In dodging away from Bertie, Mr. Lamb contrived to back amidst the throng, and tread upon their feet. It only wanted that to set them on. This last announcement, so exceedingly characteristic of him, was as the climax of his sins, and they thought the time had come to pay him out. Trace had never been a favourite; and perhaps he really had something of the sneak about him; but this did not make Lamb less of one. Hissing, pushing, striking, calling him every derisive name they could lay their tongues on, buffeting, kicking, the lot set to on the miserable Lamb. And Bertie helped in it. His ears were tingling, his hair was pulled, his eyes were smarting. One whacked him here, another kicked him yonder; his back was already growing blue; his voice, poor wretch, was raised in a howl, piteously shrieking for quarter. Suddenly the onslaught was interrupted. Somebody had interposed to part them, and so stopped the fray. One look round, and the boys fell back in very astonishment. It was their dear old master, Mr. Henry—for dear in truth he had become to them. A little worn, shadowy, looking taller than he used; but with the same kind and gentle face, the same loving gaze from the luminous eyes. Sir Simon stood behind. "I thought I would try and get as far once more; and my good friend, Sir Simon, helped me with his arm," said Mr. Henry, speaking so very quietly that a sudden hush seemed to fall upon the room. "But I did not expect to find you _thus_." As if in excuse, and perhaps a little ashamed of the turmoil, a score of voices avowed the cause. Lamb stood to his creed; and Sir Simon's ears were regaled with Raymond Trace's private misdoings in the past. Perhaps it did not much surprise him. "It does not excuse Lamb," said Gall, his eyes flashing indignation on the latter, who stood cowering behind. "It was Lamb who told about the smoking that time," called out Leek with indignation. "He's a wretched coward." And the boys began to hiss again. "Forgive him for my sake," said Mr. Henry, throwing oil on the troubled waters. "Next term he will do better perhaps; he will have learnt a lesson." "He'd better not come back! he'd better not show his face here again!" growled the boys. "I'm not coming back," retorted Lamb. "But to think that Trace——" "Hush, hush," interrupted Mr. Henry. "We must have peace and pleasantness to-day. How can we expect mercy for our own faults if we do not show it to one another? If you only knew how pleasant it is to do a kindness instead of an injury! Try it, Lamb, in future." Lamb's only answer was to steal out of the room surreptitiously, as quickly as his stiffness allowed. He had not enjoyed his bonneting. Sir Simon Orville went up to Talbot, and fastened a gold watch and chain to his waistcoat.