Miss Brabazon walked away quickly; Rose allowed her to go some distance, and then ran after her with a shout. A few words of surprised reprimand echoed on the night air, and they went on together. Trace followed quietly: it was just possible he might catch a stray word, touching the "friend" of Mr. Henry's: and he knew now the latter was not in. In the dwarf shrubbery that wound round near the chapel, between the cricket field and the gymnasium ground, they met Mr. Henry. Trace stepped outside it, behind the bushy laurel trees, and there, rather to his surprise, found himself close to his father, who happened to have strolled to the spot as he waited for his son. Mr. Henry raised his hat as he spoke to Miss Brabazon, and the bright moon lit up his features with perfect distinctness to the view of the gentlemen watchers. "I have left a message for you with Mrs. Butter," said Miss Brabazon. "You will be kind enough to attend to it for me." "I will," answered Mr. Henry. "Is that you, Miss Rose?" "She ran after me, naughty child! I am taking her home for punishment," returned Miss Brabazon, in a tone between jest and anger. "Good-night." They parted. Raymond Trace was hastening after Mr. Henry, when he found his arm detained by his father in a firm grasp. "Let me go," whispered Raymond. "That's Mr. Henry. I can fall into conversation with him more naturally as we walk along, than if I made a formal call at his rooms." "Who do you say it is?" breathed Mr. Trace. "The German master, Mr. Henry." "You are mistaken, Raymond; the moonlight is deceiving you. It is some years since I saw that young man's face, but I should recollect it amidst a thousand." Trace stared. "My dear father, I assure you it is Mr. Henry. I ought to know him; I take my lessons from him daily." "Do you! It is Arthur Paradyne." "Who?" almost shouted Trace. "Arthur Paradyne; the eldest son. In the summer preceding the crash at Liverpool, business called me to Heidelberg. I took a letter of introduction to young Paradyne from his father; he was then a junior master in the university, and I saw him often. He used to act as my interpreter." "Then he has been amidst us under a false name!" exclaimed Trace, with considerable animus. The father gave a slight laugh. "He has found it convenient to be so, no doubt. You must still ask him about this man." Trace darted off. He thought he had got a great hold upon Mr. Henry in this strange secret, and scarcely could persuade himself to make any show of courtesy while he entered on the question of the "German terminations." "I could show you with the book in two minutes what it might take me five to explain without it," said Mr. Henry, with his usual ready kindness. "Perhaps you will come indoors with me." "Have you any visitor?" asked Trace, rather abruptly. "Visitor?—no. I am quite alone."