; but they waited in vain. He neither spoke nor
moved. He was not thinking of himself, nor of the boys that stood around
him. He had ears and eyes for Stanley, and no other. It was a
transformed Stanley--not the Stanley he had once known.

"Lost your tongue?" cried Stanley, breaking the silence. "Come, out with
it. We can't wait here all day! How did you manage to get hold of the
flag? Who had it, and how did you get it back to Garside? Don't be so
awfully modest? You've hidden your light under a bushel too long."

"The flag is back at Garside," answered Paul firmly, ignoring the taunt.
"For the rest you had better ask Mr. Weevil. I don't owe any explanation
to you or any other fellow in the Form!"

He turned away, but Stanley sprang between him and the door.

"That won't do? You do owe us an explanation, and I mean having it!"

"You?"

There was more of sorrow than anger in Paul's voice, but to the
sensitive ears of Stanley, strung to the highest tension, it sounded
strangely like contempt.

"I! What were you doing with the Beetle we saw you with near the
sand-pits this afternoon?"

"The Beetle you ran away from, you know," added Newall. "The Beetle you
left Moncrief to fight for you!"

This wholly unnecessary piece of information sent the scarlet back for a
moment into the white face of Stanley. His hands opened spasmodically;
then closed in a firmer grip than before.

The gibe acted differently on Paul. He recalled that Stanley had really
suffered for him; he recalled too, the note of warning that had been
left for him in his dormitory. Perhaps, after all, it had been written
by Stanley? The Stanley he had once known as a friend. And there came
over him the old longing to clasp him by the hand.

"I will try to explain to you if you will meet me somewhere alone," he
said, drawing near to Stanley, and speaking in a little more than a
whisper.

"Speak out! I want no secrets!" cried Stanley.

"All the fellows in the Form have as much right to hear as I have! What
I can hear they can hear! I don't want to go about sneaking and
whispering in corners!"

Murmurs of applause greeted this expression of opinion.

"If that's the way you look at it," answered Paul sorrowfully, "the
thing's ended. I've nothing more to say."

"But I have, and you must hear--must!" repeated Stanley, with emphasis,
as Paul tried to pass him. "It's your honour I'm thinking of, as much as
the honour of the school. Do you know what t