pebbles which floored
the pathways. The golden hands of the clock pointed to a quarter to
ten, and the chimes uttered their sharp, peremptory voices. Two or
three young men stood talking at the vaulted gateway, and one or two
figures in dilapidated gowns and caps, holding books, fled out of the
court.

A firm footstep came down one of the stairways; a man of about forty
passed out into the court--Howard Kennedy, Fellow and Classical
Lecturer of the College. His thick curly brown hair showed a trace of
grey, his short pointed beard was grizzled, his complexion sanguine,
his eyebrows thick. There were little vague lines on his forehead, and
his eyes were large and clear; an interesting, expressive face, not
technically handsome, but both clever and good-natured. He was
carelessly dressed in rather old but well-cut clothes, and had an air
of business-like decisiveness which became him well, and made him seem
comfortably at home in the place; he nodded and smiled to the
undergraduates at the gate, who smiled back and saluted. He met a young
man rushing down the court, and said to him, "That's right, hurry up!
You'll just be in time," a remark which was answered by a gesture of
despair from the young man. Then he went up the court towards the Hall,
entered the flagged passage, looked for a moment at the notices on the
screen, and went through into the back court, which was surrounded by a
tiny cloister.

Here he met an elderly man, clean-shaven, fresh-coloured,
acute-looking, who wore a little round bowler hat perched on a thick
shock of white hair. He was dressed in a black coat and waistcoat, with
a black tie, and wore rather light grey trousers. One would have taken
him for an old-fashioned country solicitor. He was, as a matter of
fact, the Vice-Master and Senior Fellow of the College--Mr. Redmayne,
who had spent his whole life there. He greeted the younger man with a
kindly, brisk, ironical manner, saying, "You look very virtuous,
Kennedy! What are you up to?"

"I am going for a turn in the garden," said Howard; "will you come with
me?"

"You are very good," said Mr. Redmayne; "it will be quite like a
dialogue of Plato!"

They went down the cloister to a low door in the corner, which Howard
unlocked, and turned into a small old-fashioned garden, surrounded on
three sides by high walls, and overlooking the river on the fourth
side; a gravel path ran all round; there were a few trees, bare and
leafless, and a big