I sat a little while silent after I heard them tell of it. I was as much stunned as they--and sickened too. I had thought all that sort of thing was done with. I had hoped it was all past, even forgotten--and here it was, leaping up again to confront, to threaten, to jeer at us. I had only dimly imagined the possibility of it. I had no plan, no hint of how I should go about it. Two years ago, if this had happened, I should not have cared one way or the other. I should have crawled away into a corner and buried my face to hide my fear's approach. I should have waited to see how others acted, how others fought--and then, at best I should have fought along in a half-hearted, half-dreading fashion. Even now, I had nothing to fight for. I knew what Judaism was--and that it was for the God and the people of Judaism that I should be making my little fight--but-- I turned about and saw the eyes of the two freshmen glued upon me. Frank's especially--and they were beginning to fill with a troubled distrust which I had never allowed to be there before. I could not fail Frank. I would do what I could. "All right," I said, drawing on my coat. "Go ahead home and get to bed. I will see what I can do." I went with them across the campus to the other freshman's room. Frank would sleep there for the night, though he usually went back to his parents. I think he did not have the heart tonight to face them, and when they asked their usual breathless questions of the day's work and play, lie to them and hide from them the galling incident. He did not seem to feel the insult for his own sake; he was thinking, rather, of his mother and of how she would feel, should she ever know. "Good night," said the other freshman soberly. "Good night," said Frank--and I felt in his voice all of the cheery obligation of friendship. He was expecting wonders of me. Walking on alone, across the open gloominess of deserted paths and night winds in the shrubbery, a thousand foolish fears tramped by my side and sang into my ears. I had hidden my empty spirit from those two boys--but I could not hide it from myself. I wondered what sort of a fight was ahead of me, and how long it would last, and what would be the final result. Those two men, Sayer and Braley, were among the most influential of the class. They were members of my senior society. They could hold me down by sentimental ties of brotherhood, much as Trevelyan had been held down by his fraternity mates; failing that, they could use their popularity, their clinch upon college opinion to force me literally into silence. They could run me out of college, if they pleased. I knew this, did not deny it to myself as I went forward to the first skirmish. Once I turned around and almost retreated to my rooms. But the remembrance of the sting that was in Frank's reproachful look would not let me do that.