notice. Delighted with the discovery, he launched out into a short lecture on the subject generally, citing all the examples he had already got in his book, and comparing them with other forms of construction to be found scattered through the entire range of Latin classical literature.
How Parson and Telson enjoyed that lecture! They listened to it with rapt attention with hearts full of gratitude and faces full of sympathy. They did not understand a word of it, but a chapter out of "Midshipman Easy" could not have delighted them more; and when they saw that the clock had slowly worked round from nine to ten they would not have interrupted it for the world.
"Ah!" said Mr Warton, taking out his watch, "I see time's up. We've had more Syntax than Caesar to-day. Never mind, it's a point worth remarking, and sure to be useful as you get on in Latin. The class is dismissed."
Little he knew the joy his words carried to two small hearts in his audience.
"Jolly good luck that!" said Parson, as he strolled out into the passage arm-in-arm with his friend. "Now if I can only get those beastly verbs done before Coates asks for them! I say, Telson, do you know the dodge for sticking three nibs on one pen and writing three lines all at one time?"
"Tried it once," said Telson, "but it didn't pay. It took longer to keep sticking them in when they fell out, and measuring them to write on the lines, than to write the thing twice over the ordinary way. I'll write out part, old man."
"Thanks, Telson, you're an awful brick. I suppose Riddell wouldn't think it wicked of you to write another fellow's impot, would he?"
"I half fancy he would; but I won't tell him. Hullo! though, here comes Coates."
A monitor wearing his "mortar-board" approached.
"Where's your imposition, Parson?" he asked.
"I'm awfully sorry," said Parson, "but it's not quite done yet, Coates."
"How much is done?" demanded Coates.
"Not any yet," said Parson, with some confusion. "I was just going to begin. Wasn't I, Telson?"
"Won't do," said Coates; "you were up the river this morning, I saw you. If you can go up the river you can do your impositions. Better come with me to the captain."
Coming with a monitor to the captain meant something unpleasant. The discipline of Willoughby, particularly in outside matters, was left almost entirely in the hands of the monitors, who with the captain, their head, were responsible as a body to the head master for the order of the school. It was very rarely that a case had to go beyond the monitors, whose authority was usually sufficient to enable them to deal summarily with all ordinary offenders.
It was by no means the first time that Parson, who was reputed by almost every one but himself and Telson to be an incorrigible scamp, had been haled away to this awful tribunal, and he was half regretting that he had not met his fate over the Caesar after all, and so escaped his present position, when another monitor appeared down the passage and met them. It was Ashley.
"Hullo! Coates," said he, "I wish you'd come to my study and help me choose half a dozen trout-flies, there's a good fellow. I've had a book up from the town, and I don't know which are the best to use."
"All serene," said Coates, "I'll be there directly. I'm just going to take this youngster to the captain."
"Who is the captain?" said Ashley. "Wyndham's gone, and no one's been named yet that I know of. I suppose it's Bloomfield."
"Eh? I never thought of that. No, I expect it'll be a schoolhouse fellow. Always is, isn't it. Parson, you can go. Bring me twelve French verbs written out to my study before chapel to-morrow. Come on, Ashley."
And Parson departed, consoled in spirit, to announce to Telson and the lower school generally that Willoughby was at present without a captain.
CHAPTER THREE.
THE VACANT CAPTAINCY.
Who was to be the new captain of Willoughby? This was a question it had occurred to only a very few to ask until Wyndham had finally quitted the school. Fellows had grown so used to the old order of things, which had continued now for two years, that the possibility of their bowing to any other chief than "Old Wynd" had scarcely crossed their minds. But the question being once asked, it became very interesting indeed.
The captains of Willoughby had been by long tradition what is known as "all-round men." There was something in the air of the place that seemed specially favourable to the development of muscle and classical proficiency at the same time, and the consequence was that the last three heads of the school had combined in one person the senior classic and the captains of
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