ot at once order him to quit Saint Dominic's.

"Or you would have seen that this paper was a practical joke." Then it
burst all of a sudden on Stephen. And all this about "Mr Finis", "Oh,
ah," and the rest of it had been a cruel hoax, and no more!

"Come, now, let us waste no more time. I'm not surprised," said the
Doctor, suppressing a smile by a very hard twitch; "I'm not surprised
you found these questions hard. How far have you got in arithmetic?"

And then the Doctor launched Stephen into a _viva voce_ examination, in
which that young prodigy of learning acquitted himself far more
favourably than could have been imagined, and at the end of which he
heard that he would be placed in the fourth junior class, where it would
be his duty to strain every nerve to advance, and make the best use of
his time at Saint Dominic's. Then the Doctor rang his bell.

"Tell Mr Rastle kindly to step here," said he to the porter.

Mr Rastle appeared, and to his charge, after solemnly shaking hands and
promising to be a paragon of industry and good conduct, Stephen was
consigned by the head master.

"By the way," said the Doctor, as Stephen was leaving, "will you tell
the boy who gave you this paper I wish to see him?"

Stephen, who had been too much elated by the result of the real
examination to recollect for the moment the trickery of the sham one,
now blushed very red as he remembered what a goose he had been, and
undertook to obey the Doctor's order. And this it was very easy to do.
For as he opened the study-door he saw Pembury just outside, leaning
against the wall with his eyes on the clock as it struck ten.

As he caught sight of Stephen emerging from the head master's study, his
countenance fell, and he said eagerly and half-anxiously, "Didn't I tell
you ten o'clock, Greenfield?"

"Yes, but the Doctor said half-past nine. And you are a cad to make a
fool of me," added Stephen, rising with indignation, "and--and--and--"
and here he choked.

"Calm yourself, my young friend," said Pembury. "It's such a hard thing
to make a fool of you that, you know, and--and--and--!"

"I shall not speak to you," stammered Stephen.

"Oh, don't apologise," laughed Pembury. "Perhaps it would comfort you
to kick me. Please choose my right leg, as the other is off the ground,
eh?"

"The Doctor wants to speak to you, he says," said Stephen.

Pembury's face fell again. "Do you mean to say he saw the paper, and
you told him?"