As Frederick Travers, with his two lady companions, appeared within the walls, the murmur of their names ran through the crowd of gownsmen, already assembled in the court; for although by College time, it still wanted fifteen minutes of the hour, a considerable number of students were gathered together, anxious to hear the result of the day. The simple but massive style of the buildings; the sudden change from the tumult and noise of a crowded city, to the silence and quietude of these spacious quadrangles, the number of youths dressed in their University costume, and either gazing wistfully, at the door of the Examination Hall, or conversing eagerly together, were all matters of curious interest to the Travers' party, who saw themselves in a world so different from that they daily moved in. Nor were the loungers the students only; mixed up with them, here and there, might be seen, some of the leading barristers of the day, and one or two of the most distinguished members of the House of Commons—men, who themselves had tasted the sweets of College success, and were fain, even by a passing moment, to refresh the memory of youthful triumphs, and bring back, by the sight of familiar objects, the recollection of days, to which all the glories of after-life, are but poor in comparison. Many of these were recognized by the students, and saluted by them, with marks of profound respect; and one, a small mean-looking man with jet black eyes, and olive complexion, was received with a cheer, which was with difficulty arrested by a waving motion with his hand, and a gesture towards the door of the “Hall,” from which with a hollow cavernous sound, a heavy bolt was now drawn, and the wide portal opened. A general movement in the crowd showed how intense expectation then was, but it was destined to a further trial, for it was only the head porter dressed in his crimson robe, and carrying his cap at arms length before him, who, followed by the Provost, issued forth; the students removed their caps, and stood in respectful silence as he passed. Again the door was closed, and all was still.
“There is something in all this, that stimulates curiosity strongly,” said Kate; “when I came in here, I could have waited patiently for an hour or two, but now, the sight of all these anxious faces, these prying looks, that seem eager to pierce the very door itself; those short sentences, broken by quick glances at the clock, have worked me up to an excitement high and fevered as their own.”
“It wants but a minute now,” said Fred.
“I think the hand has not moved, for the last ten,” said Sybella, smiling faintly.
“I hope he has gained the prize,” muttered Kate, below her breath; and at the moment, the bell tolled, and the wide doors, as if burst open by the sound, were flung wide, and the human tide poured forth, and mingled with that beneath; but what a different aspect did it present. The faces were mostly flushed and heated, the eyes flashing, the dress disordered, the cravats awry, the hair tangled—all the signs of mental excitement, long and arduously sustained, were there, and save a few whose careless look and unmoved expression showed that their part had no high ambition at stake, all were impressed with the same character of mingled eagerness and exhaustion.
Many among these were quickly singled out and surrounded by troops of eager and anxious friends, and the passing stranger might easily read in the tone and accent of the speaker his fortune, whether good or evil.
“Where is Herbert?—where can he be?—I don't see him,” said each of the Travers' party, as, mingling with the crowd, they cast their anxious looks on every side; but amid the bustle of the scene, the hurrying forms, and the babble of tongues, they felt bewildered and confused.
“Let us try at his chambers,” said Frederick; “he will, in all likelihood, be there soon,” and at once they turned their steps towards the corner of the old square near the library, where Herbert lived his solitary life; for although nominally linked with a companion—a chum, in College parlance—he rarely made his appearance within the walls, and then only for a few days at a time.
When they reached the door, they found it open, and without further waiting, or any notice of their approach, they entered, but so noiselessly and quietly withal, that the deep accents of grief—the heavy sound of broken sobs—struck at once upon their ears. They stopped and gazed in silence at each other, reading, as it were, their own heartfelt fears in the face of each.
“Poor fellow,” said Kate, as her proud lip trembled with agitation. “This is a sad beginning.”