ou are quite new to the ways and rules of this place. Take
the letter. Post it; but don't say a word to Percival that I stopped
you. Do you understand?"

"Yes; I understand," said the boy, as he took the letter, and ran off
with it to the post. He looked at the letter as he ran. Was it the same?
Yes, the very same--the same address, in Paul's handwriting. It was very
kind of Mr. Weevil, and he would always be grateful to him for his
kindness.

Paul, meanwhile, had gone to Mr. Travers, wondering what he could want
with him. The master of the Fifth was a man of about thirty, who led a
studious, secluded life. He was a capable master, but had not succeeded
in winning the sympathies of the scholars. One of the chief reasons was
that, though he took an interest in their studies, he took little
interest in their sports. He preferred instead long, solitary rambles.
Paul was, therefore, the more surprised when he found that the object of
Mr. Travers in sending for him was to question him as to the relations
between him and his class-mates.

"I've noticed that you do not appear to be on very good terms with the
Form, Percival," he said. "I should not have said anything about it,
only I happened to be near the Common Room this afternoon when you
entered, and found that that was a signal for the others to march out. I
don't like a feeling of that kind in my Form. I know well enough that
boys will have their quarrels, and that they can be usually trusted to
settle them alone; but this seems to me deeper than an ordinary quarrel,
otherwise I should not have spoken. I have no wish to press for your
confidence, but if you will tell me what the cause of this ill-feeling
is, I might do something to bring about a better understanding between
you and the Form."

"Oh, it's only a bit of a dispute between me and Moncrief major."

"And for a dispute between you and Moncrief major all the Form are
against you?"

"They take his side, sir. They think that he is right and I'm in the
wrong--that is all."

"That is all!" echoed the master. "And that is all the explanation you
can give? Remember, I'm not forcing an explanation from you. I'm not
asking you as your master, but as your friend."

Paul was drawn to him as he had never been drawn before, such is the
power of sympathy. He regretted more than ever that he had sent the
letter to Mr. Moncrief; but it was impossible to recall it. Hibbert was
on his way with it at that moment to the