Chapter IV: Part 4

"Won't you just catch it!" said Barker to Duncan, but intending the remark for Eric.

"Just like your mean chaff," retorted Duncan. "But I say, Williams," he continued, laughing, "you _did_ look so funny in the whiskers."

At this juncture they heard all the study-boys running downstairs to the library, and, lost in conjecture, retired to their different rooms.

"What do you think he'll do to us?" asked Eric.

"I don't know," said Duncan uneasily; "flog us for one thing, that's certain. I'm so sorry about that basin, Eric; but it's no good fretting. We've had our cake, and now we must pay for it, that's all."

Eric's cogitations began to be unpleasant, when the door opened, and somebody stole noiselessly in.

"Who's there?"

"Upton. I've come to have a chat. The Doctor's like a turkey-cock at the sight of a red handkerchief. Never saw him in such a rage."

"Why, what's he been saying?" asked Eric, as Upton came and took a seat on his bed.

"Oh! he's been rowing us like six o'clock," said Upton, "about `moral responsibility,' `abetting the follies of children,' `forgetting our position in the school,' and I don't know what all; and he ended by asking who'd been in the dormitories. Of course, I confessed the soft impeachment, whereon he snorted, `Ha! I suspected so. Very well, sir, you don't know how to use a study; you shall be deprived of it till the end of term.'"

"Did he really, Horace?" said Eric. "And it's all my doing that you've got into the scrape. Do forgive me."

"Bosh! My dear fellow," said Upton, "it's twice as much my fault as yours; and, after all, it was only a bit of fun. It's rather a bore losing the study, certainly; but never mind, we shall see all the more of each other. Good-night; I must be off."

Next morning, prayers were no sooner over than Dr Rowlands said to the boys, "Stop! I have a word to say to you."

"I find that there was the utmost disorder in the dormitories yesterday evening. All the candles were relighted at forbidden hours, and the noise made was so great that it was heard through the whole building. I am grieved that I cannot leave you, even for a few hours, without your taking such advantage of my absence; and that the upper boys, so far from using their influence to prevent these infractions of discipline, seem inclined rather to join in them themselves. On this occasion I have punished Upton, by depriving him of a privilege which he has abused; and as I myself detected Duncan and Williams, they will be flogged in the library at twelve. But I now come to the worst part of the proceeding. Somebody had been reckless enough to try and prevent surprise by the dangerous expedient of putting a tin-basin against the iron door. The consequence was, that I was severely hurt, and _might_ have been seriously injured in entering the lavatory. I must know the name of the delinquent."

Upton and Eric immediately stood up. Dr Rowlands looked surprised, and there was an expression of grieved interest in Mr Rose's face.

"Very well," said the Doctor, "I shall speak to you both privately."

Twelve o'clock came, and Duncan and Eric received a severe caning. Corporal punishment, however necessary and desirable for some dispositions, always produced on Eric the worst effects. He burned not with remorse or regret, but with shame and violent indignation, and listened, with an affectation of stubborn indifference, to Dr Rowlands's warnings. When the flogging was over, he almost rushed out of the room, to choke in solitude his sense of humiliation, nor would he suffer any one for an instant to allude to his disgrace. Dr Rowlands had hinted that Upton was doing him no good; but he passionately resented the suggestion, and determined, with obstinate perversity, to cling more than ever to the boy whom he had helped to involve in the same trouble with himself.

Any attempt on the part of masters to interfere in the friendships of boys is usually unsuccessful. The boy who has been warned against his new acquaintance not seldom repeats to him the fact that Mr So-and-so doesn't like seeing them together, and after that they fancy themselves bound in honour to show that they are not afraid of continuing their acquaintance. It was not strange, therefore, that Eric and Upton were thrown more than ever into each other's society, and consequently that Eric, while he improved daily in strength, activity, and prowess, neglected more and more his school duties and honourable ambitions.

Mr Rose sadly remarked the failure of promise in his character and abilities, and did all that could be done, by gentle firmness and unwavering kindness, to recall his pupil to a sense of duty. One night he sent for him to supper, and invited no one else. During the evening he drew out Eric's exercise, and compared it with those of Russell and Owen, who were now getting easily ahead of him in marks. Eric's was careless, hurried, and untidy; the other two were neat, spirited, and painstaking, and had, therefore, been marked much higher. They displayed all the difference between conscientious and perfunctory work.

