Altogether this good man felt that he had much to be thankful for, and quietly wondered within himself whether, on his arrival at the "Langham" Hotel, he should find a telegram from Maxfield already awaiting him.
Instead, he found what pleased him decidedly less, a telegram from Southampton.
"Business keeps me here for a week--arrive London Friday evening.
"Ratman." The captain expressed himself to himself as greatly annoyed by this simple message, and for the rest of that evening quite lost his natural gaiety.
Next morning, however, not being a man to waste the precious hours, he decided, like a dutiful son of his _alma mater_, to take a little run to Oxford.
He had still in his pocket a certain memorandum, made long ago, of the name of a certain college at that seat of learning, at which, at a certain date, of which he had also a note, a person in whom he felt interested had been a student.

Why not improve the occasion by a few inquiries on the spot as to the academical career of that interesting person?
It was a brilliant idea, no sooner conceived than executed.
That afternoon, among a crowd of returning undergraduates at -- - College, might have been seen the well-dressed military form of a certain gentleman, who politely inquired for the senior tutor.
"I have called sir, on behalf of a friend of mine in India, to inquire respecting a Mr Frank Armstrong, who is, or was a year or two since, an undergraduate here." "Armstrong, Armstrong ?--no man of that name here at present.

Ah, I fancy we had a man here of that name some years since." "Could you conveniently inform me how long it is since he left ?" The tutor referred to his lists.
"He left three years ago.

I remember him now--well." "My friend would be extremely grateful for any information.

He has lost sight of him since he was at Oxford." "Well, the fact is Armstrong was not a particular success here.