'D?' D stands for that bad sperit as is too near to you college boys;
he's among you always, like a ranging lion. It's like your impedence to
call me by his name."

"My dear Mr. Ketch! call _you_ by his name! I never thought of such a
thing," politely retorted Bywater. "You are not promoted to that honour
yet. D.H., stands for Deputy-Hangman. Isn't it affixed to the cathedral
roll, kept amid the archives in the chapter-house"--John Ketch, D.H.,
porter to the cloisters! "I hope you don't omit the distinguishing
initials when you sign your letters?"

Ketch foamed. Bywater danced. The former could not find words. The
latter found plenty.

"I say, though, Mr. Calcraft, don't you make a similar mistake when you
are going on public duty. If you were to go _there_, dreaming you had
the right apparatus, and find, in the last moment, that you had brought
the wrong, you don't know what the consequences might be. The real
victim might escape, rescued by the enraged crowd, and they might put
the nightcap upon you, and operate upon you instead! So, be careful. We
couldn't afford to lose you. Only think, what a lot of money it would
cost to put the college into mourning!"

Ketch gave a great gasp of agony, threw an iron ladle at his tormentor,
which, falling short of its aim, came clanking down on the red-brick
floor, and banged the door in Bywater's face. Bywater withdrew to a
short distance, under cover of the cathedral wall, and bent his body
backwards and forwards with the violence of his laughter, unconscious
that the Bishop of Helstonleigh was standing near him, surveying him
with an exceedingly amused expression. His lordship had been an