you against the best."

But later, when the young men were resting, each under his sheet
after a rub-down, the true significance of the affair for Orde came
out. Since the fight, Gerald's customary lassitude of manner seemed
quite to have left him. His eye was bright, a colour mounted
beneath the pale olive of his skin, the almost effeminate beauty of
his countenance had animated. He looked across at Orde several
times, hesitated, and at last decided to speak.

"Look here, Orde," said he, "I want to confess something to you.
When you first came here three days ago, I had lots of fun with
myself about you. You know your clothes aren't quite the thing, and
I thought your manner was queer, and all that. I was a cad. I want
to apologise. You're a man, and I like you better than any fellow
I've met for a long time. And if there's any trouble--in the
future--that is--oh, hang it, I'm on your side--you know what I
mean!"

Orde smiled slowly.

"Bishop," was his unexpected reply, "you're not near so much of a
dandy as you think you are."



XVIII


Affairs went thus for a week. Orde was much at the Bishop