zar_ indeed! there, take that, and
begone." He had meant to empty the tumbler in his face, but his hand
shook with passion, and the glass flew out of it, and after cutting the
top of Hazlet's head, fell broken on the floor.

With a howl of dismay Hazlet fled to his own rooms, where, having
satisfied himself that the cut had done little other harm than leaving
some red streaks upon his damp and lanky hair, he put over it some
strips of plaster as large as he conveniently could, and then with a
lugubrious expression went to hall, and gratified his malice by buzzing
and babbling among his fellows all sorts of lies and exaggerations about
Julian's conduct and state of mind. When Kennedy came in, however, he
put an abrupt end to Hazlet's calumnies by handling his own tumbler with
so significant a glance, that Hazlet assumed a look of terror, and, amid
shouts of laughter, retired with all speed out of reach of the danger.

Lillyston, always a firm and faithful friend, was grieved to the soul to
hear of Julian's condition; for, without believing half that Hazlet
said, it was at least clear that Julian had shown some violence, and, if
Hazlet was to be trusted, "had sworn at him in a manner perfectly
awful." What had come over Julian of late? Since that fit of
uncontrollable and lasting passion which had overpowered him when he was
screwed in, he did not seem to have recovered that noble moral strength
and equilibrium which was usually conspicuous in his character. The
restlessness which had prevented him from doing the paper, the half
sullen silence through the day, the horse-whipping of Brogten, the
second outburst of unchecked feeling at the loss of the scholarship, and
finally, this treatment of Hazlet, caused Lillyston a deep regret that
his friend should have strayed so widely from his usual calm and manly
course. It was as if one staggering blow had loosened all the joints of
his moral armour, and left room for successive wounds. He determined to
go and see him before chapel, and, if possible, get him to come and
spend the evening quietly with him; he was only prevented from going at
once by supposing that Julian would be dining by himself to avoid
meeting any one in hall, and he did not wish to disturb him at his
lonely meal.

Julian's head was aching with mortification, passion, and fatigue; it
seemed as if he had but one thought to which he could turn, and that
this was a thought of weariness and pain. He dwe