nd separately
counted--one for each brother on the two foundations.

The Brethren, however, loitered in groups before their doorways,
along the west side of the quadrangle, awaiting a signal from the
porter's lodge. Brother Manby, there, had promised to warn them as
soon as the Master emerged from his lodging with the other Trustees
and a few distinguished guests--including the Bishop of Merchester,
Visitor of St. Hospital--on their way to dine. The procession would
take at least three minutes coming through the outer court--ample
time for the Brethren to scramble up the stairway, take their places,
and assume the right air of reverent expectancy.

As a rule--Brother Copas, standing on the gravel below Brother Biscoe
and counting the strokes for him, begged him to note it--they were
none so dilatory. But gossip held them. His shrewd glance travelled
from group to group, and between the strokes of the bell he counted
the women-folk.

"They are all at their doors," he murmured. "For a look at the dear
Bishop, think you?"

"They are watching to see what Warboise will do," quavered Brother
Biscoe. "Oh, I know!"

"The women don't seem to be taking much truck with Warboise or his
Petition. See him over there, with Plant and Ibbetson only. . . .
And Ibbetson's only there because his wife has more appetising fish
to fry. But she's keeping an eye on him--watch her! Poor woman, for
once she's discovering Rumour to be almost too full of tongues."

"I wonder you're not over there too, lending Warboise support,"
suggested Brother Biscoe. "Royle told me last night that you had
joined the Protestant swim."

"But I am here, you see," Brother Copas answered sweetly; "and just
for the pleasure of doing you a small service."

Even this did not disarm the old man, whose temper was malignant.

"Well, I wish you joy of your crew. A secret drinker like Plant, for
instance! And your friend Bonaday, in his second childhood--"

"Bonaday will have nothing to do with us."

"Ah?" Brother Biscoe shot him a sidelong glance. "He's more
pleasantly occupied, perhaps?--if it's true what they tell me."

"It never is," said Brother Copas imperturbably; "though I haven't a
notion to what you refer."

"But surely you've heard?"

"Nothing: and if it concerns Bonaday, you'd best hold your tongue
just now; for here he is."

Brother Bonaday in fact, with Nurse Branscome and Corona, at that
moment emerged from the doorway of his