the study saying that the handkerchief
was not there.

"No matter," said Mr. Gray. "Are you all ready, boys. Now, then--_one,
two, three_!"

As the word left Mr. Gray's lips, Gabriel, candid, full of spirit, jumped
up from his seat with the energy of his effort, and shouted out at the
top of his voice,

"Hope Wayne!"

--It was cruel. That name alone broke the silence, ringing out in
enthusiastic music.

Gabriel's face instantly changed. Still standing erect and dismayed, he
looked rapidly around the room from boy to boy, and at Mr. Gray. There
was just a moment of utter silence, and then a loud peal of laughter.

Gabriel's color came and went. His heart winced, but not his eye. Young
hearts are tender, and a joke like this cuts deeply. But just as he was
about to yield, and drop the tell-tale tear of a sensitive, mortified boy,
he caught the eye of Abel Newt. It was calmly studying him as a Roman
surgeon may have watched the gladiator in the arena, while his life-blood
ebbed away. Gabriel remembered Abel's words in the play-ground--"There's
more than one kind of fagging."

When the laugh was over, Gabriel's had been loudest of all.

CHAPTER VII.

CASTLE DANGEROUS.

The next day when school was dismissed, Abel asked leave to stroll out
of bounds. He pushed along the road, whistling cheerily, whipping the
road-side grass