one morning in the passage. I suppose I must have looked
specially miserable, for, contrary to his usual practice now, instead of
looking away, he slackened speed as he came up and looked at me. Now
was my time surely. I was famished for want of a friendly word or look,
and my pride was at its last gasp. I believe I had actually begun to
speak, when a sound in the passage startled us both, and we passed by as
of old--strangers.

I rushed off to my study, ashamed and disappointed, and paced round it
like a caged animal. What could I do? Should I write to some of the
fellows? Should I tell Draven? or--should I escape?

Then it occurred to me, had not I a right to know why I was being
treated like this? What had I done? Was I a sneak, or a leper, or a
murderer, that I should thus be excommunicated and tortured? What a
fool I had been, not to think of this before! Alas! it was too late
now. My pride had made it impossible for me to speak the first word
without surrendering all along the line; and even yet, at the eleventh
hour, I could not face that. So I shut myself up for another day,
miserable, nervous, and ill, and counted the minutes to bedtime.

The evening post brought a letter from Browne, and, thankful for any
diversion, and the silent company even of a friendly piece of paper, I
crawled off early to my study to make the most of my little comfort.

I started before I had read two lines, and uttered an exclamation of
amazement.

"Dear Smither,--

"There's been a most frightful mistake. By the same post as brought
your letter I got enclosed from Williams. What a set of cads they've
been, and all my fault! I've written to Williams that if it's not all
put right in twenty-four hours I'll come down, disgraced as I am, and
tell Draven. I'm in too great a rage to write more. Unless I get a
telegram `All right!' by ten to-morrow morning I'll come.

"Yours ever,--

"P. Browne."

Williams's letter enclosed--or rather part of it, for Browne had kept
one sheet--was as follows, though my head was swimming so much at the
time that I could scarcely take it all in.

"The fellows here haven't forgotten you, and they're showing it in a
pretty decided way at present. About three weeks ago we discovered that
Smither, who called himself your friend, was the sneak who went to
Draven the morning you were expelled, and let out about you. He was
seen coming from D.'s study early, and young Wright, who happe