He heard the placid tones of Mr Morley feebly remonstrating, then threatening angrily, and towards the end entreating with them, but he was brushed aside by mere strength of numbers and left in the hall of his house shouting mildly after them to show their common-sense and keep the peace. All this Rouse could hear and understand, and when the house seemed quiet again he very cautiously opened the cupboard door and stretched himself. Next moment he received the surprise of his life. The light was suddenly switched on and revealed him. At the same time Terence Nicholson spoke. “Come out,” said he. “Come along out, there’s a good fellow.” For a fleeting space Rouse was absolutely nonplussed and he could only stare. Then he recovered himself with a miraculous effort, brushed his clothes with his hand and stepped daintily out of the cupboard. “Absolutely _NO_ deception,” he observed. “Any gentleman in the audience is fully at liberty to come up and examine both the lady _and_ the box.” He paused. “Nobody? I thank you, ladies and gentlemen, for your very kind attention.” He bowed, paused again, rendered the National Anthem as a cornet solo, cried: “Pass out quickly, please!” and finally stepped up to Terence, who was regarding him with an affectionate pity and faced him defiantly. “Now, how did you know I was in that cupboard?” said he. “And how on earth did you come into this room without my hearing you?” “Elementary,” said Terence, “my jolly old Dr Watson. I came in with the mob. When they ran out again I stayed here and slipped behind the door. Nobody missed me, and as soon as they’d cleared off I simply waited for you to come out. You see, old boy, there’s always something wrong with your schemes. The light from the passage, for example, shone directly upon the cupboard door, and it lit up with strange distinctness a tuft of your coat which was protruding through the slit between the door and the cupboard.” Rouse regarded his coat critically. “A nice piece of material, too,” said he. “Try the feel of it, sir.” Terence smiled grimly. “As soon as I saw you were _apparently_ not here, though, _I_ of course looked towards that cupboard first.” “Thinking,” said Rouse gently, “to reach yourself a piece of pie so soon as the place was clear. I’m inclined to think, young Nicholson, that you were as surprised as I was.” Terence made an abrupt gesture. “The Head’s given his answer.” “What is it?” Terence told him. “The name of the new Rugger captain,” said he, “is Roe.” Rouse looked him through and through, the while his expression slowly changed from one of puzzled misunderstanding to one of set resignation. He asked no questions. He just thought it out for himself whilst Terence watched him. It was no use saying: “What do you mean?” The words were an explanation in themselves. At last, however, he spoke. His face was a little drawn and his eyes shone with an almost feverish light, but his voice was natural.