"Look here," cried I aghast, "for mercy's sake, don't show him up, Marple! It's as likely as not he's to be expelled as it is; this would finish him up." "If he's likely to be expelled, all the more reason I should get my money before he goes." "How much is it?" I gasped. "A matter of two pounds," said the tradesman. "Look here," said I, "I'll promise you shall be paid. Wait till the last day of the term, do, Marple." Mr Marple stared at me. The security I fear was not good enough for him. On the other hand, he probably knew that it would not be good for trade if he were to show up a "Low Heathen." He took an envelope from his pocket and handed it to me. It contained Tempest's bill for sundry stationery, magazines, books, postage stamps, and so on; headed "Fourth and final application." The envelope itself was addressed, "Dr England, with W. Marple's respectful compliments." The bell rang just then, and I was so anxious to get Marple off the scene that I wildly promised anything to be rid of him, and was finally left, just in time, to meet Tempest unconsciously strolling across the quadrangle on his way to keep his appointment with the doctor. CHAPTER TWENTY. DEEPEST DEPTHS. We did not see Tempest again till the afternoon. As we most of us surmised, he was relieving his feelings after his interview with the doctor by a spin on the river. How, I wondered, had the interview gone? Had he agreed to the humiliating condition of apologising to Mr Jarman, or had his pride been too much for him after all? If so, this was probably his last spin on the river. Had our house been Selkirk's, there would, no doubt, have been wagers on the event. As it was, the Philosophers contented themselves with bickering. The general impression seemed to be that he had refused to surrender. That being so, the game was up--there was no object in keeping up appearances. A spirit of defiance seemed to get hold of us. We deliberately sat on the fence of the prohibited playing fields, in the hope that Mr Jarman or some one would see us. Trimble even went to the length of crossing it at one corner. What made it more trying was the conduct of the day boys, who, with an acuteness which did them credit, seemed to have discovered our delicate situation, and resolved to make the most of it. They paraded the field about twenty yards from our fence, jeering at us openly, and daring us to set foot on the turf. "Look at them," said one, "hung up like a lot of washing on the palings. We'll make them cut. Let's have a scientific meeting. That'll clear them out." Whereupon the Urbans ranged themselves on the grass under our noses, and called upon Mr Flitwick to address them on the "Treatment of Lunatics." This was too much. We were few in number, and the palings were hard and uncomfortable. But if they thought they were going to frighten us away by this demonstration, they were mistaken.