saminations."

With which parting sally our heroes found themselves alone, with their
faces towards Templeton.

To any wayfarers less overwhelmed with care, that mile walk from
Markridge to Templeton over the breezy downs, with the fresh sea air
meeting you, with the musical hum of the waves on the beach below, and
the glimmer of the spring sun on the ocean far ahead, would have been
bracing and inspiriting. As it was, it was not without its attractions
even for the three boys; for did they not stand on the precincts of that
enchanted ground occupied and glorified by the heroes of Templeton? Was
not this very road along which they walked a highway along which
Templeton walked, or peradventure raced, or it may be bicycled? Were
not these downs the hunting-ground over which the Templeton Harriers
coursed in chase of the Templeton hares? Was not that square tower
ahead the very citadel of their fortress? and that distant bell that
tolled, was it not a voice which spoke to Templeton in tones of familiar
fellowship every hour?

They trembled as they heard that bell and came nearer and nearer to the
grand square tower. They eyed furtively everyone who passed them on the
road, and imagined every man a master and every boy a Templetonian.

A shop with "mortar-boards" displayed in its window seemed like a temple
crowded with shrines; and a confectioner's shop, in which two young
gentlemen in gowns sat and refreshed themselves, was like a distant
glimpse of Olympus where the gods banqueted.

A boy with a towel over his shoulder lounged past them, and surveyed
them listlessly as he went by.

How they cowered and trembled beneath that scrutiny! How they dreaded
lest their jackets might be too long, or that the studs in their shirts
might not be visible! How they hated themselves for blushing, and
wished to goodness they knew what to do with their hands!

How their legs shook beneath them as they came under the shadow of the
great tower and looked nervously for the porter's lodge! They would
have liked to look as if they knew the place; it seemed so foolish to
have to ask any one where the porter lived.

"Just go and see if it's up that passage," said Richardson to Coote,
pointing out a narrow opening on one side of the tower.

Coote looked at the place doubtfully.

"Hadn't we better all try?" said he.

"What's the good? Beckon if it's right, and we'll come."

The unfortunate Coote departed on his quest much a