It was as he had thought. His unwilling host had climbed back into bed as hastily as possible, and the bed-clothes, wildly disordered, were gathered round his person. A face, with wet hair, looking very odd and childlike without his glasses, regarded him with the look of one who sees sacrilege done. A long flannel nightgown lay on the ground between the steaming bath and the bed, and a quantity of water lay about on the floor, in footprints and otherwise. "May I ask what is the meaning of this disgraceful--" "I'm sorry, sir," said Jack briefly, "but Frank Guiseley's bolted. I've just found this note." It did not occur to him, as he handed the note to a bare arm, coyly protruded from the tangled bed-clothes, that this very officer of the college was referred to in it as "that ass" and "the little man." ... All his attention, not occupied with Frank, was fixed on the surprising new discovery that deans had bodies and used real baths like other people. Somehow that had never occurred to him he had never imagined them except in smooth, black clothes and white linen. His discovery seemed to make Mr. Mackintosh more human, somehow. The Dean read the note through as modestly as possible, holding it very close to his nose, as his glasses were unattainable, with an arm of which not more than the wrist appeared. He swallowed in his throat once or twice, and seemed to taste something with his lips, as his manner was. "This is terrible!" said the Dean. "Had you any idea--" "I knew he was going some time to-day," said Jack, "and understood that you knew too." "But I had no idea--" "You did telegraph, didn't you, sir?" "I certainly telegraphed. Yes; to Lord Talgarth. It was my duty. But--" "Well; he spotted it. That's all. And now he's gone. What's to be done?" Mr. Mackintosh considered a moment or two. Jack made an impatient movement. "I must telegraph again," said the Dean, with the air of one who has exhausted the resources of civilization. "But, good Lord! sir--" "Yes. I must telegraph again. As soon as I'm dressed. Or perhaps you would--" "Office doesn't open till eight. That's no good. He'll be miles away by then." "It's the only thing to be done," said the Dean with sudden energy. "I forbid you to take any other steps, Mr. Kirkby. I am responsible--" "But--" "We must not make a scandal.... What else did you propose?" "Why--fifty things. Motor-cars; police--" "Certainly not. We must make no scandal as he ... as he very properly says." (The Dean swallowed in his throat again. Jack thought afterwards that it must have been the memory of certain other phrases in the letter.) "So if you will be good enough to leave me instantly, Mr. Kirkby, I will finish my dressing and deal with the matter." * * * * * Jack wheeled and went out of the room. * * * * *