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He was silent, and answered in monosyllables, so the walk
was provokingly dull. At last they reached Fort Island, and sat down by
the ruined chapel looking on the sea.
"Why what's the row with you, old boy," said Montagu, playfully shaking
Eric by the shoulder, "you're as silent as Zimmerman on Solitude, and as
doleful as Harvey on the Tombs. I expect you've been going through a
select course of Blair's Grave, Young's Night Thoughts, and Drelincourt
on Death."
To his surprise Eric's head was still bent, and, at last, he heard a
deep suppressed sigh.
"My dear child, what is the matter with you?" said Russell,
affectionately taking his hand, "surely you're not offended at my
nonsense?"
Eric had not liked to speak while Montagu was by, but now he gulped down
his rising emotion, and briefly told them of Bull's vile words the night
before. They listened in silence.
"I knew it must come, Eric," said Russell at last, "and I am so sorry
you didn't speak at the time."
"Do the fellows ever talk in that way in either of your dormitories?"
asked Eric.


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