He looked again. It was not one blade only, but two or three. With an exclamation of consternation he tore off the covering and disclosed--the turf!

A joke? No wonder Mr Bickers's manner had been a trifle stiff that morning.

However had it got there? It was like a conjurer's trick. No one had seen or touched the parcel but himself. He had himself placed it in Mr Bickers's hands. Indeed, from the time he had taken the things from Herapath's cupboard till the moment of parting with them, he had scarcely had his eyes off it.

Stay! That evening he was at the Forum, he had left it for an hour unguardedly in his room. Yet, even then, he could almost have sworn the parcel had been untouched in his absence. Besides, the letter was there still, directed in his own hand.

He picked up the envelope, to satisfy himself it was the same. Of course it was; and he had explained in his letter what the articles were.

He took out the letter and glanced at it; and as he did so the blood rushed to his face, and he knew at last that he had been made a fool of.

It needed no great penetration to guess who it was to whom he owed his humiliation. So he armed himself with a ruler in one hand and the parcel in the other, and walked over to Herapath's study.

The proprietors were at home, and had apparently expected the visit, for an elaborate barricade had been drawn across the door by means of the table, bedstead, and other furniture, so that Felgate, when he looked in, could barely see more than the heads of his young friends.

"Let me in," he said, trying to push the door open.

"Awfully sorry; can't come in," said Dig cheerfully. "Herapath and I are having a scrub up. Come again presently."

"Do you hear me, you two? Let me in at once."

"Don't you hear, we're doing the place up?" said Arthur. "Go to some of the other chaps if you want a job done."

"I want you two; and if you don't let me in at once, I'll force my way in."

"Say what you want there; we can hear," said Arthur.

Felgate made a violent effort to effect an entrance, but without avail.

The stout iron bedsteads held their own, and the wedge inserted under the door prevented it from opening farther than to allow the invader's head to peep in.

"I shall report you for this," said Felgate.

"Ha! ha! ha! you're not a monitor, my boy. Go and do it. We'll report you for invading our privacy. Say what you want there, can't you?"

"You know what I want well enough," said Felgate, forced at last to recognise that entrance was hopeless.

"What's the good of coming to tell us, then?" responded Dig.

"What business had you to go to my room the other evening?"

"Went to return your call," said Arthur. "Sorry we weren't at home when you called on us, and thought we'd do the polite and look you up. That makes us square, doesn't it?"

"Do you know I could get you expelled for coming and taking things out of my room?" said Felgate.

"Ha! ha! Do it! look sharp. We'll all go home together."

"I want the things you took away; do you hear? One of the masters has sent for them; they are to be given up immediately."

"Are they? Tell one of the masters, if he wants them he'd better go up the chimney after them."

"I shan't waste my time here any more. You'll be sorry for it, both of you, when I catch you."

"All right, wait till then. I say, you haven't seen a lump of turf about, have you? There's one missing."

"Ha! ha!" chimed in Dig. "How did you like the writing of the letter?

Jolly hand our chaps write in the Sh.e.l.l, don't they?"

Felgate had not remained to hear these last two genial inquiries, but had returned, storming and raving, to his room.

The only game left him now was revenge. He would be very much surprised if that did not come off a little better than the last!

Arthur and Dig, meanwhile, were by no means in the elated spirits which their successful resistance to the siege might have warranted. Not that they were affected by the bully's retreating threat; they had heard that sort of thing from one or two fellows in their day, and their bones were still unbroken.

No; what afflicted them, and plunged them into a sea of wrath and misery, was the report circulated that morning and confirmed by reliable testimony, that Marky was going to leave Grandcourt.

At first they could not credit it. But when Ainger himself, with a long face, confirmed it, they were forced to believe their ears.

"Why?" they asked.

But Ainger had nothing to tell them on that score.

They therefore took the bold step of waiting upon the Master of the Sh.e.l.l himself.

"Marky," said Arthur, "it's not true you're leaving, is it?"

The misery of the boy's tone went to Railsford's heart.

"I am afraid it is true, Arthur. How did you hear?"

"Everybody knows. But, I say, why?"

"I have resigned."

"You resigned--of your own accord? Haven't you been kicked out, then?

Aren't you obliged to go?"

"I am obliged to go, that's why I have resigned. You'll know all about it some day."

"But, I say, can't you withdraw your resignation and stay? Oh, I say, Marky, we shall be awfully up a tree without you here. Why ever are you going? Can't it all be squared?"

"No, old fellow, I fear not. But I am not going for a week yet. Let's make the most of the time, and get ahead with our work; for, remember, you've that Swift Exhibition coming near ahead."

"Work!" exclaimed Arthur, in disgust. "I'll not do a stroke of work more. I tell you what, if you leave, Marky, I shall leave too, and so will Dig, there!"

"My dear old fellow," said Railsford kindly, "you are talking like a little donkey. If you want to help me, you'll just determine to work all the harder now."

"I say," said Dig, shirking the question, "have you got into a row, Mr Railsford? Is it anything about--you know what?"