It came from Paradyne. He was standing with a paper of many sheets in his hand, and had spoken aloud in his shock of surprise. The paper was a Latin essay, to go in that night to the Head Master; it had taken him many days to write it. "What is the matter?" asked Mr. Jebb. Paradyne left his place and carried up the paper. It was torn, blotted, soaked in ink almost from beginning to end. The contents of one inkstand could scarcely have put it in the state it was. "What _is_ it?" cried Mr. Jebb, gazing at the black relic. "It is my Latin essay, sir. I left it clean and perfect in my desk after morning school." "Your Latin essay! You left it—— Nonsense, Paradyne," broke off Mr. Jebb, "you must have had an accident with it: you have been upsetting the ink." The whole school was staring and wondering. On the merit of these essays was supposed to lie very much the decision of the Head Master, whether their author should or should not go up for the Oxford. The school denied all knowledge of the affair. The first desk, collectively and individually, protested they had had no hand in it, and a whisper arose that Paradyne had done it himself to hide the poorness of his Latin. There was no time to attempt another. "He can't go up for the Oxford now," were the first words that greeted Paradyne's ears when the hall rose; and they came from Dick Loftus. "Did _you_ do it?" cried Paradyne, turning sharply upon him. "No, I did not," answered Dick; his red face and his honest eyes raised fearlessly to Paradyne's. "You beat me this morning in a fair, stand-up fight; but I'd scorn to do a mean trick of this sort." "I believe you," said Paradyne, "and I beg your pardon for asking." "And I am sorry that you should lose your chance for Oxford," added Dick, not to be outdone in generosity. "I have never said either, as some of them do, that you ought not to go up for the Orville: it's as fair for you to compete as for the rest, for what I see." But all chance for Paradyne, either for the one or the other, was over, in the opinion of the school. Some of the better-natured felt sorry for him, and said it. Paradyne bore himself bravely before them; not a cloud on his brow, not a shadow on his lips, proclaimed aloud the bitterness of his defeat. But, later, when he was sitting at Mr. Henry's, he astonished that gentleman not a little by bursting into tears. "I had taken such pride in that essay! I had looked forward to this examination with so much certainty of success. And now to have it all destroyed in a moment!" "Hush, George! You may go up yet." "No, I shall not; I can see that Brabazon thinks I did it myself. I might just as well never have worked on for the examination; I'd better not have come to Orville. It's awful treachery!" he burst forth presently, his tone changing as anger superseded the sobs. "I know this has been done by some of them. Oh, what a life it is to lead! And there's another thing—the mother has been counting on my success."