, he had been tempted by
the thought of a literary career; he had written in verse and prose, but with
small success. An attempt to compose the Prize Poem was soon abandoned in
discouragement; the essay he sent in had not been mentioned. These honours had
fallen to Earwaker, with whom it was not easy to compete on such ground. No, he
was not born a man of letters. But in science, granted fair opportunity, he
might make a name. He might, and he would!
    On the morrow, splendour of sunshine drew him forth to some distance from
the town. He went along the lanes singing; now it was holiday with him, and for
the first time he could enjoy the broad golden daylight, the genial warmth. In a
hollow of grassy fields, where he least expected to encounter an acquaintance,
it was his chance to come upon Christian Moxey, stretched at full length in the
company of nibbling sheep. Since the dinner at Mr. Moxey's, he had neither seen
nor heard of Christian, who, it seemed probable, was back at his work in
Rotherhithe. As their looks met, both laughed.
    »I won't get up,« said Christian; »the effort would be too great. Sit down
and let us have a talk.«
    »I disturb your thoughts,« answered Godwin.
    »A most welcome disturbance; they weren't very pleasant just then. In fact,
I have come as far as this in the hope of escaping them. I'm not much of a
walker, are you?«
    »Well, yes, I enjoy a good walk.«
    »You are of an energetic type,« said Christian, musingly. »You will do
something in life. When do you go up for Honours?«
    »I have decided not to go in at all.«
    »Indeed; I'm sorry to hear that.«
    »I have half made up my mind not to return to Whitelaw.«
    Observing his hearer's look of surprise, Godwin asked himself whether it
signified a knowledge of his footing at Whitelaw. The possibility of this galled
him; but it was such a great step to have declared, as it were in public, an
intention of freeing himself, that he was able to talk on with something of
aggressive confidence.
    »I think I shall go in for some practical work of a scientific kind. It was
a mistake for me to pursue the Arts course.«
    Christian looked at him earnestly.
    »Are you sure of that