"Your exercises _used_ to be far better--even incomparably better," said Mr Rose; "what is the cause of this falling off?"

Eric was silent.

Mr Rose laid his hand gently on his head. "I fear, my boy, you have not been improving lately. You have got into many scrapes, and are letting boys beat you in form who are far your inferiors in ability. That is a very bad _sign_, Eric; in itself it is a discouraging fact, but I fear it indicates worse evils. You are wasting the golden hours, my boy, that can never return. I only hope and trust that no other change for the worse is taking place in your character."

And so he talked on till the boy's sorrow was undisguised. "Come," he said gently, "let us kneel down together before we part."

Boy and master knelt down humbly side by side, and, from a full heart, the young man poured out his fervent petitions for the boy beside him. Eric's soul seemed to catch a glow from his words, and he loved him as a brother. He rose from his knees full of the strongest resolutions, and earnestly promised amendment for the future.

But poor Eric did not yet know his own infirmity. For a time, indeed, there was a marked improvement; but daily life flowed on with its usual allurements, and when the hours of temptation came, his good intentions melted away like the morning dew, so that, in a few more weeks, the prayer, and the vows that followed it, had been obliterated from his memory without leaving any traces in his life.

VOLUME ONE, CHAPTER ELEVEN.

ERIC IN COVENTRY.

And either greet him not,
Or else disdainfully, which shall shake him more
Than if not looked on.
_Troilus and Cressida_, Act Three, Scene 3.

Upton, expatriated from his study, was allowed to use one of the smaller classrooms which were occupied during play-hours by those boys who were too high in the school for "the boarders' room," and who were waiting to succeed to the studies as they fell vacant. There were three or four others with him in this classroom, and although it was less pleasant than his old quarters, it was yet far more comfortable than the Pandemonium of the Shell and fourth-form boys.

As a general rule, no boys were allowed to sit in any of the classrooms except their legitimate occupants. The rule, however, was very generally overlooked, and hence Eric, always glad of an opportunity to escape from the company of Barker and his associates, became a constant frequenter of his friend's new abode. Here they used to make themselves very comfortable. Joining the rest, they would drink coffee or chocolate, and amuse themselves over the fire with _Punch_, or some warlike novel in a green or yellow cover. One of them very often read aloud to the rest; and Eric, being both a good reader and a merry intelligent listener, soon became quite a favourite among the other boys.

Mr Rose had often seen him sitting there, and left him unmolested; but if ever Mr Gordon happened to come in and notice him, he invariably turned him out, and after the first offence or two, had several times set him an imposition. This treatment gave fresh intensity to his now deeply-seated disgust at his late master, and his expressions of indignation at "Gordon's spite" were loud and frequent.

One day Mr Gordon had accidentally come in, and found no one there but Upton and Eric; they were standing very harmlessly by the window, with Upton's arm resting kindly on Eric's shoulder, as they watched with admiration the network of rippled sunbeams that flashed over the sea. Upton had just been telling Eric the splendid phrase, "anerhithmon gelasma ponton", which he had stumbled upon in an Aeschylus lesson that morning, and they were trying which would hit on the best rendering of it. Eric stuck up for the literal sublimity of "the innumerable laughter of the sea," while Upton was trying to win him over to "the many-twinkling smile of ocean." They were enjoying the discussion, and each stoutly maintaining his own rendering, when Mr Gordon entered.

On this occasion he was particularly angry: he had an especial dislike of seeing the two boys together, because he fancied that the younger had grown more than usually conceited and neglectful since he had been under the fifth-form patronage; and he saw in Eric's presence there a new case of wilful disobedience.

"Williams, here _again_!" he exclaimed sharply; "why, sir, you seem to suppose that you may defy rules with impunity! How often have I told you that no one is allowed to sit here, except the regular occupants?"

His voice startled the two boys from their pleasant discussion.

"No other master takes any notice of it, sir," said Upton.

"I have nothing to do with other masters. Williams, you will bring me the fourth Georgic, written out by Saturday morning, for your repeated disobedience. Upton, I have a great mind to punish you also, for tempting him to come here."

This was a mistake on Mr Gordon's part, of which Upton took immediate advantage.

"I have no power to prevent it, sir, if he wishes it. Besides," he continued with annoying blandness of tone, "it would be inhospitable; and I am too glad of his company."

Eric smiled; and Mr Gordon frowned. "Williams, leave the room instantly."

