"Pull your right!" said Crofter. "Hallo! it's one of our fellows.

Looks like Tempest himself."

I wished myself at the bottom of the river then! What would he think of me if he saw me, and if he knew what I had been listening to?

In my perturbation I over-pulled my line and sent our boat into the bank. Tempest, who evidently was relieving himself with a spin of hard exercise after his fashion, and imagined he had the river to himself, was bearing down straight upon us.

"Hallo, there; keep her out!" shouted Crofter.

Tempest looked round in a startled way, and held water hard to avoid a collision. Then, as he suddenly took in who we were, his face lengthened, and he came to a halt alongside.

"You there, Jones iv.?"

"Yes, would you like me to come and steer you?" said I.

Considering the difficulty into which I had just landed my present boat, it was difficult to natter myself any one would exactly compete for my services. But Tempest answered shortly,--

"Come along."

"Hullo, I say," said Crofter suavely, but with a flush on his cheeks, "he's steering me, Tempest."

"He's doing no good. He's stuck you in the bank already. Come along, Jones."

"I haven't done with him yet," said Crofter, flushing still more deeply as his voice became sweeter. "I want him to stay with me."

"And I don't want him to stay with you," blurted out Tempest, losing his temper. "I've told him so already. He can do as he likes, though."

And he began to dip his sculls again in the water.

"No," said I, "I want to come in your boat, Tempest."

"Come along, then;" and he backed his stern up towards me.

Crofter made no further protest; but greeted my desertion with a mellifluous laugh, which made me more uncomfortable than a storm of objurgations.

Tempest said nothing, but dug his blades viciously in the water, and spun away with grim face and clenched teeth.

For a quarter of a mile he sculled on before he lay on his oars and exclaimed,--

"You young fool!"

"Why," pleaded I, "I didn't think you'd mind. He's been friendly enough to you lately."

"Bah! What do I care what he is to me? I told you to fight shy of the fellow, and there you go and give yourself away to him."

I did not quite like this. Tempest spoke to me as if I had not a soul of my own, and had no right to do anything without his leave.

"He was speaking quite kindly about you," persisted I.

Tempest checked the contemptuous exclamation which came to his lips, and said, more earnestly than I had heard him yet,--

"Look here, Jones; that fellow's a cad; and he'll make a cad of you, if you let him. Don't believe a word he says to you, unless he calls you a fool."

"I hope what he's been saying to-day will turn out to be Lies," said I oracularly.

To my disappointment Tempest evinced no curiosity as to my meaning, and relapsed into gloomy silence for the rest of the voyage.

For the first time in my life I felt out of humour with my old Dux. He had no right to treat me like a baby, or dictate to me whom I was to know and whom I was not to know in Low Heath. No doubt he thought he was doing me a good turn, and honestly thought ill of Crofter. But it did not follow he was not doing him an injustice, and demanding that I should join in it.

At any rate, I felt heartily miserable, and wished I had never put foot outside the f.a.ggery that day.

About a mile from home Tempest got out on the towing-path, and said he would trot to the school while I paddled the boat home. It was some relief to be left alone; a relief, however, which was considerably tempered by the fear of meeting Crofter, and having to explain matters to him. That difficulty fortunately did not occur, and I got back to the bosom of the Philosophers without further adventure.

In their sweet society I gradually recovered my spirits. Their enthusiasm for Tempest was still unabated, and their avowed contempt for his enemies all the world over was refreshing. A night's reflection further repaired my loyalty. After all, thought I, Tempest meant well by me, and was willing to make an enemy for my sake. He might be wrong, of course; but suppose he _was_ right--

The result of all these inward musings was that I offered Trimble to do Tempest's f.a.gging in his place next morning.

He seemed half to expect me, and the old friendly look was back in his face as he saw me enter.

"I'm sorry I offended you yesterday, Tempest," said I.

"I fancied it was I offended you," said he; "but I couldn't stand seeing you in that cad's clutches."

"Is he really a cad, then?" I asked.

"You don't suppose I asked you into my boat for fun, do you?" said he shortly.

I went on for some time with my work, and then said,--

"Would you like to know what he was saying about you?"

"Not a bit," said he, so decisively that I relapsed again into silence.

"Look here, kid," said he, presently, and with unwonted seriousness.

"I'm not a saint, and don't profess to be. And I may not be able to manage my own affairs, to judge by what you and half a dozen other of the fellows seem to think; but I don't want to see you--well, come to grief--and that's what you're likely to do if you let that fellow get hold of you."

"He's not got hold of me," said I, feeling a little hurt once more.

"Mayn't I be civil to a fellow, even? Why, he was saying if you--"

"Shut up! didn't I tell you I don't want to hear?" said he.

"Oh, all right."

If he had only vouchsafed to tell me why he disliked Crofter, or if he had given his counsel in a less authoritative way, it would have been different. He would not even let me repeat the friendly remarks Crofter had made about him; and was determined neither to say a good word for the fellow himself, nor let me say one.

The consequence was that our interview ended in my wishing once more I had confined myself to my own quarters and let ill alone.

My companions were not long in discovering that something was on my mind, and in their gentle way tried to cheer me up.