"He guessed it, I think," said Bywater, "and he taxed me with it. So I
couldn't help myself, and told him I'd take the punishment; and he said
he'd excuse us, but there was to be no locking up of Mr. Calcraft
again. I'd lay a hundred guineas the bishop went in for scrapes
himself, when he was a boy!" emphatically added Bywater. "I'll be bound
he thinks we only served the fellow right. Hurrah for the bishop!"

"Hurrah for the bishop!" shouted Hurst, with the other chorus of
voices. "Long life to him! He's made of the right sort of stuff! I say,
though, Jenkins is the worst," added Hurst, his note changing. "My
father says he doesn't know but what brain fever will come on."

"Moonshine!" laughed the boys.

"Upon my word and honour, it is not. He pitched right upon his head; it
might have cost him his life had he fallen upon the edge of the stone
step, but they think he alighted flat. My father was round with him
this morning at six o'clock."

"Does your father know about it?"

"Not he. What next?" cried Hurst. "Should I stand before him, and take
my trencher off, with a bow, and say, 'If you please, sir, it was the
college boys who served out old Ketch!' That would be a nice joke! He
said, at breakfast, this morning, that that fumbling old Ketch must
have got hold of the wrong keys. 'Of course, sir!' answered I."

"Oh, what do you think, though!" interrupted Bywater. "Ketch can't find
the keys. He put them into a knife-box, he says, and this morning they