The boy obeyed slowly and doggedly. "Mr Rose never interferes with me, when he sees me here," he said as he retreated.

"Then I shall request Mr Rose to do so in future; your conceit and impertinence are getting intolerable."

Eric only answered with a fiery glance; for of all charges the one which a boy resents most is an accusation of conceit. The next minute Upton joined him on the stairs, and Mr Gordon heard them laughing a little ostentatiously, as they ran out into the playground together. He went away full of strong contempt, and from that moment began to look on the friends as two of the worst boys in the school.

This incident had happened on Thursday, which was a half-holiday, and instead of being able to join in any of the games, Eric had to spend that weary afternoon in writing away at the fourth Georgic; Upton staying in a part of the time to help him a little, by dictating the lines to him--an occupation not unfrequently interrupted by storms of furious denunciation against Mr Gordon's injustice and tyranny; Eric vowing, with the usual vagueness of schoolboy intention, "that he would pay him out somehow yet."

The imposition was not finished that evening, and it again consumed some of the next day's leisure, part of it being written between schools in the forbidden classroom. Still it was not quite finished on Friday afternoon at six, when school ended, and Eric stayed a few minutes behind the rest to scribble off the last ten lines; which done, he banged down the lid of the desk, not locking it, and ran out.

The next morning an incident happened which involved considerable consequences to some of the actors in my story.

Mr Rose and several other masters had not a schoolroom to themselves, like Mr Gordon, but heard their forms in the great hall. At one end of this hall was a board used for the various school notices, to which there were always affixed two or three pieces of paper containing announcements about examinations and other matters of general interest.

On Saturday morning (when Eric was to give up his Georgic), the boys, as they dropped into the hall for morning school, observed a new notice on the board, and thronging round to see what it was, read these words, written on a half-sheet of paper attached by wafers to the board--

"GORDON IS A SURLY DEVIL."

As may be supposed, so completely novel an announcement took them all very much by surprise, and they wondered who had been so audacious as to play this trick. But their wonder was cut short by the entrance of the masters, and they all took their seats, without any one tearing down the dangerous paper.

After a few minutes the eye of the second master, Mr Ready, fell on the paper, and, going up, he read it, stood for a moment transfixed with astonishment, and then called Mr Rose.

Pointing to the inscription he said, "I think we had better leave that there, Rose, exactly as it is, till Dr Rowlands has seen it. Would you mind asking him to step in here?"

Just at this juncture Eric came in, having been delayed by Mr Gordon, while he rigidly inspected the imposition. As he took his seat, Montagu, who was next him, whispered--

"I say, have you seen the notice-board?"

"No. Why?"

"Why, some fellow has been writing up an opinion of Gordon not very favourable."

"And serve him right, too, brute!" said Eric, smarting with the memory of his imposition.

"Well, there'll be no end of a row; you'll see."

During this conversation, Dr Rowlands came in with Mr Rose. He read the paper, frowned, pondered a moment, and then said to Mr Rose--

"Would you kindly summon the lower-school into the hall? As it would be painful to Mr Gordon to be present, you had better explain to him how matters stand."

"Hulloa! here's a rumpus!" whispered Montagu; "he never has the lower-school down for nothing."

A noise was heard on the stairs, and in flocked the lower-school. When they had ranged themselves on the vacant forms, there was a dead silence and hush of expectation.

"I have summoned you all together," said the Doctor, "on a most serious occasion. This morning, on coming into the schoolroom, the masters found that the notice-board had been abused for the purpose of writing up an insult to one of our number, which is at once coarse and wicked. As only a few of you have seen it, it becomes my deeply painful duty to inform you of its purport; the words are these--`Gordon is a surly devil.'" A _very_ slight titter followed this statement, which was instantly succeeded by a sort of thrilling excitement; but Eric, when he heard the words, started perceptibly, and coloured as he caught Montagu's eye fixed on him.

Dr Rowlands continued--

"I suppose this dastardly impertinence has been perpetrated by some boy out of a spirit of revenge. I am perfectly amazed at the audacity and meanness of the attempt, and it may be very difficult to discover the author of it. But, depend upon it, discover him _we will_ at whatever cost. Whoever the offender may be, and he must be listening to me at this moment, let him be assured that he shall _not_ be unpunished. His guilty secret shall be torn from him. His punishment can only be mitigated by his instantly yielding himself up."

