once　　become　medieval。〃
  Marjory　had　evidently　recovered　much　of　her　composure。　　〃Yes；　father；　new　climates　are　alway's　supposed　to　cure　one；〃　she　remarked　with　a　kind　of　lightness。
  〃　It　isn't　so　much　the　old　expedient；〃　said　the　professor　musingly；　〃as　it　is　that　I　would　be　afraid　to　leave　you　herewith　no　protection　against　that　drinking　gambler　and　gambling　drunkard。〃
  〃　Father；　I　have　to　ask　you　not　to　use　such　terms　in　speaking　of　the　man　that　I　shall　marry。〃
  There　was　a　silence。　To　all　intents；　the　professor　remained　unmoved。　He　smote　the　tips　of　his　fingers　thoughtfully　together。　〃　Ye…es；〃　he　observed。　〃That　sounds　reasonable　from　your　standpoint。〃　His　eyes　studied　her　face　in　a　long　and　steady　glance。　He　arose　and　went　into　the　hall。　When　he　returned　he　wore　his　hat　and　great　coat。　He　took　a　book　and　some　papers　from　the　table　and　went　away。
  Marjory　walked　slowly　through　the　halls　and　up　to　her　room。　From　a　window　she　could　see　her　father　making　his　way　across　the　campus　labouriously　against　the　wind　and　whirling　snow。　She　watched　it；　this　little　black　figure；　bent　forward；　patient；　steadfast。　It　was　an　inferior　fact　that　her　father　was　one　of　the　famous　scholars　of　the　generation。　To　her；　he　was　now　a　little　old　man　facing　the　wintry　winds。　Recollect。　ing　herself　and　Rufus　Coleman　she　began　to　weep　again；　wailing　amid　the　ruins　of　her　tumbled　hopes。　Her　skies　had　turned　to　paper　and　her　trees　were　mere　bits　of　green　sponge。　But　amid　all　this　woe　appeared　the　little　black　image　of　her　father　making　its　way　against　the　storm。
  CHAPTER　II。
  IN　a　high…walled　corrider　of　one　of　the　college　buildings；　a　crowd　of　students　waited　amid　jostlings　and　a　loud　buzz　of　talk。　Suddenly　a　huge　pair　of　doors　flew　open　and　a　wedge　of　young　men　inserted　itself　boisterously　and　deeply　into　the　throng。　There　was　a　great　scuffle　attended　by　a　general　banging　of　books　upon　heads。　The　two　lower　classes　engaged　in　herculean　play　while　members　of　the　two　higher　classes；　standing　aloof；　devoted　themselves　strictly　to　the　encouragement　of　whichever　party　for　a　moment　lost　ground　or　heart。　This　was　in　order　to　prolong　the　conflict。
  The　combat；　waged　in　the　desperation　of　proudest　youth；　waxed　hot　and　hotter。　The　wedge　had　been　instantly　smitten　into　a　kind　of　block　of　men。　It　had　crumpled　into　an　irregular　square　and　on　three　sides　it　was　now　assailed　with　remarkable　ferocity。
  It　was　a　matter　of　wall　meet　wall　in　terrific　rushes；　during　which　lads　could　feel　their　very　hearts　leaving　them　in　the　compress　of　friends　and　foes。　They　on　the　outskirts　upheld　the　honour　of　their　classes　by　squeezing　into　paper　thickness　the　lungs　of　those　of　their　fellows　who　formed　the　centre　of　the　melee
  In　some　way　it　resembled　a　panic　at　a　theatre。
