“What a capital fellow he is,” continued Montagu, leaning on his racquet and looking after him, as Russell left the court; “but I say, Williams, you’re not going too, are you?”

“I think I must, I don’t know half my lesson.”

“O no! don’t go; there’s Llewellyn; he’ll take Russell’s place, and we must have the conquering game.”

Again Eric yielded; and when the clock struck he ran into school, hot, vexed with himself, and certain to break down, just as Russell strolled in, whispering, “I’ve had lots of time to get up the Horace, and know it pat.”

Still he clung to the little thistledown of hope that he should have plenty of time to cram it before the form were called up.  But another temptation awaited him.  No sooner was he seated than Graham whispered, “Williams, it’s your turn to write out the Horace; I did last time, you know.”

Poor Eric.  He was reaping the fruits of his desire to keep up popularity, by never denying his complicity in the general cheating.  Everybody seemed to assume now that he at any rate didn’t think much of it, and he had never claimed his real right up to that time of asserting his innocence.  But this was a step further than he had ever gone before.  He drew back—­

“My turn, what do you mean?”

“Why, you know as well as I do that we all write it out by turns.”

“Do you mean to say that Owen or Russell ever wrote it out?”

“Of course not; you wouldn’t expect the saints to be guilty of such a thing, would you?”

“I’d rather not, Graham,” he said, getting very red.

“Well, that is cowardly,” answered Graham, angrily; “then I suppose I must do it myself.”

“Here, I’ll do it,” said Eric suddenly; “shy us the paper.”

His conscience smote him bitterly.  In his silly dread of giving offence, he was doing what he heartily despised, and he felt most uncomfortable.

“There,” he said, pushing the paper from him in a pet; “I’ve written it, and I’ll have nothing more to do with it.”

Just as he finished they were called up, and Barker, taking the paper, succeeded in pinning it as usual on the front of the desk.  Eric had never seen it done so carelessly and clumsily before, and firmly believed, what was indeed a fact, that Barker had done it badly on purpose, in the hope that it might be discovered, and so Eric be got once more into a scrape.  He was in an agony of apprehension, and when put on, was totally unable to say a word of his Rep.  But low as he had fallen, he would not cheat like the rest; he kept his eyes resolutely turned away from the guilty paper, and even refused to repeat the words which were prompted in his ear by the boys on each side.  Mr. Gordon, after waiting a moment, said—­

“Why, Sir, you know nothing about it; you can’t have looked at it.  Go to the bottom and write it out five times.”

“Write it out” thought Eric; “this is retribution, I suppose;” and covered with shame and vexation, he took his place below the malicious Barker at the bottom of the form.