"I'm on my way back to Arkell's! I'm on my way back to Arkell's!" he exclaimed, in an impetuous manner; and forthwith he began recounting a history to Mr. St. John; a history of wrong, which filled him, the dean, with indignation. "I suspected something of the sort," was Mr. St. John's quiet answer; and the dean strode on his way, and Mr. St. John stood looking after him, in painful thought. When the dean came out of Mr. Peter Arkell's again, he was too late for service that afternoon. Although he was in residence! Just in the unprepared and sudden manner that the news of Henry Arkell's approaching death must have fallen upon my readers, so did it fall upon the town. People could not believe it: his friends could not believe it: the doctors scarcely believed it. The day wore on; and whether there may have lingered any hope in the morning, the evening closed it, for it brought additional agony to his injured head, and the most sanguine saw that he was dying. All things were prepared for the service, about to take place, and Henry lay flushed, feverish, and restless, lest he should become delirious ere the hour should arrive: he had become so rapidly worse since the forepart of the day. Precisely as the cathedral clock struck seven, the house door was thrown open, and the dean placed his foot on the threshold: "PEACE BE UNTO THIS HOUSE, AND TO ALL THAT DWELL WITHIN IT!" The dean was attended to the chamber, and there he commenced the office for the Visitation of the Sick, omitting part of the exhortation, but reading the prayer for a soul on the point of departure. Then he proceeded with the Communion. When the service was over, all, save Mrs. Arkell and the dean, quitted the room. Henry's mind was tranquil now. "I will not forget your request," whispered the dean. "Near to the college door, as we enter," was Henry's response. "It shall be done as you wish, my dear." "And, sir, you have _promised_ to forgive them." "For your sake. You are suffering much just now," added the dean, as he watched his countenance. "It gets more intense with every hour. I cannot bear it much longer. Oh, I hope I shall not suffer beyond my strength!" he panted; "I hope I shall be able to bear the agony!" "Do not fear it. You know where to look for help!" whispered the dean; "you cannot look in vain. Henry, my dear boy, I leave you in peace, do I not?" "Oh yes, sir, in perfect peace. Thank you greatly for all." CHAPTER X. THE GRAVESTONE IN THE CLOISTERS. It was the brightest day, though March was not yet out, the first warm, lovely day of spring. Men passed each other in the streets, with a congratulation that the winter weather had gone, and the college boys, penned up in their large schoolroom, gazed aloft through the high windows at the blue sky and the sunshine, and thought what a shame it was that they should be held prisoners on such a days instead of galloping over the country at "Hare and Hounds."