As we reached Cecil’s the Pilot emerged from the porch carrying Cook’s Commentary on Habakkuk, and three large red notebooks; he is in for Honour Theology, but as in a recent essay he explained the word Gamaliel as meaning ‘the Pavement,’ while Gabbatha became ‘the lady who died after knitting coats and garments,’ we fear he is not very far advanced. Without any preamble we demanded thirty shillings, but the Pilot, whose money affairs are in fearful confusion, explained that he had just borrowed three pounds off his tailor, and could not possibly lend us anything. We accordingly hurried on into College, and found Accrington surveying two summonses spread out on Hawkins’ Handbook to Logic, which invaluable work he was endeavouring to learn by heart before Monday. Freddy had just begun ‘Can you lend,’ when his eye fell upon the blue documents, and the request died upon his lips. ‘No, I’m very sorry I can’t,’ said Accrington, ‘can you?’ But nobody laughed at this; the situation was altogether too grave. It appeared from a perusal of these documents that Messrs. Hooper, of the High, and Daniel Dickens and Co., the picture dealers, had taken out a summons signed by a certain Frank Bolton, Mandatory,--whatever that might be--which bade ‘Stephen Kirkbury Accrington appear personally or by his proctor at the Apodyterium of the Convocation House to answer the plaintiff’s claim.’ Some paragraphs on the back remarked ‘that if the debt claimed is more than six years old, that if you were then or are now a married woman, or have been discharged under the Bankruptcy Act, notice must be given three days before the hearing.’ These parting shots did not appear to give Accrington any comfort, and he said that he was trying to raise a loan from the family lawyer. We condoled with him, and then seeing clearly that there was no hope for us in that quarter, hastened back to pawn the candlesticks before Squiff’s return. On the stairs of their digs we met Mrs. Corker, who was, as usual with her during working hours, very much out of breath, but she managed to pant at Freddy, ‘’Ave you seen Mr. O’Roozer, me lord?’ ‘No,’ said Freddy, ‘has he been in?’ ‘O yes, me lord,’ replied the old lady, ‘’e came in about ’arf an hour ago and asked for your lordship, ’e said as ’ow ’e wanted to see your lordship most pertickler.’ ‘But about ten minutes ago,’ she continued, now in a tone of mingled wonder and indignation, ‘as I was a-goin up these ’ere stairs, I met ’im a comin’ down with them there ’andsome candlesticks under ’is harm, and when I says, “I’ll clean ’em for yer, Mr. O’Roozer, if that’s what yer wants,” ’e said, “No thank yer, Mrs. Corker, I’m afraid nothin’ what you could do wouldn’t be no use, I think I shall ’ave to soak them,” and then blessed if ’e didn’t rush out of the front door an’ get into a cab, silver candlesticks an’ all, a laughin’ most haffable.’