Hickey hesitated with a calculating glance at the already snickering class. Then forced to carry through the bravado, he climbed over the legs of his seat-mates and up to the platform, made Mr. Dater a deep bow, and gave the class a quick bob of his head, accompanied by a confidential wink from that eye which happened to be out of the master's scrutiny. He glanced down, shook the wrinkles from his trousers, buttoned his coat, shot his cuffs and assumed the recognised Websterian attitude. Twice he cleared his throat while the class waited expectantly for the eloquence that did not surge. Next he frowned, took one step forward and two back, sunk his hands in his trousers and searched for the missing sentences on the moulding that ran around the edge of the ceiling. "Well, Hicks, what's wrong?" said the master with difficult seriousness. "Haven't learned it?" "Oh, yes, sir," said Hickey with dignity. "What's the matter then?" "Please, sir," said Hickey, with innocent frankness, "I'm afraid I'm a little embarrassed." The class guffawed loud and long. The idea of Hickey succumbing to such an emotion was irresistible. Shrimp Davis sobbed hysterically and gratefully. Hickey alone remained solemn, grieved and misunderstood. "Well, Hicks," continued the master with the ghost of a smile, "embarrassment is something that you should try to overcome." At this Turkey Reiter led Shrimp Davis out in agony. "Very well," said Hickey with an injured look, "I'll try, sir. I'll do my best. But I don't think the conditions are favourable." Mr. Dater commanded silence. Hickey bowed again and raised his head cloaked in seriousness. A titter acclaimed him. He stopped and looked appealingly at the master. "Go on, Hicks, go on," said Mr. Dater. "Do your best. At least, let us hear the words." Another inspiration came to Hickey. "I don't think that this is quite regular, sir," he said aggressively. "I have always taken an interest in my work, and I don't see why I should be made to sacrifice a good mark." Mr. Dater bit his lips and quieted the storm with two upraised fingers. "Nevertheless, Hicks," he said, "I think we shall allow you to continue." "What!" exclaimed Hickey as though loath to credit his ears. Then adding calm to dignity, he said, "Very well, sir,--not prepared!" With the limp of a martyr, he turned his back on Mr. Dater, and returned to his seat, where he sat in injured dignity, disdaining to notice the grimaces of his companions. Class over, the master summoned Hicks, and bent his brows, boring him with a look of inquisitorial accusation. "Hicks," he said, spacing his words, "I have felt, for the last two weeks, a certain lack of discipline here. Just a word to the wise, Hicks, just a word to _the wise_!" Hickey was pained. Where was the evidence to warrant such a flat accusation? He had been arraigned on suspicion, that was all, absolutely on mere haphazard suspicion. And this was justice?