well awake to a sense of the
undertaking before them.

They still grumbled--at the cold, and the darkness, and the fatigue, and
blamed Ramshaw for all three. They heartily despised themselves for
their promise to the Classic boys last night, and still more for the row
with their own prefects, which was the cause for all this inconvenience.
But as they gradually slipped on their clothes, and the warm bed
receded more into the background, they cheered up and recovered their
courage.

There was no difficulty in getting out. The dormitory door stood open.
Brinkman, who was the prefect on duty, lay snoring loud and long in the
end bed. Mr Forder's bedroom was on the safe side of a brick wall.
Carrying their boots in their hands they slunk off to their study, where
they made a hasty selection from the miscellaneous provisions stored
over-night, and then, one by one, solemnly slid down the rope.

Once on the grass, in the chill, dark air, depression fell upon them a
second time. Their thoughts returned to the snug beds they had left.
Even Brinkman and Clapperton could not take it out of them more than
this white frost and nipping air. However, the bell began to toll six;
and the thought of their companions in discomfort spurred them on to
energy. They crawled across the Green to Wakefield's.

Four ghostly figures were visible in the feeble dawn, hovering under the
wall.

"Got the grub?"

It was the cheery voice of Wally Wheatfield, at sound of which the
pilgrims took comfort, and were glad they had turned out after all.

The first thing was to get clear of Fellsgarth, which was easily
accomplished, as no one was about. Even had they been observed, beyond
the general wonder of seeing nine juniors taking a morning walk at 6
a.m., there was nothing to interfere with their liberty. As soon as
they got into Shargle Woods a brief council of war was held.

"It's a jolly stiff climb," said Wally.

"I've got a compass," said Ashby, as if that disposed of the difficulty.
Ashby had an ulster, which just then seemed to some of his comrades a
still more enviable possession.

"How many miles?" asked Lickford.

"Miles? Who ever reckoned mountains by miles? It's three hours to the
top."

"That'll be nine o'clock," wisely observed Cash.

"Who knows the way up?" Percy asked.

"Way up? Can't you see it?" said Wally. "When you get to the bottom,
you go straight up."

"All very well for you. I can't walk up a perp