No one stirred, but during the latter part of this address Eric was so uneasy, and his cheek burned with such hot crimson, that several eyes were upon him, and the suspicions of more than one boy were awakened.

"Very well," said the head-master, "the guilty boy is not inclined to confess. Mark, then; if his name has not been given up to me by to-day week, every indulgence to the school will be forfeited, the next whole holiday stopped, and the coming cricket-match prohibited."

"The handwriting may be some clue," suggested Mr Ready. "Would you have any objection to my examining the note-books of the Shell?"

"None at all. The Shell boys are to show their books to Mr Ready immediately."

The head-boy of the Shell collected the books, and took them to the desk; the three masters glanced casually at about a dozen, and suddenly stopped at one. Eric's heart beat loud, as he saw Mr Rose point towards him.

"We have discovered a handwriting which remarkably resembles that on the board. I give the offender one more chance of substituting confession for detection."

No one stirred; but Montagu felt that his friend was trembling violently.

"Eric Williams, stand out in the room!"

Blushing scarlet, and deeply agitated, the boy obeyed.

"The writing on the notice is exactly like yours. Do you know anything of this shameful proceeding?"

"Nothing, sir," he murmured in a low tone.

"Nothing whatever?"

"Nothing whatever, sir."

Dr Rowlands's look searched him through and through, and seemed to burn into his heart. He did not meet it, but hung his head. The Doctor felt certain from his manner that he was guilty. He chained him to the spot with his glance for a minute or two, and then said slowly, and with a deep sigh--

"Very well; I _hope_ you have spoken the truth, but whether you have or no, we shall soon discover. The school, and especially the upper boys, will remember what I have said. I shall now tear down the insulting notice, and put it into your hands, Avonley, as head of the school, that you may make further inquiries." He left the room, and the boys resumed their usual avocation till twelve o'clock. But poor Eric could hardly get through his ordinary pursuits; he felt sick and giddy, until everybody noticed his strange embarrassed manner and random answers.

No sooner had twelve o'clock struck than the whole school broke up into knots of buzzing and eager talkers.

"I wonder who did it," said a dozen voices at once. "The writing was undoubtedly Williams's," suggested some.

"And did you notice how red and pale he got when the Doctor spoke to him, and how he hung his head?"

"Yes; and one knows how he hates Gordon."

"Ay; by the bye, Gordon set him a Georgic only on Thursday, and he has been swearing at him ever since."

"I noticed that he stayed in after all the rest last night," said Barker pointedly.

"Did he? By Jove, that looks bad."

"Has any one charged him with it?" asked Duncan.

"Yes," answered one of the group; "but he's as proud about it as Lucifer, and is furious if you mention it to him. He says we ought to know him better than to think him capable of such a thing."

"And quite right, too," said Duncan. "If he did it, he's done something totally unlike what one would have believed possible of him."

The various items of evidence were put together, and certainly they seemed to prove a strong case against Eric. In addition to the probabilities already mentioned, it was found that the ink used was of a violet colour, and a peculiar kind, which Eric was known to patronise; and not only so, but the wafers with which the paper had been attached to the board were yellow, and exactly of the same size with some which Eric was said to possess. How the latter facts had been discovered, nobody exactly knew, but they began to be very generally whispered throughout the school.

In short, the almost universal conviction among the boys proclaimed that he was guilty, and many urged him to confess it at once, and save the school from the threatened punishment. But he listened to such suggestions with the most passionate indignation.

"What!" he said angrily, "tell a wilful lie to blacken my own innocent character? Never!"

The consequence was, they all begun to shun him. Eric was put into Coventry. Very few boys in the school still clung to him, and maintained his innocence in spite of appearances, but they were the boys whom he had most loved and valued, and they were most vigorous in his defence. They were Russell, Montagu, Duncan, Owen, and little Wright.

On the evening of the Saturday, Upton had sought out Eric, and said, in a very serious tone, "This is a bad business, Williams. I cannot forget how you have been abusing Gordon lately, and though I won't believe you guilty, yet you ought to explain."

"What? even _you_, then, suspect me?" said Eric, bursting into proud and angry tears. "Very well. I shan't condescend to _deny_ it. I won't speak to you again till you have repented of mistrusting me," and he resolutely rejected all further overtures on Upton's part.

