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 the fellows armed with hymn-books and chatting merrily in their places at table. That small boy was a big fellow at the Sixth Form table now, and the chat was more animated but less merry than it had seemed to Jan then. Something was in the air already. Could it have leaked out before the sword descended? No; it must be something else. Everybody was eager to tell him about it, as he repeated ancient history by coming in almost last.

"Have you heard about Devereux?"

"Have you heard, Rutter?"

"Haven't you heard?"

His heart missed a beat.

"No. What?"

"He's down with measles!"

"That all!" exclaimed Jan, tingling with returning animation.

If his own downfall had been in vain!

"It's bad enough," said the big fellow who had stood sentinel four years ago. "They say he must have had them on him when he was in, and the whole thing may make him jolly bad."

"Who says so?"

"Morgan; he's just heard it." Poverty of detail was eked out by fertile speculation. Jan was hardly listening; he could not help considering how far this new catastrophe would affect himself. Evan was as strong as a horse, and that moreover with the strength which had never been outgrown; besides, he would have his magnificent century to look back upon from his pillow. That was enough to see anybody through anything. And now there would be no fear of mental complication, no question of his coming forward and owning up: for who was going to carry a school scandal