It was the dusk of a winter evening when they got out from the close room into the open air, and they had to consider which way they would choose to avoid discovery. They happened to choose the wrong, but escaped by dint of hard running, and Wildney’s old short cut. As they ran they passed several boys (who having been caught, were walking home leisurely), and managed to get back undiscovered, when they both answered their names quite innocently at the roll-call, immediately after lock up. “What lucky dogs you are to get off,” said many boys to them. “Yes, it’s precious lucky for me,” said Wildney. “If I’d been caught at this kind of thing a second time, I should have got something worse than a swishing.” “Well, it’s all through you I escaped,” said Eric, “you knowing little scamp.” “I’m glad of it, Eric,” said Wildney in his fascinating way, “since it is all through me you went. It’s rather too hazardous though; we must manage better another time.” During tea-time Eric was silent, as he felt pretty sure that none of the sixth form or other study boys would particularly sympathise with his late associates. Since the previous evening he had been cool with Duncan, and the rest had long rather despised him as a boy who’d do anything to be popular; so he sat there silent, looking as disdainful as he could, and not touching the tea, for which he felt disinclined after the recent potations. But the contemptuous exterior hid a self-reproving heart, and he felt how far more noble Owen and Montagu were than he. How gladly would he have changed places with them! how much he would have given to recover some of their forfeited esteem! The master on duty was Mr. Rose, and after tea he left the room for a few minutes while the tables were cleared for “preparation,” and the boys were getting out their books and exercises. All the study and class-room boys were expected to go away during this interval; but Eric, not noticing Mr. Rose’s entrance, sat gossipping with Wildney about the dinner and its possible consequences to the school. He was sitting on the desk carelessly, with one leg over the other, and bending down towards Wildney. He had just told him that he looked like a regular little sunbeam in the smoking-room of the Jolly Herring, and Wildney was pretending to be immensely offended by the simile. “Hush! no more talking,” said Mr. Rose, who did everything very gently and quietly. Eric heard him, but he was inclined to linger, and had always received such mild treatment from Mr. Rose, that he didn’t think he would take much notice of the delay. For the moment he did not, so Wildney began to chatter again. “All study boys to leave the room,” said Mr. Rose. Eric just glanced round and moved slightly; he might have gone away, but that he caught a satirical look in Wildney’s eye, and besides wanted to show off a little indifference to his old master, with whom he had had no intercourse since their last-mentioned conversation.