He was alone in his misery. Some one, he perceived, had plotted to destroy his character, and he saw too clearly how many causes of suspicion told against him. But it was very bitter to think that the whole school could so readily suppose that he would do a thing which from his soul he abhorred. "No," he thought; "bad I may be, but I _could_ not have done such a base and cowardly trick."

Never in his life had he been so wretched. He wandered alone to the rocks, and watched the waves dashing against them with the rising tide. The tumult of the weather seemed to relieve and console the tumult of his heart. He drank in strength and defiance from the roar of the waters, and climbed to their very edge along the rocks, where every fresh rush of the waves enveloped him in white swirls of cold salt spray. The look of the green, rough, hungry sea harmonised with his feelings, and he sat down and stared into it, to find relief from the torment of his thoughts.

At last, with a deep sigh, he turned away to go back and meet the crowd of suspicious and unkindly companions, and brood alone over his sorrow in the midst of them. He had not gone many steps when he caught sight of Russell in the distance. His first impulse was to run away and escape; but Russell determined to stop him, and when he came up, said, "Dear Eric, I have sought you out on purpose to tell you that I don't suspect you, and have never done so for a moment. I know you too well, my boy, and be sure that _I_ will always stick to you, even if the whole school cut you."

"Oh, Edwin, I am _so_ wretched. I needn't tell you that I am quite innocent of this. What have I done to be so suspected? Why, even your cousin Upton won't believe me."

"But he does, Eric," said Russell; "he told me so just now, and several others said the same thing."

A transient gleam passed over Eric's face.

"Oh, I do so long for home again," he said. "I hate this place. Except you, I have no friend."

"Don't say so, Eric. This cloud will soon blow over. Depend upon it, as the Doctor said, we shall discover the offender yet, and the fellows will soon make you reparation for their false suspicions. And you _have_ one friend, Eric," he continued, pointing reverently upwards.

Eric was overcome; he sat down on the grass, while intense pride and the consciousness of innocence struggled with the burning sense of painful injustice. Russell sat silent and pitying beside him, till at last Eric, with sudden energy, sprang to his feet, and said, "Now, Edwin! I've been conquering my cowardice, thanks to you, so come along home. After all, the fellows are in the wrong, not I," and so saying he took Russell's arm, and walked across the playground with almost a haughty look.

When they got home, Eric found three notes in his drawer. One was from Mr Gordon, and ran thus--

"I have little doubt, Williams, that you have done this act. Believe
me, I feel no anger, only pity for you. Come to me and confess, and I
promise, by every means in my power, to befriend and save you."

This note he read, and then, stamping on the floor, tore it up furiously into twenty pieces, which he scattered about the room.

Another was from Mr Rose--

"Dear Eric--I _cannot, will_ not, believe you guilty, although
appearances look very black. You have many faults, but I feel sure
that I cannot be mistaken in supposing you too noble-minded for a
revenge so petty and so mean. Come to me, my boy, if I can help you
in any way. I _trust you_, Eric, and will use every endeavour to
right you in the general estimation. You are innocent; pray to God
for help under this cruel trial, and be sure that your character will
yet be cleared.--Affectionately yours, Walter Rose."

"P.S.--I can easily understand that just now you will like quiet; come
and sit with me in the library as much as you like."

He read this note two or three times with grateful emotion, and at that moment would have died for Mr Rose. The third note was from Owen, as follows--

"Dear Williams--We have been cool to each other lately; naturally,
perhaps. But yet I think that it will be some consolation to you to
be told, even by a rival, that I, for one, feel certain of your
innocence,--and, moreover, think that I can _prove_ it, as I will tell
you in time. If you want company, I shall be delighted to have a
walk.--Yours truly, D. Owen."

This note, too, brought much comfort to the poor boy's lonely and passionate heart. He put it into his pocket, and determined at once to accept Mr Rose's kind offer of allowing him to sit for the present in the library.

There were several boys in the room while he was reading his notes, but none of them spoke to him, and he was too proud to notice them, or interrupt the constrained silence. As he went out he met Duncan and Montagu, who at once addressed him in the hearing of the rest.

"Ha! Williams," said Duncan, "we have been looking everywhere for you, old fellow. Cheer up, you shall be cleared yet. I for one, and Monty for another, will maintain your innocence before the whole school."

Montagu _said_ nothing, but Eric understood full well the trustful kindness of his pressure of the hand. His heart was too full to speak, and he went on towards the library.

