n at the study door to find
Distin, Gilmore, and Macey seated at the table, all hard at work, but
apparently not over their studies.

"Why, gracious!" cried Macey.

"Alive?" said Gilmore.

"Used to it," sneered Distin. "That sort of creature takes a deal of
killing."

"What's the matter?" said Vane, good-humouredly, taking a seat.

"Why," said Gilmore, "we were all thinking of writing to our tailors to
send us suits of mourning out of respect for you--believe it or not as
you please."

"Thankye," said Vane quietly. "Then I will not believe it, because
Distin wouldn't order black if I were drowned."

"Who said a word about drowned? I said poisoned," cried Gilmore.

"Not a word about it. But why?"

"Because you went home and ate those toadstools."

"Wrong," said Vane quietly, "I haven't eaten them yet."

"Then three cheers for the tailors; there's a chance for them yet,"
cried Macey.

"Why didn't you eat them?" asked Gilmore. "Afraid?"

"I don't think so. They'll be ready by dinner time, will you come?"

Grimaces followed, as Vane quietly opened his books, and glanced round
the rector's room with its handsome book-cases all well filled,
chimney-piece ornamented with classic looking bronzes; and the whole
place with its subdued lights and heavily curtained windows suggestive
of repose for the mind and uninterrupted thought and study.

Books and newly-written papers lay on the table, ready for application,
but the rector's pupils did not seem to care about work in their tutor's
absence, for Macey, who was in the act of handing round a tin box when
Vane entered, now passed it on to the latter.

"Lay hold, old chap," he said. Vane opened it, and took out a piece of
crisp dark brown stickiness generally known as "jumble," and transferred
it to his mouth, while four lower jaws were now seen at work, giving the
pupils the aspect of being members of that portion of the quadrupedal
animal kingdom known as ruminants.

"Worst of this stuff is," said Macey, "that you get your teeth stuck
together. Oh, I say, Gil, what hooks! A whole dozen?"

Gilmore nodded as he opened a ring of fine silkworm gut, and began to
examine the points and backs of the twelve bright blue steel hooks at
the ends of the gut lengths, and the carefully-tied loops at the other.

"Where did you buy them?" continued Macey, as he gloated over the bright
hookah.

No answer.

"Where did you buy them, Gil?" said Macey again.

"Cuo