Mr. Sandys was in great spirits, revelling in arrangements and directions.  But the wind was taken out of his sails by the two young men, who were engaged in enacting a bewildering kind of drama, a saga, of which the venerable Mr. Redmayne appeared to be the hero.  Guthrie, who was in almost overpowering spirits, took the part of Mr. Redmayne, whom he imitated with amazing fidelity.  He had become, it seemed, a man of low and degrading tastes—­’Erb Redmayne, he was called, or old ’Erb, whose role was to lead the other authorities of the college into all kinds of disreputable haunts, to prompt them to absurd misdeeds, to take advantage of their ingenuousness, to make scapegoats of them, and to adroitly evade justice himself.

On this occasion ’Erb Redmayne seemed to have inveigled the Master, whose part was taken by Jack, to a race-meeting, to be introducing him to the Most unsatisfactory company, to force him to put money on certain horses, to evade the payment of debts incurred, to be detected in the act of absconding, and to leave the unfortunate Master to bear the brunt of public indignation.  Guthrie seemed at first a little shy of enacting this drama before Howard, but Jack said reassuringly, “Oh, he won’t give us away—­it will amuse him!” This extravaganza continued with immense gusto and emphasis all the way to luncheon, ’Erb Redmayne treating the Master with undisguised contempt, and the Master performing meekly his bidding.  Mr. Sandys was in fits of laughter.  “Excellent, excellent!” he cried among his paroxysms.  “You irreverent young rascals—­but it was just the sort of thing we used to do, I am afraid!”

There was no doubt that it was amusing; in another mood Howard would have been enchanted by the performance, and even flattered at being allowed to overhear it.  Mr. Redmayne was admirably rendered, and Jack’s performance of the anxious and courteous Master, treading the primrose path reluctantly and yet subserviently, was very nearly as good.  But Howard simply could not be amused, and it made it almost worse for him to see that Maud was delighted, while even Miss Merry was obviously though timidly enjoying the enlargement of her experience, and exulting in her freedom from any priggish disapproval.

They made their way to the top and found the tower, a shell of masonry, which could be ascended by a winding staircase in a turret.  The view, from the platform at the summit, was certainly enchanting.  The tower stood in an open heathery space, with woods enclosing it on every side; from the parapet they looked down over the steeply falling tree-tops to an immense plain, where a river widened to the sea.  Howard, side by side with Maud, gazed in silence.  Mr. Sandys identified landmarks with a map.  “How nice it is to see a bit of the world!” said Maud, “and how happy and contented it all looks.  It seems odd to think of men and women down there, creeping about their work, going to and fro as usual, and not aware that they are being looked down upon like this.  It all seems a very simple business.”