Soon the _Insanae et Vanae_ climbed in wave after wave of melody, was caught, held, lingered in the air, softly died again.
Olva was detached--he saw his body beaten, imprisoned, tortured, killed.
But he was not there.

He was riding heaven in quest of God.
4 At the gates of his college the news met him.

He had been waiting for it so long a time that now he had to act his horror.

It seemed to him an old, old story--this tale of a murder in Sannet Wood.
Groups of men were waiting in the cloisters, waiting for the doors to open for "Hall." As Olva came towards the gates an undergraduate, white, breathless, brushed past him and burst into the quiet, murmuring groups.
"My God, have you heard ?" Olva passed through the iron gates.

The groups broke.