rly raced him across the back quad, but just as
we were going into the front one Lambert stopped suddenly and doubled
back, while I was running so furiously that I did not turn quickly
enough, and before I could follow him I saw another man standing in
front of me with a little straggly beard and great big spectacles. We
looked at each other, and then I gave up thinking about Lambert and
walked back to my rooms; there was a horrid wind, and I shivered in my
pyjamas as I went back to my staircase. Lambert seemed to have
disappeared altogether, but I met Jack striking matches and groping his
way down.

"Did you catch him?" he asked.

"Just like my luck," I answered. "I met the Subby."

"What's he doing at this time of night?"

"That's what he will ask me to-morrow if he recognized me. There
wasn't much light."

"He ought to have been in bed."

"I don't believe dons ever go to bed," I replied. "Give me a match, so
that I can get up without breaking my neck."

The next morning Lambert came round while I was at breakfast. He was
full of apologies and hopes that the Subby had not recognized me.

"He told me that he sleeps so badly, that he often gets up in the
middle of the night and takes a walk," he said, without the slightest
regard for truth.

"Then there is no reason why I shouldn't take a run if I like," I
replied.

"But you were shouting," he said, as if he wished I had not been.

"I'm a somnambulist, only I somnambulate faster than most people."

"I'm afraid that won't wash," he said, and he started striding up and
down my room until he found he was always coming to a wall, and then he
stopped in front of the looking-glass, and stared earnestly at himself.
"Can't we think of anything better than that?" he asked.

"Doesn't your own face help you?" I asked, and he turned round slowly.

"One of my front teeth has got a chip off it," he said.

"By Jove!" I answered, for Lambert both the last thing at night and the
first thing in the morning, was too much for me.

"But about the Subby?"

"He hasn't sent for me yet. Just poke your head out of the door and
yell for Clarkson; yell, don't think you are singing."

He did yell, and I had breakfast cleared away.

"I am afraid he must have seen you if you saw him," he went on, and the
bulk of the man seemed to cover up all my mantelpiece.

"Get out of the light, I want some matches," I said. "Perhaps he saw
you."

"No, I caught a glimpse of his b