to be somebody. As the youngest guest present, to him
was accorded the place of honour, next the most charming host in
Christendom, who put him at ease in a jiffy. How good the cutlets and
the pheasant tasted! And how the talk warmed the cockles of his heart!
The brand of the Crossed Arrows shone upon all topics. Who could
expect, or desire, aught else? Caesar's governor seemed to know what
every Harrovian had done worth the doing. Easily, fluently, he
discoursed of triumphs won at home, abroad. In the camp, on the
hustings, at the bar, in the pulpit. And his anecdotes, which
illustrated every phase of life, how pat to the moment they were! One
boy complained ruefully of having spent three terms under a form-master
who had "ragged" him. Charles Desmond sympathized--

"Bless my soul," said he, "don't I remember being three terms in the
Third Fifth when that tartar old Heriot had it? I dare swear I got no
more than my deserts. I was an idle vagabond, but Heriot made my life
such a burden to me that I entreated my people to take me away from
Harrow, And then my governor urged me to put my back into the work and
get a remove. And I did. And would you believe it, upon the first day
of the next term I wired to my people, 'You must take me away. I've
got my remove all right--and so has Heriot.'"

How gaily the speaker led the laugh which followed this recital! And
the chaff! Was it possible that Caesar dared to chaff a man who was
supposed to have the peace of Europe in his keeping? And, by Jove!
Caesar could hold his own.

So the minutes flew. But John noticed, with surprise, that the Demon
didn't score. In fact, John and he were the only guests that
contributed nothing to the feast save hearty appetites. It was strange
that the Demon, the wit of his house and form, never opened his mouth
except to fill it with food. He answered, it is true, and very
modestly, the questions addressed to him by his host; but then, as John
reflected, any silly fool in the Fourth Form could do that.

After luncheon, the boys were dismissed, each with a hearty word of
encouragement and half a sovereign. John was passing the plate-glass
splendours of the Creameries, when the Demon overtook him, and they
walked down the winding High Street together. Scaife had never walked
with John before.

"That was worth while," Scaife said quietly. John could not interpret
this speech, save in its obvious meaning.

"Rather," he