'What the blazes did you do that for? What's Monk got to do with it?' 'He said he'd get me sacked if I didn't pay him,' whined Farnie. This was not strictly true. Monk had not said. He had hinted. And he had hinted at flogging, not expulsion. 'Why?' pursued the Bishop. 'What had you and Monk been up to?' Farnie, using his out-of-bounds adventures as a foundation, worked up a highly artistic narrative of doings, which, if they had actually been performed, would certainly have entailed expulsion. He had judged Gethryn's character correctly. If the matter had been simply a case for a flogging, the Bishop would have stood aside and let the thing go on. Against the extreme penalty of School law he felt bound as a matter of family duty to shield his relative. And he saw a bad time coming for himself in the very near future. Either he must expose Farnie, which he had resolved not to do, or he must refuse to explain his absence from the M.C.C. match, for by now there was not the smallest chance of his being able to get back in time for the visitors' innings. As he rode on he tried to imagine what would happen in consequence of that desertion, and he could not do it. His crime was, so far as he knew, absolutely without precedent in the School history. As they passed the cricket field he saw that it was empty. Stumps were usually drawn early in the M.C.C. match if the issue of the game was out of doubt, as the Marylebone men had trains to catch. Evidently this had happened today. It might mean that the School had won easily--they had looked like making a big score when he had left the ground--in which case public opinion would be more lenient towards him. After a victory a school feels that all's well that ends well. But it might, on the other hand, mean quite the reverse. He put his machine up, and hurried to the study. Several boys, as he passed them, looked curiously at him, but none spoke to him. Marriott was in the study, reading a book. He was still in flannels, and looked as if he had begun to change but had thought better of it. As was actually the case. 'Hullo,' he cried, as Gethryn appeared. 'Where the dickens have you been all the afternoon? What on earth did you go off like that for?' 'I'm sorry, old chap,' said the Bishop, 'I can't tell you. I shan't be able to tell anyone.' 'But, man! Try and realize what you've done. Do you grasp the fact that you've gone and got the School licked in the M.C.C. match, and that we haven't beaten the M.C.C. for about a dozen years, and that if you'd been there to bowl we should have walked over this time? Do try and grasp the thing.' 'Did they win?' 'Rather. By a wicket. Two wickets, I mean. We made 213. Your bowling would just have done it.' Gethryn sat down. 'Oh Lord,' he said blankly, 'this is awful!' 'But, look here, Bishop,' continued Marriott, 'this is all rot. You can't do a thing like this, and then refuse to offer any explanation, and expect things to go on just as usual.'