--is this closed, too?" he asked.

"And time, sir," said the man. "They'd ha' broken down all
the shrubs in the place if orders hadn't been given! They
were mad to see where the gentleman fell--came in crowds at
dinnertime."

Bryce nodded, and was turning away, when Dick Bewery came
round a corner from the Deanery Walk, evidently keenly
excited. With him was a girl of about his own age--a certain
characterful young lady whom Bryce knew as Betty Campany,
daughter of the librarian to the Dean and Chapter and
therefore custodian of one of the most famous cathedral
libraries in the country. She, too, was apparently brimming
with excitement, and her pretty and vivacious face puckered
itself into a frown as the policeman smiled and shook his
head.

"Oh, I say, what's that for?" exclaimed Dick Bewery. "Shut
up?--what a lot of rot! I say!--can't you let us go in--just
for a minute?"

"Not for a pension, sir!" answered the policeman
good-naturedly. "Don't you see the notice? The Dean 'ud
have me out of the force by tomorrow if I disobeyed orders.
No admittance, nowhere, nohow! But lor' bless yer!" he
added, glancing at the two young people. "There's nothing to
see--nothing!--as Dr. Bryce there can tell you."

Dick, who knew nothing of the recent passages between his