and having assumed that the ordeal was finished.

“And begin,” the examiner called.

Placing his palm flat over the cup, Henry ran slowly. It wasn’t about finishing first, he knew, it was about the water. Henry was starting to understand that no portion of the exam was exactly as it seemed, that there were tests nestled within tests.

After the lap, the boys were told to line up and give their names. Examiner of the Baritone recorded the amounts of water left in their cups. Henry cast glances out of the corners of his eyes. As far as he could tell, his cup was the fullest.

“Drink up, now,” Examiner the Shorter advised. “You’ve had a long run, and I won’t keep you any longer. You’re free to leave.”

“That’s it?” Harisford asked.

“That’s it,” Examiner the Shorter replied.

One by one, the boys picked up their jackets and ties and headed indoors, leaving their cups in the grass.

Sighing, Henry began collecting the cups.

“I’ll take these to the kitchen, sir,” Henry said to Examiner the Shorter.

“You can’t carry all of those by yourself,” Professor Stratford said.

Henry had forgotten that he was there.

“It’s fine, sir,” Henry said.

“Nonsense, my boy, you must be exhausted. You’ve just run five kilometers. I’ll help.”

Professor Stratford swept up an armload of cups and started toward the main building.

“Thank you for letting me take the exam,” Henry told the examiners, and then hurried to catch up with Professor Stratford.

“Nice touch, there, collecting the cups at the end,” Professor Stratford said. “I’ll bet anything that was part of the test.”

“I thought it might be,” Henry admitted. “And Cook would just send me back out here to collect them anyway.”

“So it seems fortune would favor the unfavored,” Stratford said, smiling to himself.

“Who said that?” Henry asked, not recognizing the quote.

“I did. Just now.”

“Thank you for rescuing me earlier,” Henry said.

They’d passed into the main building and Henry led the professor down one of the servants’ stairways.

“I’ve seen it happen before. This isn’t the first time these boys have tried that spitting trick.”

“How chivalrous,” Henry said with a lopsided smile.

“Isn’t it?” The professor’s face broke into a wry grin. “So how do you think it went today? The exam?”

“Well, it was odd. I mean, it was as though half the exam was secretly buried in other tests, and what you didn’t do counted as much as what you did.”

Professor Stratford nodded.

“I think I did well,” Henry said. “But I’m not certain. I wish they’d tell us already.”

“Tomorrow, my boy. Tomorrow.”

They reached the back entrance to the kitchen.

“I can take everything from here,” Henry said.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” the professor said, barging into the kitchen before Henry could protest.

“Sander, yeh rascal!” Cook yelled, and then took in the scholar’s cap of the man who had just entered the kitchen with an armload of cups. “Sorry, sir. Didja need sumthin’?”

“Just returning these cups,” Professor Stratford said. “And I’ll be borrowing young Henry to help me for the rest of the afternoon. Hopefully he won’t be missed.”

Without waiting for an answer, the professor smiled and sailed out the swinging door.

Henry quickly deposited his armload of cups in the kitchen and followed Professor Stratford. “What do you need me for, sir?”

“Oh, nothing,” the professor said, smiling. “I thought you could use a few hours to yourself.”

“Too polite to tell me I need a bath?” Henry joked, grateful for the unexpected kindness. Although, now that the professor mentioned it, a bath wasn’t such a bad idea. His shirt was sticky with sweat.

“You’ve found me out, Grim. And no lessons tonight. But come find me if you need me.”

“I will. And thanks again.”

The prospect of an afternoon free was a wonderful thing, and Henry headed off to the washroom to clean himself up.

Evening came all too soon, and Henry climbed out of bed, where he’d fallen asleep with a mystery novel on his chest. His legs felt rubbery from running, and his feet had blistered, making every step pinch painfully.

“Where’s Sander?” Cook asked, pulling a roast from the oven.

“Haven’t seen him,” Henry said. “I was, er, helping Professor Stratford all afternoon.”

“Well, now yeh can help me. These need teh be served.” Cook waved a beefy hand in the direction of a table covered with salad plates. “An’ since Sander ain’t bothered teh come down an’ do ’is job, yeh’ll be servin’ his table as well as yer regular.”

“Wonderful,” Henry muttered, hefting a large platter of salads.

The boys at his usual service table were the same crowd from that afternoon, and instead of ignoring him,