at
another time the miserable idlers and loafers who have brought this
shame, this disgrace on the school, who have no self-respect and no
self-control, who do not know how to behave like gentlemen, who are
idle, vulgar and depraved, will learn by this lesson to mend their ways
and to behave better in the future. But I am sorry to say that it is
not only the chief offenders, who, as I have already said, have been
punished, who are guilty in the matter. Many of the other boys, although
they did not descend to the depths of vulgar behaviour reached by the
culprits I have mentioned, showed a considerable lack of patriotism by
their apathy and their lack of attention while the cricket match was
proceeding this afternoon. I can only hope this may be a lesson to
you all; but while I trust the chief offenders will feel specially
uncomfortable, I wish to impress upon you that you are all, with the
exception of the eleven, in a sense guilty."

With these words the headmaster swept out of the room.

The boys dispersed in whispering groups. Gordon, Smith, and Hart minor,
when they attempted to speak, were met with stony silence; they were
boycotted and cut by the remaining boys.

Gordon and Smith slept in two adjoining cubicles, and in a third
adjoining cubicle was an upper division boy called Worthing. That night,
after they had gone to bed, Gordon asked Worthing whether, among all the
guilty, one just man had not been found.

"Surely," he said, "Campbell minor, who put up the score during the
cricket match, was attentive right through the game, and wouldn't he be
allowed to go to the New Forest with the eleven?"

"No," said Worthing, "he whistled twice."

"Oh!" said Gordon, "I didn't know that. Of course, he can't go!"

THE SHADOW OF A MIDNIGHT A GHOST STORY

It was nine o'clock in the evening. Sasha, the maid, had brought in the
samovar and placed it at the head of the long table. Marie Nikolaevna,
our hostess, poured out the tea. Her husband was playing Vindt with his
daughter, the doctor, and his son-in-law in another corner of the room.
And Jameson, who had just finished his Russian lesson--he was working
for the Civil Service examination--was reading the last number of the
_Rouskoe Slovo_.

"Have you found anything interesting, Frantz Frantzovitch?" said Marie
Nikolaevna to Jameson, as she handed him a glass of tea.

"Yes, I have," answered the Englishman, looking up. His eyes had a
clear dreaminess about