"Not a day passes, but he sets upon us with his tongue. He would keep
us out of the cloisters; he would keep us out of our own schoolroom. He
goes to the head-master with the most unfounded cram--stories, and when
the master declines to notice them (for he knows Ketch of old), then he
goes presumingly to the dean. If he let us alone, we should let him
alone. I am not speaking this in the light of a complaint to your
lordship," Bywater added, throwing his head back. "I don't want to get
him into a row, tyrant though he is; and the college boys can hold
their own against Ketch."

"I expect they can," significantly replied the bishop. "He would keep
you out of the cloisters, would he?"

"He is aiming at it," returned Bywater. "There never would have been a
word said about our playing there, but for him. If the dean shuts us
out, it will be Ketch's doings. The college boys have played in the
cloisters since the school was founded."

"He would keep you out of the cloisters; so, by way of retaliation, you
lock him into them--an uncomfortable place of abode for a night,
Bywater."

"My lord!" cried Bywater.

"Sir!" responded his lordship.

"Does your lordship think it was I who played that trick on Ketch?"

"Yes, I do--speaking of you conjointly with the school."