“That is the very point I was about to touch upon,” rejoined Norman, in no way discomposed: “the Doctor not approving of the younger boys being out at night, thought himself obliged to give a general order to the whole school; but at the same time he contrived to have it hinted privately to _us_, that if the elder members of the sixth form chose to go, he should not make any inquiries about it; the only point he insisted on being, that such an expedition must be managed privately, and without his being supposed to know anything about it. Now in order to contrive this, we had thought of making our way in at night (we can easily get out unobserved after five o’clock school), through the window in the loft; but, as you say, and as I now remember, it is too small to render that possible,--we want you to get through the sky-light into the school-room (as we were talking about this morning), and unfasten the little door which opens into the playground; it is only secured by one bolt, which is not above your reach, so you can easily undo it. If you will undertake this, and promise faithfully not to breathe a word about it to anybody, you shall go with us to the play.” Poor Hugh was sorely puzzled; and his sense of right and wrong entirely confused; one idea, however, soon extricating itself from the chaos, he immediately gave it utterance. “The Doctor,” he said, “will be angry with _me_, sir, though he may not be so with you, for I am only a little fellow, and a long way off the sixth form.” Norman hesitated; he knew that if they were discovered he should be quite unable to protect the child from punishment, and a sense of self-respect made him adverse to pledge himself to anything which he could not perform. Biggington was trammelled by no such scruples. “Never fear, young’un,” he said; “if the Doctor should by any chance speak to you on the subject, just refer, him quietly to me; merely say,--Biggington desired me to go; Biggington will explain everything;--and you’ll have no more trouble from the Doctor. Don’t you think so, Stradwick?” “Oh! certainly,” was the reply: “refer him to Biggington, by all means; say--Biggington desired me to go; Biggington will----” “That will do,” interrupted Terry, grinning. “Shut up, Slow-coach, we didn’t _encore_ the sentiment; moreover, I can perceive by the expression of our young friend’s optics, that he is awake to a sense of his sitiwation. The play, a jolly good supper, and immortal honour and renown on one hand; and an awful thrashing from Biggington, with a gentle refresher from myself appended, on the other; between such a Scylla and Charybdis he will hardly be inclined to forestall Jack Sprattly by singing, ‘How happy could I be with either.’ So now, young’un, favour us with your sentiments.” “If I might but tell Percy!” pleaded Hugh, glancing appealingly towards Norman. That individual shook his head.