Julian bowed, and walked to his place.

And now that he was seated, with the paper before him, he found himself
in a condition to do nothing. His mind was in a tumult of wrath and
sorrow. Bitter sorrow that his hopes should be shattered; fiery wrath
that any one should have treated him with such malignant cruelty. His
brain swam giddily, and his head throbbed with violent pain. His hands
were still raw and bleeding with his efforts to burst open the door; and
the consciousness that his whole appearance was wild, and that several
eyes were upon him, unnerved him so completely, that he was quite unable
to collect or control his scattered senses. He made but little
progress. The clock of Saint Mary's told the passing hours, and at
twelve Julian found himself with nothing written except a few
half-finished and incoherent sentences which he was ashamed to show up.
Dashing the nib of his pen on the desk, he split it to pieces; and then,
tearing up his papers, was hurrying out, when the voice of the examiner
suddenly recalled him.

"You have not shown me up any papers, Mr Home."

"No, sir," he answered sullenly.

"Indeed! But why?"

"I have not done any, sir."

"Really. I am sorry for that. It is a serious matter, for you have
been doing remarkably well, and--Are you not feeling well?"

"No, sir, not exactly."

"Hum! Well, it is a great pity; a _great_ pity; a _very_ great pity.
However--"

There seemed to be no more to say, and as Julian's mind was in too
turbulent a state to allow of his being communicative, he did not trust
himself to make any remark, and left the room.

Kennedy, who came up with him as he went out, asked what was the matter;
but as he only answered with an impatient gesture, and evidently seemed
to wish to be alone, Kennedy left him and went to inquire of Lillyston
what had happened, while Julian hastened to the solitude of his own
room, and breaking with his poker one of the outer hinges of his door,
to secure himself from a second imprisonment, flung himself on a chair,
and pressed his hands to his burning forehead. In his bitterness of
soul he half determined to abandon all further attempt to gain the
Clerkland, and dwelt, with galling recurrence, on the anguish of
defeated aims. But the sound of the clock striking the hour of
examination started him into sudden effort, and almost mechanically he
seized his cap and gown, and went out without food and unrefreshed.

Although he