"I wonder at your speaking to that fellow," said Ball, as the two newcomers joined the group at the fireplace.

"You will be yourself ashamed of having ever suspected him before long," said Montagu warmly; "ay, the whole lot of you; and you are very unkind to condemn him before you are certain."

"I wish you joy of your _friend_, Duncan," sneered Barker.

"Friend?" said Duncan, firing up; "yes! he is my friend, and I'm not ashamed of him. It would be well for the school if _all_ the fellows were as honourable as Williams."

Barker took the hint, and although he was too brazen to blush, thought it better to say no more.

VOLUME ONE, CHAPTER TWELVE.

THE TRIAL.

A plot, a plot, a plot, to ruin all.
_Tennyson, The Princess_.

On the Monday evening the head-boy reported to Dr Rowlands that the perpetrator of the offence had not been discovered, but that one boy was very generally suspected, and on grounds that seemed plausible. "I admit," he added, "that from the little I know of him, he seems to me a very unlikely sort of boy to do it."

"I think," suggested the Doctor, "that the best way would be for you to have a regular trial on the subject and hear the evidence. Do you think that you can be trusted to carry on the investigation publicly, with good order and fairness?"

"I think so, sir," said Avonley.

"Very well. Put up a notice, asking all the school to meet by themselves in the boarders' room to-morrow afternoon at three, and see what you can do among you."

Avonley did as the Doctor suggested. At first, when the boys assembled, they seemed inclined to treat the matter as a joke, and were rather disorderly; but Avonley briefly begged them, if they determined to have a trial, to see that it was conducted sensibly; and by general consent he was himself voted into the desk as president. He then got up and said--

"There must be no sham or nonsense about this affair. Let all the boys take their seats quietly down the room."

They did so, and Avonley asked, "Is Williams here?"

Looking round, they discovered he was not. Russell instantly went to the library to fetch him, and told him what was going on. He took Eric's arm kindly as they entered, to show the whole school that he was not ashamed of him, and Eric deeply felt the delicacy of his goodwill.

"Are you willing to be tried, Williams," asked Avonley, "on the charge of having written the insulting paper about Mr Gordon? Of course we know very little how these kind of things ought to be conducted, but we will see that everything done is open and above ground, and try to manage it properly."

"There is nothing I should like better," said Eric.

He had quite recovered his firm manly bearing. A quiet conversation with his dearly loved friend and master had reassured him in the confidence of innocence, and though the colour on his cheeks had through excitement sunk into two bright red spots, he looked wonderfully noble and winning as he stood before the boys in the centre of the room, modest, and yet with the proud consciousness of innocence in his bearing. His appearance caused a little reaction in his favour, and a murmur of applause followed his answer.

"Good," said Avonley; "who will prosecute on the part of the school?"

There was a pause. Nobody seemed to covet the office.

"Very well; if no one is willing to prosecute, the charge drops."

"I will do it," said Gibson, a Rowlandite, one of the study-boys at the top of the fifth-form. He was a clever fellow, and Eric liked the little he had seen of him.

"Have you any objection, Williams, to the jury being composed of the sixth-form? or are there any names among them which you wish to challenge?"

"No," said Eric, glancing round indifferently.

"Well, now, who will defend the accused?"

Another pause, and Upton got up.

"No," said Eric at once. "You were inclined to distrust me, Upton, and I will only be defended by somebody who never doubted my innocence."

Another pause followed, and then, blushing crimson, Russell got up. "I am only a Shell boy," he said; "but if Eric doesn't mind trusting his cause to me, I will defend him since no other fifth-form fellow stirs."

"Thank you, Russell, I _wanted_ you to offer; I could wish no better defender."

"Will Owen, Duncan, and Montagu help me, if they can?" asked Russell.

"Very willingly," they all three said, and went to take their seats by him. They conversed eagerly for a few minutes, seeming to make more than one discovery during their discussion, and then declared themselves ready.

"All I have got to do," said Gibson rising, "is to bring before the school the grounds for suspecting Williams, and all the evidence which makes it probable that he is the offender. Now, first of all, the thing must have been done between Friday evening and Saturday morning; and since the schoolroom door is generally locked soon after school, it was probably done in the short interval between six and a quarter-past. I shall now examine some witnesses."

The first boy called upon was Pietrie, who deposed that on Friday evening, when he left the room, having been detained a few minutes, the only boy remaining in it was Williams.

