"Yes; he was an old school-servant, and there's no harm in him that I know of." But Eric only "phewed" again two or three times, and thought of Montagu. Suddenly Wildney clutched him by the arm, and pulled him into the deep shadow of a porch, whispering in a low tone, "Look!" Under a lamp-post directly opposite them, stood Mr Rose. He had heard voices and footsteps a moment before, and, puzzled at their sudden cessation in the noiseless street, he was looking round. "We must run for it," whispered Wildney hastily, as Mr Rose approached the porch; and the two boys took to their heels, and scampered away as hard as they could, Eric helping on Wildney by taking his hand, and neither of them looking behind. They heard Mr Rose following them at first, but soon distanced him, and reached a place where two roads met, either of which would lead to the school. "We won't go by the road; I know a short cut by the fields. What fun!" said Wildney, laughing. "What an audacious little monkey you are; you know all sorts of dodges," said Eric. They had no time to talk, but with a speed winged by fear got to the school, sprang on the buttress beneath the window, effected their entrance, and vanished after replacing the bar--Eric to his study, and Wildney to his dormitory. "Here's a go!" said the latter, as they ran up stairs. "I've smashed one of the beer bottles in getting through the window, and my trousers are deluged with the stuff." They had hardly separated when Mr Rose's step was heard on the stairs. He was just returning from a dinner-party, when the sight of two boys and the sound of their voices startled him in the street, and their sudden disappearance made him sure that they were Roslyn boys, particularly when they began to run. He strongly suspected that he recognised Wildney as one of them, and therefore made straight for his dormitory, which he entered, just as that worthy had thrust the beer-stained trousers under his bed. Mr Rose walked up quietly to his bedside, and observed that he was not asleep, and that he still had half his clothes on. He was going away when he saw a little bit of the trousers protruding under the mattress, and giving a pull, out they came wringing wet with the streams of beer. He could not tell at first what this imported, but a fragment of the bottle fell out of the pocket with a crash on the floor, and he then discovered. Taking no notice of Wildney's pretended sleep, he said quietly, "Come to me before breakfast to-morrow, Wildney," and went down stairs. Eric came in soon after, and found the little fellow vainly attempting to appear indifferent as he related to his admiring auditors the night's adventure; being evidently rather proud of the "Eric and I," which he introduced every now and then into his story. "Has he twigged you?" "Yes." "And me?" "I don't know; we shall see to-morrow." "I hope not," said Eric; "I'm sorry for you, Charlie." "Can't be cured, must be endured," said Wildney.