r captain, and leave me alone."

And he flung himself miserably into his chair, leaning forward with his
head on his hands, and apparently indifferent whether I stayed or went.

I went, leaving him thus. And the memory of him sitting there haunted
me all that night and for weeks to come.

When, next day, the news went round that Tempest had escaped expulsion,
the general delight was tempered with amazement at the rumour which
accompanied it, that he owed his escape to Crofter. No one but Crofter
himself could have put the latter story into circulation, and to any one
knowing the two seniors as well as I did, it was obvious that what had
completed the humiliation of one had been the crowning triumph of the
other.

Crofter could not have avenged himself for the insults of the term more
effectively; and Tempest's proud nature could not have suffered a
bitterer wound than to know that he had been put under an obligation in
spite of himself, and without the possibility of preventing it, by his
worst enemy.

The ordinary "Sharper" could hardly be expected to trouble himself about
questions of motive. It was sufficient for him that his hero was saved,
and that the credit of the popular act which saved him belonged to
Crofter.

Consequently both were cheered equally when they appeared in public, and
of the two Crofter accepted his popularity with a far better grace than
his mortified adversary.

But it was all very miserable to me as I slunk home that afternoon in
the train. All the hopes of the wonderful term had been disappointed.
I was a recognised dunce and idler at Low Heath. I had lost my best
friend and sold myself to his enemy. My self-respect was at a low ebb.
I knew that in a post or two would come a report which would bring tears
to my mother's eyes, and cause my guardian to grunt and say, "I expected
as much." The worst of it was, I could not get it out of my head yet
that I was rather a fine young fellow if only people knew it, and that
my misfortunes were more to blame for the failure of the term than my
faults.

To my relief a letter came early in the holidays from Dicky Brown's
people, asking me to spend the last two weeks with them, I jumped at it,
for in my present miserable frame of mind even home was dismal.

But when I found myself back at Low Heath, installed in Dicky's quiet
little family circle, I was almost sorry I had come. For Dicky was all
high spirits and jubilation. He had won a