CHAPTER II.
"There are birds out on the bushes, In the meadows lies the lamb, How I wonder if they're ever Half as frightened as I am ?" C.F.

ALEXANDER.
The night-school was drawing to a close.

The attendance had been good, and the room looked cheerful.

In one corner the Rector was teaching a group of grown-up men, who (better late than never) were zealously learning to read; in another the schoolmaster was flourishing his stick before a map as he concluded his lesson in geography.

By the fire sat Master Arthur, the Rector's son, surrounded by his class, and in front of him stood Beauty Bill.