He paused. I said I thought so, too. 'You are an Oxford man, Mr Burns, I think you told me? Ah, I have your letter here. Just so. You were at--ah, yes. A fine college. The Dean is a lifelong friend of mine. Perhaps you knew my late pupil, Lord Rollo?--no, he would have been since your time. A delightful boy. Quite delightful ... And you took your degree? Exactly. _And_ represented the university at both cricket and Rugby football? Excellent. _Mens sana in_--ah--_corpore_, in fact, _sano_, yes!' He folded the letter carefully and replaced it in his pocket. 'Your primary object in coming to me, Mr Burns, is, I gather, to learn the--ah--the ropes, the business? You have had little or no previous experience of school-mastering?' 'None whatever.' 'Then your best plan would undoubtedly be to consider yourself and work for a time simply as an ordinary assistant-master. You would thus get a sound knowledge of the intricacies of the profession which would stand you in good stead when you decide to set up your own school. School-mastering is a profession, which cannot be taught adequately except in practice. "Only those who--ah--brave its dangers comprehend its mystery." Yes, I would certainly recommend you to begin at the foot of the ladder and go, at least for a time, through the mill.' 'Certainly,' I said. 'Of course.' My ready acquiescence pleased him. I could see that he was relieved. I think he had expected me to jib at the prospect of actual work. 'As it happens,' he said, 'my classical master left me at the end of last term. I was about to go to the Agency for a successor when your letter arrived. Would you consider--' I had to think this over. Feeling kindly disposed towards Mr Arnold Abney, I wished to do him as little harm as possible. I was going to rob him of a boy, who, while no moulding of his growing mind could make him into a hereditary legislator, did undoubtedly represent a portion of Mr Abney's annual income; and I did not want to increase my offence by being a useless assistant-master. Then I reflected that, if I was no Jowett, at least I knew enough Latin and Greek to teach the rudiments of those languages to small boys. My conscience was satisfied. 'I should be delighted,' I said. 'Excellent. Then let us consider that as--ah--settled,' said Mr Abney. There was a pause. My companion began to fiddle a little uncomfortably with an ash-tray. I wondered what was the matter, and then it came to me. We were about to become sordid. The discussion of terms was upon us. And as I realized this, I saw simultaneously how I could throw one more sop to my exigent conscience. After all, the whole thing was really a question of hard cash. By kidnapping Ogden I should be taking money from Mr Abney. By paying my premium I should be giving it back to him.