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man, bolder than the rest. “It needed a man to kill him and that the

man is a parson gives me a better opinion of the Church.”

At this the crowd cheered the more widely.

“Come, Tony,” whispered Syn, taking his friend’s arm and hurrying him

along. “Would I were free of this and of the whole damne d business.”

But the crowd were not to be robbed of their triumph against a man

they hated. They had most of them witnessed the behaviour of the Iffley

Squire in St. Giles’ the day before, and to them Doctor Syn was a hero

who deserved the fullest acclaim. And so they followed him and cheered

him to the gates of Queen’s, where their wild enthusiasm roused the

porter before Doctor Syn was able to unlock the gates himself.

“You are a hero, Christopher,” said Tony, as they passed the gates.

“And you well deserve it for your courage of last night. And remember

this. The more popular you are in the public opinion, the more sympathy

you will get from the coroner’s court, and from the University itself.

You may be sure of the students as of the crowds in St. Giles’ fair.

Yes, I think you will come out of this with honour.”

“The whole thing is such a damnable lie,” grumbled the Doctor.

“But you have saved Sommers,” comforted Tony. “And though you did not

actually kill the scoundrel, you might have done twenty times last

night. By gad, old friend, I begin to think that your cloth is a

mistake. You fight too well to waste such talent. Let us pray that they

do unfrock you, and then you can lead a regiment in the wars. Come

along; a little breakfast will m ake you take a more cheerful view of it.

I wonder how many innocent lives you have saved from ruin by dealing

with this bully. Let that thought comfort you.”

As they anticipated, the news of Bully Tappitt’s death spread like a

raging fire through Oxfo rd. That he had fallen in a duel which he had

instigated appealed also to everyone’s sense of justice. Long before

Nicholas Tappitt arrived in his coach to take Cobtree with him to the

Mayor, congratulations were pouring in to the young Doctor of Queen’s.

That the Bully had fallen at

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the hands of a parson was choice news indeed, and Doctor Syn was

accordingly lionized. When at last the Iffley coach approached the

College, the way was blocked with carriages and chairs of every

description, while the great courtyard and the stairs leading to the

Doctor’s chambers were filled with the best rank and fashion of the

town, all eager and determined to shake the parson’s hand and hear the

delightful details from his own lips. The unfortunate young Doctor,

suffering as he was from lack of sleep and exhaustion, never knew that

he had so many friends and admirers. That the parson won the hand of a

rich and beautiful Spanish girl who was visiting the town gave him an

additional luster, since the news leaked out that this same beauty had

been the cause of the duel. The College servants, unable to cope with

such a fashionable crowd or deny them entrance, were swept aside, while

the fine folk invaded the parson’s chamber and fawned upon him through

their quizzing-glasses.

The only comfort Doctor Syn derived from all this was the security of

public opinion, so that should the Authorities take too stern a view

they would be risking their own popularity.

While Tony was wondering how best to effect his meeting with Nicholas

Tappitt, since the way was so blocked, he heard that gentleman’s voice

upon the stairs, boldly announcing himself as “Captain Nicholas Tappitt,

nephew and heir to the deceased,” and that he had come on urgent

business concerning the affair on the authority of the Mayor of Oxford.

Knowing the reputation of the Tappitt family, and noting his swaggering

demeanor, the dandies of the town made way for him. He pushed his way

into Syn’s study and bowed low.

“I am come to escort Mr. Cobtree, who acted as your second, sir, in

the affair with my unfortunate uncle, to the Town Hall. I have also the

honour to bring you a message from the Senorita Almago, who would be

glad to see you at your earliest convenience at White Friars.” He then

turned to the ladies and gentlemen who had invaded the room. “As friends

and admirers of Doctor Syn, ladies and gentlemen, I should like to state

most emphatically that although naturally deploring the sudden death of

my uncle, for whom I acted in the duel, the behavior of Doctor Syn has

been exemplary throughout. My uncle put such an affront upon him that,

in spite of his peaceful cloth, he could not brook. I am about to

inform the Mayor that no blame can possibly be attached to Doctor Syn,

who fought like a gentleman.”

The generosity of this speech did much to put him in the good graces

of the assembly, so that when he requested them to leave Doctor Syn to

his business, they readily withdrew.

When the door had closed upon them, Syn smiled for the first time

that morning.

“Oh, you’ll find me well enough yet, I dare swear,” he answered

easily.

“Come, let us go. We two to the Mayor, and you to the lovely

Imogene. By gad, Doctor, you’re a lucky man, and I wish you joy. No

doubt the little minx has told you that I have been in love with her

myself.”

“A man of taste could hardly help it, sir,” replied the Doctor, as he

led them out by a back staircase to avoid the crowds.

This ruse, however, led Doctor Syn into a worse embarrassment, for, a

number of his own students spying him, he was lifted on their shoulders

and carried to St. Giles’ in triumph.

“My little plan has made your friend a hero,” said Nicholas as he led

Cobtree away.

“I would we were at liberty to praise his swordsmanship, rather t han

imaginary marksmanship. I shall never see a fight like that again. It

was magnificent.”

- 49 -

“I can imagine it sir,” replied Nicholas. “With all his faults, my

uncle was a fighter, and I would have given much to have come earlier on

the scene to see him matched.”

The young men were relieved to find the Mayor was entirely on the

Doctor’s side. Indeed, he did not attempt to hide his profound relief

that such a menace to the town’s peace had died.

Then they proceeded to the Chancellor’s, who, although applauding his

young colleague’s courage, took a graver view of the situation.

“Doctor Syn has violated one of the strictest rules of the

University,” he said.

“But, sir,” protested Cobtree, “he went to rescue his betrothed and a

man is a man before he is a parson.”

“Oh, I know, I know,” grumbled the old man. “He was tried beyond

bearing, I admit, and a young man of spirit could do little else. But

what will our pompous Bishop have to say about the duties of a

clergyman?”

“If h e unfrocks him,” cried Tony, “his Lordship will see his own

effigy burned in every quadrangle in Oxford. He had best abide by

public opinion.”

“Aye, sir,” cried Nicholas, backing up the lawyer. “If friend Syn is

unfrocked for this, for once you’ll see the town boys behind the Gowns,

and they’ll be unfrocking every parson in Oxford, the Bishop included.”

And while his friends were thus arguing in his defense, Doctor Syn,

having closed the doors against the boisterous crowds, found peace in

his lover’s arms.

“I think I am almost afraid of you,” she whispered. “I never thought