the calf which made me exclaim "Oh!"
rather more loudly than I should have chosen to do under ordinary
circumstances. Luckily the general movement of the class somewhat
deadened the sound, and if Mr Sharpe heard me, he did not consider it
worth his while to deprive Tempest of the task of elucidating the reason
of it.

I kept my man carefully in view, and followed him upstairs into a little
study about the size of a commodious sentry box, with a window, book-
case, sofa, table, chairs, and all the requirements of a single man of
few needs. It seemed to me a delightful little sanctum; and for a
moment I began to wonder whether, being an exhibitioner, I might not be
entitled to one like it for myself--perhaps this _was_ mine.

Tempest soon disabused me of that notion.

"Light the fire, and stick on my kettle, kid," said he--they were the
first words after more than a year--"and cut and get us a muffin from
the shop."

"I say," said I, longing for rather more cordial a recognition, "I am
jolly glad to see you again, Tempest."

Just then another senior popped his head in.

"Have tea with me. Tempest? Come on, Wales is coming too."

"Is Crofter coming?"

"No."

"All right, I'm on; thanks, Pridgin. Blow that fire out, kid."

"Is that kid your fag?"

"Not likely."

"Is he all there? Sharpe seemed to doubt it."

Tempest shrugged his shoulders.

"How soon? Ten minutes?"

"Yes--not longer."

"Now, kid," said Tempest, when we were left alone, "how long are you
going to play the fool? Take your time; but let us know when you've
done, that's all."

"Really, I'm not fooling; I know I ought to have had on the lavender--"

Tempest laughed. A jolly laugh it was, though it frequently preceded a
licking.

"You mean to say you sucked in all that rot? I thought I'd just see how
far you'd let yourself be humbugged; I'm sorry I didn't tell you to
stand on your head. I don't doubt you'd have done it."

I had painful reason to think he might be right.

"Why, even Dicky Brown was too old a bird for that sort of chaff," said
Tempest; "he twigged it at once--and he's a day boy. Hand me that cane
out of the cricket box, there's a good fellow, and hold out your hand.
Don't yell; only muffs do that."

"What?" I exclaimed, "am I to be licked, Dux?"

"Don't call me Dux here. Yes, rather--three on each hand."

"But Mr Sharpe only said--"

"Sharpe--what's he got to do with it? Come on, look alive, or I shal