and followed by the greater part of the House. Some lads, of a discretion beyond their years, remained quiet in their rooms. Four or five, who belonged to the older set, made haste to join the Captain by the fire. The two parties were face to face. There was a pause full of awe. To everybody, except Kerisen himself, a protest against his authority was a very grave matter. Dale was flushed and nervous, and the hand which held his papers trembled. He had consented to speak, and had spent much time in deciding what he should say, and how he should say it. He had looked out passages in his favourite authors, and rehearsed some telling sentences of his own. He was determined that the good cause should not suffer from his advocacy: he was not without hope that his first effort as an orator would be a conspicuous success. He had the making of a great speech in his head, and he remembered Barbaroux. He had decided that he would begin with the simple word "Gentlemen;" but as he was on the point of opening his lips, Kerisen turned on him a glance in which amusement and weariness were so strangely blended, that the orator faltered. Harefel, who disapproved of the whole thing, but could not bear to see his cousin fail, pressed his arm for encourage

ment; Aubrey, who was burning for a row, called out, "Speak up, old man ;" and Dale, fired anew by the ostentatious scorn of Loyd, who was leaning against the mantelpiece with his chest stuck out, and his back to the obnoxious rules, plunged headlong into his subject.

Instead of the premeditated commencement, he stumbled into his speech with the words, "Look here, you know;" and the great oration, which was to have been, only turned up in fragments among some rather commonplace expressions. "Look here, you know," he said, "I-I mean these fellows want me to say something about these new library rules. We don't like Rule V." Here he paused to collect his ideas, and Loyd laughed. "And we won't have Rule V.," cried the orator, hotly. At this display of warmth his supporters cheered, and he went on more glibly. "We don't see what right one fellow, or two fellows, or six fellows, have to make rules which are binding on all. No rule should be binding which is not carried by a majority of the House, and-and we ought to elect the library committee. That's what we think."

"Bravo!" shouted Aubrey, and the small boys cheered. Thereupon the orator felt a glow, and, as some fine phrases came back to him, he rose to a

higher level. "It is all contrary to the rights of Englishmen to the rights of Man."

sneer.

"The rights of Boy," suggested Kerisen, politely. "Well? And why should not we have our rights? If we are to be free at twenty-one, are we to be slaves at twenty? It is the principle I care for. You six fellows make yourselves a government, and make laws for the library, which belongs to us all. It is a gross violation of liberty, of all which makes this country great and this school great-yes, it is. It is a violation of the-of the oh yes, Kerisen, it is all very well for you to We all know that you don't care about it, or about anything else. I will be personal. Do you think that I am afraid of your Rule V., of being kept in order by any means which seem good to any member of the library committee'?" He paused for breath, and there was a hum of applause. "We won't be bullied. We won't be sat upon by any great big muscular-oh, I am not afraid, Loyd. Hit me, and show what tyranny is. There will come a day when liberty shall be no longer a name in this place, but a glorious reality."

"

Every boy his own master," observed Kerisen, as the demagogue halted in his speech.

"Yes, there will. In spite of any languid despot-I don't care, Harefel. I will tell these fellows what I think. I won't be silenced."

Come, come," said the Captain, quietly, "tell us what you want, and don't jaw about it." He yawned, and turned again to his paper.

"I want," said the orator, rather dashed by the despot's coolness-"I want the library committee chosen by the whole House. And I And I say that those rules must be taken down, because they were made by you, and nobody elected you."

Loyd had been growing very angry during the progress of this speech. This method of demanding change seemed to him a monstrous novelty, and full of unimagined perils. He had a great respect for order, and none for rhetoric. That fellows in fifth form should head a rebellion of lower boys was bad enough; that one of them should make a speech was unpardonable. He could more easily forgive the personal allusion to his muscles, of which he was somewhat proud, than this spouting, which seemed to fill the library with the atmosphere of a demagogue's tavern. At one point of the oration he had stepped forward with the half-formed purpose of stopping the speaker's mouth by flinging him out of window; but Keri

sen had checked him by touching him with the foot which he was lazily swinging. Nevertheless, Loyd could not imitate his friend's coolness; and feeling that his power lay rather in deeds than words, he broke the pause which followed Dale's speech by the short question, "Who's going to take down the rules?" He planted his back against the paper, squared his shoulders, and shook his head like a bull. Dale made a short step forward, trembling with excitement, and with nerves shaken by the animal strength before him. As he hesitated, Aubrey and Harefel both sprang forward. The former in his eagerness fell over Kerisen's leg, which was languidly, but perhaps intentionally, obtruded. The latter, who fervently wished that the row was over, but who would not have his cousin's courage doubted, stepped forward, flushed but resolute, and stretching his arm up over Loyd's shoulder, laid his hand on the paper of rules. As he did so, the big fellow struck him with his open hand a sounding blow on the side of the head. The boy went headlong over a chair, tearing down the rules as he fell. There was a shout of triumph, and a cry of "Shame!" In an instant Dale had darted forward like a tiger, and struck Loyd with all his force on the cheek. The fist glanced off