hat Langton _was_ going to lie that time--his
code allowed it--but he felt checked somehow. 'Well, I only know the
fellow by name,' he said at last.

'Well, and _what's_ his name? Out with it; I'll give him a detention
card instead.'

'I can't tell you that,' said the boy in a lower voice.

'And why not, ye impident fellow? You've just said you knew it. Why
not?'

'Because it would be sneakish,' said Langton boldly.

'Oh, "sneakish," would it?' said old Jemmy. '"Sneakish," eh? Well,
well, I'm getting old, I forget these things. Perhaps it would. I
don't know what it is to insult an old man--that's fair enough, I dare
say. And so you want me to let you off being whipped, eh?'

'Yes, when I've done nothing.'

'And if I let you off you'll come gallopading in here as lively as
ever to-morrow, calling out "Shellfish"--no, I forgot--"Prawn's"
_your_ favourite epithet, ain't it?--calling out "Prawn" under my very
nose.'

'No, I shan't,' said the boy.

'Well, I'll take your word for it, whatever that's worth,' and he tore
up the compromising paper. 'Run off home to your tea, and don't bother
me any more.'

Langton escaped, full of an awed joy at his wonderful escape, and old
Mr. Shelford locked his desk, got out the big hook-nosed umbrella,
which had contracted a strong resemblance to himself, and went too.

'That's a nice boy,' he muttered--'wouldn't tell tales, wouldn't he?
But I dare say he was taking me in all the time. He'll be able to tell
the other young scamps how neatly he got over "old Jemmy." I don't
think he will, though. I can still tell when a boy's lying--I've had
plenty of opportunities.'

Meanwhile Mark had gone back to his class-room. One of the porters
ran after him with a note, and he opened it eagerly, only to be
disappointed, for it was not from the committee. It was dated from
Lincoln's Inn, and came from his friend Holroyd.

'Dear Ashburn,' the note ran, 'don't forget your promise
to look in here on your way home. You know it's the last
time we shall walk back together, and there's a favour I
want to ask of you before saying good-bye. I shall be at
chambers till five, as I am putting my things together.'

'I will go round presently,' he thought. 'I must say good-bye some
time to-day, and it will be a bore to turn out after dinner.'

As he stood reading the note, young Langton passed him, bag in hand,
with a bright and grateful face.

'Please, sir,' he said, saluting h