When he and Mr. Dare went out, Mr. Ashley followed them to the outer gate. As they stood there talking, Frank Halliburton passed. "Look here," thought the sergeant to himself, "there's not much doubt as to the black sheep—I see that: but it's as well, to be on the sure side. Young man," cried he aloud to Frank, in the authoritative, patronizing manner which Sergeant Delves was fond of assuming when he could, "what time did your brother William get home last Saturday night? I suppose you know, if you were at home yourself."
Frank looked at him rather haughtily. "I know," he replied. "I have yet to learn why you need know."
"Tell him, Frank," said Mr. Ashley, with a smile.
"It was a little after ten," said Frank.
"Did he go out again?" asked the sergeant.
"Out again at that time!" cried Frank. "No: he did not go out again. We sat talking together ever so long, and then went up to bed."
"Ah!" rejoined the sergeant. It was all he answered. And he wished Mr. Ashley good day, and departed with Mr. Dare.
"I am going to Oxford at Easter, Mr. Ashley," cried Frank with animation.
"I am pleased to hear it."
"But only as a servitor. I don't mind," he added, throwing back his head with pardonable pride. "Let me once get a start, and I hope to rise above some who go there as gentlemen-commoners. I intend to make this my circuit," he went on, half jokingly, half seriously.