  The　first　lance…like　attack　of　the　Sophomores　had　been　formidable；　but　the　Freshmen　outnumbering　their　enemies　and　smarting　from　continual　Sophomoric　oppression；　had　swarmed　to　the　front　like　drilled　collegians　and　given　the　arrogant　foe　the　first　serious　check　of　the　year。　Therefore　the　tall　Gothic　windows　which　lined　one　side　of　the　corridor　looked　down　upon　as　incomprehensible　and　enjoyable　a　tumult　as　could　mark　the　steps　of　advanced　education。　The　Seniors　and　juniors　cheered　themselves　ill。　Long　freed　from　the　joy　of　such　meetings；　their　only　means　for　this　kind　of　recreation　was　to　involve　the　lower　classes；　and　they　had　never　seen　the　victims　fall　to　with　such　vigour　and　courage。　Bits　of　printed　leaves；　torn　note…books；　dismantled　collars　and　cravats；　all　floated　to　the　floor　beneath　the　feet　of　the　warring　hordes。　There　were　no　blows；　it　was　a　battle　of　pressure。　It　was　a　deadly　pushing　where　the　leaders　on　either　side　often　suffered　the　most　cruel　and　sickening　agony　caught　thus　between　phalanxes　of　shoulders　with　friend　as　well　as　foe　contributing　to　the　pain。
  Charge　after　charge　of　Freshmen　beat　upon　the　now　compact　and　organised　Sophomores。　Then；　finally；　the　rock　began　to　give　slow　way。　A　roar　came　from　the　Freshmen　and　they　hurled　themselves　in　a　frenzy　upon　their　betters。
  To　be　under　the　gaze　of　the　juniors　and　Seniors　is　to　be　in　sight　of　all　men；　and　so　the　Sophomores　at　this　important　moment　laboured　with　the　desperation　of　the　half…　doomed　to　stem　the　terrible　Freshmen。
  In　the　kind　of　game；　it　was　the　time　when　bad　tempers　came　strongly　to　the　front；　and　in　many　Sophomores'　minds　a　thought　arose　of　the　incomparable　insolence　of　the　Freshmen。　A　blow　was　struck；　an　infuriated　Sophomore　had　swung　an　arm　high　and　smote　a　Freshman。
  Although　it　had　seemed　that　no　greater　noise　could　be　made　by　the　given　numbers；　the　din　that　succeeded　this　manifestation　surpassed　everything。　The　juniors　and　Seniors　immediately　set　up　an　angry　howl。　These　veteran　classes　projected　themselves　into　the　middle　of　the　fight；　buffeting　everybody　with　small　thought　as　to　merit。　This　method　of　bringing　peace　was　as　militant　as　a　landslide；　but　they　had　much　trouble　before　they　could　separate　the　central　clump　of　antagonists　into　its　parts。　A　score　of　Freshmen　had　cried　out：　〃It　was　Coke。　Coke　punched　him。　Coke。〃　A　dozen　of　them　were　tempestuously　endeavouring　to　register　their　protest　against　fisticuffs　by　means　of　an　introduction　of　more　fisticuffs。
  The　upper　classmen　were　swift；　harsh　and　hard。　〃Come；　now；　Freshies；　quit　it。　Get　back；　get　back；　d'y'hear？〃　With　a　wrench　of　muscles　they　forced　themselves　in　front　of　Coke；　who　was　being　blindly　defended　by　his　classmates　from　intensely　earnest　　attacks　by　outraged　Freshmen。
  These　meetings　between　the　lower　classes　at　the　door　of　a　recitation　room　were　accounted　quite　comfortable　and　idle　affairs；　and　a　blow　delivered　openly　and　in　hatred　fractured　a　sharply　defined　rule　of　conduct。　The　corridor　was　in　a　hubbub。　Many　Seniors　and　Juniors；　bursting　from　old　and　iron　discipline；　wildly　clamoured　that　some　Freshman　should　be　given　the　privilege　of　a　single　encounter　with　Coke。　The　Freshmen　themselves　were　frantic。　They　besieged　the　tight　and　dauntless　circle　of　men　that　encompassed　Coke。　None　dared　confront　the　Seniors　openly；　but　by　headlong　rushes　at　auspicious　moments　they　tried　to　come　to　quarters　with　the　rings　of　dark…browed　Sophomores。　