Carter, the school-servant, was then sent for, and deposed that he had met Master Williams hastily running out of the room, when he went at a quarter-past six to lock the door.

Examined by Gibson--

"Was any boy in the room when you did lock the door?"

"No one."

"Did you meet any one else in the passage?"

"No."

Cross-examined by Russell--

"Do boys ever get into the room after the door is locked?"

"Yes."

"By what means?"

"Through the side windows."

"That will do."

Russell here whispered something to Duncan, who at once left the room, and on returning, after a few minutes' absence, gave Russell a nod so full of significance that, like Lord Burleigh's shake of the head, it seemed to speak whole volumes at once.

Barker was next brought forward, and questioned by Gibson.

"Do you know that Williams is in the habit of using a particular kind of ink?"

"Yes; it is of a violet colour, and has a peculiar smell."

"Could you recognise anything written with it?"

"Yes."

Gibson here handed to Barker the paper which had caused so much trouble.

"Is that the kind of ink?"

"Yes."

"Do you know the handwriting on that paper?"

"Yes; it is Williams's hand."

"How can you tell?"

"He makes his r's in a curious way."

"Turn the paper over. Have you ever seen wafers of that kind before?"

"Yes; Williams has a box of them in his desk."

"Has any other boy, that you are aware of wafers like them?"

"No."

Cross-examined by Duncan--

"_How_ do you know that Williams has wafers like those?"

"I have seen him use them."

"For what purpose?"

"To fasten letters."

"I can't help remarking that you seem very well acquainted with what he does. Several of those who know him best, and have seen him oftenest, never heard of these wafers. May I ask," he said, "if any one else in the school will witness to having seen Williams use these wafers?"

No one spoke, and Barker, whose malice seemed to have been changed into uneasiness, sat down.

Upton was the next witness. Gibson began--

"You have seen a good deal of Williams?"

"Yes," said Upton, smiling.

"Have you ever heard him express any opinions of Mr Gordon?"

"Often."

"Of what kind?"

"Dislike and contempt," said Upton, amidst general laughter.

"Have you ever heard him say anything which implied a desire to injure him?"

"The other day Mr Gordon gave him a Georgic as an imposition, and I heard Williams say that he would like to pay him out."

This last fact was new to the school, and excited a great sensation.

"When did he say this?"

"On Friday afternoon."

Upton had given his evidence with great reluctance, although, being simply desirous that the truth should come out, he concealed nothing that he knew. He brightened up a little when Russell rose to cross-examine him.

"Have you ever known Williams do any mean act?"

"Never."

"Do you consider him a boy _likely_ to have been guilty on this occasion?"

"Distinctly the reverse. I am convinced of his innocence."

The answer was given with vehement emphasis, and Eric felt greatly relieved by it.

One or two other boys were then called on as witnesses to the great agitation which Eric had shown during the investigation in the schoolroom, and then Gibson, who was a sensible self-contained fellow, said, "I have now done my part. I have shown that the accused had a grudge against Mr Gordon at the time the thing was done, and had threatened to be revenged on him; that he was the last boy in the room during the time when the offence must have been committed; that the handwriting is known to be like his, and that the ink and wafers employed were such as he, and he only, was known to possess. In addition to all this, his behaviour, when the matter was first publicly noticed, was exactly such as coincides with the supposition of his guilt. I think you will all agree in considering these grounds of suspicion very strong; and leaving them to carry their full weight with you, I close the case for the prosecution."

The school listened to Gibson's quiet unmoved formality with a kind of grim and gloomy satisfaction, and when he had concluded, there were probably few but Eric's own immediate friends who were not fully convinced of his guilt, however sorry they might be to admit so unfavourable an opinion of a companion whom they all admired.

After a minute or two Russell rose for the defence, and asked, "Has Williams any objection to his desk being brought, and any of its contents put in as evidence?"

"Not the least; there is the key, and you will find it in my place in school."

The desk was brought, but it was found to be already unlocked, and Russell looked at some of the note-paper which it contained. He then rose--nervously at first, and with a deep blush lighting up his face, but soon showing a warmth and sarcasm, which few expected from his gentle nature.

