again." But his authority was
established like a rock from that night forward. No one ever ventured
to dispute it again, or forgot that evening. Mr Rose's noble moral
influence gained tenfold strength from the respect and wholesome fear
that he then inspired.

But, as he said, Brigson's reign was over. Looks of the most
unmitigated disgust and contempt were darted at him, as he sat alone and
shunned at the end of the table; and the boys seemed now to loathe and
nauseate the golden calf they had been worshipping. He had not done
blubbering even yet, when the prayer-bell rang. No sooner had Mr Rose
left the room than Wildney, his dark eyes sparkling with rage, leaped on
the table, and shouted--

"Three groans, hoots, and hisses for a liar and a coward," a sign of
execration which he was the first to lead off; and which the boys echoed
like a storm.

Astonished at the tumult, Mr Rose reappeared at the door.

"Oh, we're not hissing you, sir," said Wildney excitedly; "we're all
hissing at lying and cowardice."

Mr Rose thought the revulsion of feeling might do good, and he was
striding out again without a word when--

"Three times three for Mr Rose," sang out Wildney.

Never did a more hearty or spontaneous cheer burst from the lips and
lungs of fifty boys than that. The news had spread like wildfire to the
studies, and the other boys came flocking in during the uproar, to join
in it heartily. Cheer after cheer rang out like a sound of silver
clarions from the clear boy-voices; and in the midst of the excited
throng stood Eric and Montagu, side by side, hurrahing more lustily than
all the rest.

But Mr Rose, in the library, was on his knees, with moving lips and
lifted hands. He coveted the popular applause as little as he had
dreaded the popular opposition; and the evening's painful experiences
had taught him anew the bitter lesson to expect no gratitude, and hope
for no reward, but simply, and contentedly, and unmurmuringly, to work
on in God's vineyard so long as life and health should last.

Brigson's brazen forehead bore him through the disgrace which would have
crushed another. But still he felt that his position at Roslyn could
never be what it had been before, and he therefore determined to leave
at once. By grossly calumniating the school, he got his father to
remove him, and announced, to every one's great delight, that he was
going in a fortnight. On his last day, by way of bravado, he smash