eager excitement; and Aubrey, out of tone and unable to watch for the
crisis, fairly fled from the sight, rushed through the cloister door,
and threw himself with his face down upon the grass, shivering with
suspense. There he lay till a sudden burst of voices and cheers
showed that the battle was over.

The result? He could not believe eyes or ears as he opened the door,
to behold the triumphant gestures of Stoneborough, and the
crestfallen air of his own side, and heard the words, 'Folliot missed
two chances of long-leg--Ward--tremendous rush--caught him out--with
only one run to tie.'

Dr. May was shaking hands with Leonard in congratulation, not solely
generous, for let his sons be where they would, Stoneborough triumphs
were always the Doctor's, and he was not devoid of gratitude to any
one who would defeat Tom. Noting, however, the flitting colour,
fluttering breath, and trembling limbs, that showed the effect of the
day's fatigue and of the final exertion, he signed back the boys, and
thrust Leonard within the cloister door, bidding Aubrey fetch his
coat, and Ethel keep guard over him, and when he was rested and
cooled, to take him home to the High Street, where his sisters would
meet him.

'But--sir--the--supper!' gasped Leonard, leaning against the door-
post, unable to stand alone.

'I dare say. Keep him safe, Ethel.'

And the Doctor shut the door, and offered himself to appease the lads
who were clamouring for the hero of their cause; while Leonard sank