"Now, mind you keep cool, Ralph--keep quite cool. Don't get flustered if you cannot answer every question, and don't spend too much time over the easy ones. Answer them first, as briefly as you can, and then go for the others. Keep cool, old fellow, for the honour of the Fourth." Certainly Ralph did feel just a trifle anxious and nervous; but he had worked hard, and felt pretty well grounded in his subjects, and he meant to do his best honestly. So when prayers were over, he rose and went out of the class-room, while the boys, thinking that the occasion admitted of it, cried out aloud: "Good luck to you, Rexworth! Hope that you will succeed!" "Jolly lot of fuss they make about that chap," sneered Dobson to the boy next him. "It is just a disgrace to let such a fellow as that sit for the Newlet." "Especially when a bright, intellectual fellow like Dobson does not go in for it!" was the answer he received; and Dobson glowered and muttered something about his "cheek." Somehow, Charlton could not get on as he ought to have done that morning. He was so anxious about Ralph, and he was so full of his father, and wondering whether he was all safe. Mr. Delermain had to rebuke him once or twice--he did not understand things like Warren did--and poor Charlton lost his place and got a bad mark; and somehow he could not help it, the tears would come into his eyes. Dobson saw it, and grinned. He sniffed, and drew his handkerchief out, pretending to wipe away tears and wring the water out on the floor. Mr. Delermain saw him, and Dobson got something to cry for. Six handers, and a bad mark. Dobson vowed to make Charlton suffer for it, as if it were his fault that he had been caned. And he had his chance when recess came. "Hallo, Elgert!" cried Dobson, as he saw his friend. "I say, I want to ask you a question. Who was the first gardener?"--and he winked towards Charlton, who was standing near. "Adam," was Elgert's reply; and Dobson nodded. "Quite right; and who was the very last one that we know anything about, eh?" "A fellow named Charlton, some relation to one of your Form, I think. Quite a public personage, and eagerly sought after by the police." Poor Charlton! His face went white, and his eyes sparkled with anger. Dobson saw it, and laughed mockingly. Charlton was a weakly boy, and the bully was by no means afraid of him. "Funny how some people have queer tastes," he went on. "I should have thought that breaking stones was no harder work than digging. By the way, it is breaking stones that they put convicts to, is it not?" "You say that to insult me?" Charlton spoke in low tones, and his face was very white; and Dobson laughed again. "Oh, I say, you chaps, is not this a rich joke? Here is Charlton asking if we mean to insult him! My dear fellow, your presence is such an insult----" Dobson stopped and ducked, for the maddened boy had struck so fierce a blow that had the bully received it, it would surely have knocked him down.