It　was　no　longer　a　festival；　a　game；　it　was　a　riot。　Coke；　wild…eyed；　pallid　with　fury；　a　ribbon　of　blood　on　his　chin；　swayed　in　the　middle　of　the　mob　of　his　classmates；　comrades　who　waived　the　ethics　of　the　blow　under　the　circumstance　of　being　obliged　as　a　corps　to　stand　against　the　scorn　of　the　whole　college；　as　well　as　against　the　tremendous　assaults　of　the　Freshmen。　Shamed　by　their　own　man；　but　knowing　full　well　the　right　time　and　the　wrong　time　for　a　palaver　of　regret　and　disavowal；　this　battalion　struggled　in　the　desperation　of　despair。　Once　they　were　upon　the　verge　of　making　unholy　campaign　against　the　interfering　Seniors。　This　fiery　　impertinence　was　the　measure　of　their　state。
  It　was　a　critical　moment　in　the　play　of　the　college。　Four　or　five　defeats　from　the　Sophomores　during　the　fall　had　taught　the　Freshmen　much。　They　had　learned　the　comparative　measurements；　and　they　knew　now　that　their　prowess　was　ripe　to　enable　them　to　amply　revenge　what　was；　according　to　their　standards；　an　execrable　deed　by　a　man　who　had　not　the　virtue　to　play　the　rough　game；　but　was　obliged　to　resort　to　uncommon　methods。　In　short；　the　Freshmen　were　almost　out　of　control；　and　the　Sophomores　debased　but　defiant；　were　quite　out　of　control。　The　Senior　and　junior　classes　which；　in　American　colleges　dictate　in　these　affrays；　found　their　dignity　toppling；　and　in　consequence　there　was　a　sudden　oncome　of　the　entire　force　of　upper　classmen　football　players　naturally　in　advance。　All　distinctions　were　dissolved　at　once　in　a　general　fracas。　The　stiff　and　still　Gothic　windows　surveyed　a　scene　of　dire　carnage。
  Suddenly　a　voice　rang　brazenly　through　the　tumult。　It　was　not　loud；　but　it　was　different。　〃　Gentlemen！　Gentlemen！'〃　Instantly　there　was　a　remarkable　number　of　haltings；　abrupt　replacements；　quick　changes。　Prof。　Wainwright　stood　at　the　door　of　his　recitation　room；　looking　into　the　eyes　of　each　member　of　the　mob　of　three　hundred。　〃Ssh！　〃　said　the　mob。　〃　Ssh！　Quit！　Stop！　It's　the　Embassador！　Stop！〃　He　had　once　　been　minister　to　Austro…Hungary；　and　forever　now　to　the　students　of　the　college　his　name　was　Embassador。　He　stepped　into　the　corridor；　and　they　cleared　for　him　a　little　respectful　zone　of　floor。　He　looked　about　him　coldly。　〃　It　seems　quite　a　general　dishevelment。　The　Sophomores　display　an　energy　in　the　halls　which　I　do　not　detect　in　the　class　room。〃　A　feeble　murmur　of　appreciation　arose　from　the　outskirts　of　the　throng。　While　he　had　been　speaking　several　remote　groups　of　battling　men　had　been　violently　signaled　and　suppressed　by　other　students。　The　professor　gazed　into　terraces　of　faces　that　were　still　inflamed。　〃　I　needn't　say　that　I　am　surprised；〃　he　remarked　in　the　accepted　rhetoric　of　his　kind。　He　added　musingly：　〃　There　seems　to　be　a　great　deal　of　torn　linen。　Who　is　the　young　gentleman　with　blood　on　his　chin？〃
  The　throng　moved　restlessly。　A　manful　silence；　such　as　might　be　in　the　tombs　of　stern　and　honourable　knights；　fell　upon　the　shadowed　corridor。　The　subdued　rustling　had　fainted　to　nothing。　Then　out　of　the　crowd　Coke；　pal