ver-pleased with himself."

As he spoke, Paul and Stanley passed them. Baldry was not far wrong.
Paul was far from pleased with himself. He was going to fight in cold
blood a boy with whom he personally had no quarrel, and he had not the
slightest notion who his opponent was. He might be a noble-hearted
fellow, as much averse to quarrelling and fighting as he was, but
compelled to fight--as he had been--for "the honour of the Form."
He--Paul--had faced danger, and had not shrunk from it; but somehow, he
shrunk from the encounter before him.

"Look! There's quite a crowd at the sand-pit already," exclaimed
Stanley, who was a great deal more excited at the coming encounter than
Paul was.

By this time they had come within sight of the sand-pit. Paul, looking
up, saw that on one side had gathered most of the boys of the Fifth,
while on the other side were the boys from St. Bede's.

CHAPTER XV

WHAT HAPPENED AT THE SAND-PIT

Though the boys of St. Bede's and those of Garside regarded themselves
as adversaries, to their credit be it said no outbreak of temper had
resulted from their meeting at the sand-pit. There had been some amount
of good-humoured chaff bandied to and fro across the pit, but nothing
more. All were eager for the coming struggle.

A cheer went up from the Garsides directly they caught sight of Paul.
The Bedes eyed him critically.

"Looks grim enough--as though he meant business," said one, as Paul
advanced to the pit.

The cheer of his comrades put fresh life into Paul. His blood, which had
seemed stagnant, began to race through his veins.

"For the honour of the Form," he said to himself, between his clenched
teeth, "I must--I will win!"

As though his comrades wished to give him all the encouragement in their
power, another cheer went up as he entered the pit, and took up his
position on the floor of hard-pressed sand below.

"Where's the other fellow?" he asked.

"Doesn't seem to have turned up yet," said Arbery; "but I don't think
it's quite time. How goes it, Levy?"

Leveson had a stop-watch and was very proud of it. He usually acted as
timekeeper at the school sports, when the stop-watch was very much to
the fore. He prided himself on one thing--always knowing the right time.
His was the only watch that kept the right time at Garside--so, at
least, Leveson said. To ask Leveson the "correct time" was one of the
greatest compliments you could pay him. It was a tacit acknowledgm