sloping bank, some fifteen feet deep, and on the other by the precipice leading to the next terrace. At the far end of the ground stood the pavilion, and beside it a little ivy-covered rabbit-hutch for the scorers. Old Wrykynians always claimed that it was the prettiest school ground in England. It certainly had the finest view. From the verandah of the pavilion you could look over three counties.
Wain's house wore an empty and desolate appearance. There were signs of activity, however, inside; and a smell of soap and warm water told of preparations recently completed.
Wyatt took Mike into the matron's room, a small room opening out of the main passage.
"This is Jackson," he said. "Which dormitory is he in, Miss Payne?"
The matron consulted a paper.
"He's in yours, Wyatt."
"Good business. Who's in the other bed? There are going to be three of us, aren't there?"
"Fereira was to have slept there, but we have just heard that he is not coming back this term. He has had to go on a sea-voyage for his health."
"Seems queer any one actually taking the trouble to keep Fereira in the world," said Wyatt. "I've often thought of giving him Rough On Rats myself. Come along, Jackson, and I'll show you the room."
They went along the passage, and up a flight of stairs.
"Here you are," said Wyatt.
It was a fair-sized room. The window, heavily barred, looked out over a large garden.
"I used to sleep here alone last term," said Wyatt, "but the house is so full now they've turned it into a dormitory."
"I say, I wish these bars weren't here. It would be rather a rag to get out of the window on to that wall at night, and hop down into the garden and explore," said Mike.