"In spite of the evidence adduced," he began, "I think I can show that Williams is not guilty. It is quite true that he dislikes Mr Gordon, and would not object to any open way of showing it; it is quite true that he used the expressions attributed to him, and that the ink and wafers are such as may be found in his desk, and that the handwriting is not unlike his. But is it probable that a boy intending to post up an insult such as this, would do so in a manner and at a time so likely to involve him in immediate detection and certain punishment? At any rate, he would surely disguise his usual handwriting. Now, I ask any one to look at this paper, and tell me whether it is not clear, on the contrary, that these letters were traced slowly and with care, as would be the case with an elaborate attempt to imitate?" Russell here handed the paper to the jury, who again narrowly examined it.

"Now, the evidence of Pietrie and Carter is of no use, because Carter himself admitted that boys often enter the room by the window--a fact to which we shall have to allude again.

"We admit the evidence about the ink and wafers. But it is rather strange that Barker should know about the wafers, since neither I, nor any other friend of Williams, often as we have sat by him when writing letters, have ever observed that he possessed any like them."

Several boys began to look at Barker, who was sitting very ill at ease on the corner of a form, in vain trying to appear unconcerned.

"There is another fact which no one yet knows, but which I must mention. It will explain Eric's--I mean Williams's--agitation when Dr Rowlands read out the words on that paper; and, confident of his innocence, I am indifferent to its appearing to tell against him. I myself once heard Eric--I beg pardon, I mean Williams," (he said, correcting himself with a smile)--"use the very words written on that paper, and not only heard them, but expostulated with him strongly for the use of them. I need hardly say how very unlikely it is that, remembering this, he should thus publicly draw my suspicions on him, if he meant to insult Mr Gordon undiscovered. But, besides myself there was another boy who accidentally overheard that expression. That boy was Barker.

"I have to bring forward a new piece of evidence, which at least ought to go for something. Looking at this half-sheet of note-paper, I see that the printer's name on the stamp in the corner is `Graves, York.' Now, I have just found that there is no paper at all like this in Williams's desk; all the note-paper it contains is marked `Blakes, Ayrton.'

"I might bring many witnesses to prove how very unlike Williams's general character a trick of this kind would be. But I am not going to do this. We think we know the real offender. We have had one trial, and now demand another. It is our painful duty (but depend upon it we shall not shirk it," he added with unusual passion) "to prove Williams's innocence by proving another's guilt. That other is a known enemy of mine, and of Montagu's, and of Owen's. We therefore leave the charge of stating the case against him to Duncan, with whom he has never quarrelled."

Russell sat down amid general applause; he had performed his task with a wonderful modesty and self-possession, which filled every one with admiration, and Eric warmly pressed his hand.

The interest of the school was intensely excited, and Duncan, after a minute's pause, starting up, said--

"Williams has allowed his desk to be brought in and examined. Will Barker do the same?" The culprit now saw at once that his plot to ruin Eric was recoiling on himself. He got up, swore and blustered at Russell, Duncan, and Montagu, and at first flatly refused to allow his desk to be brought. He was, however, forced to yield, and when opened, it was immediately seen that the note-paper it contained was identical with that on which the words had been written. At this he affected to be perfectly unconcerned, and merely protested against what he called the meanness of trying to fix the charge on him.

"And what have you been doing the whole of the last day or two," asked Gibson quietly, "but endeavouring to fix the charge on another?"

"We have stronger evidence against you," said Duncan, confronting him with an undaunted look, before which his insolence quailed. "Russell, will you call Graham?"

Graham was called, and put on his honour.

"You were in the sick-room on Friday evening?"

"Yes."

"Did you see any one get in to the schoolroom through the side window?"

"That's a leading question," interrupted Barker.

"Stuff!" said Graham contemptuously, not vouchsafing further reply to the objection. "I'll just tell you all I know. I was sitting doing nothing in the sick-room, when I suddenly saw Barker clamber into the schoolroom by the window, which he left open. I was looking on simply from curiosity, and saw him search Williams's desk, from which he took out something, I could not make out what. He then went to his own desk, and wrote for about ten minutes, after which I observed him go up and stand by the notice-board. When he had done this, he got out by the window again, and ran off."

"Didn't this strike you as extraordinary?"

"No; I thought nothing more about it till some one told me in the sick-room about this row. I then mentioned privately what I had seen, and it wasn't till I saw Duncan, half an hour ago, that I thought it worth while to make it generally known."

Duncan turned an inquiring eye to Barker (who sat black and silent), and then pulled out some bits of torn paper from his pocket, put them together, and called Owen to stand up. Showing him the fragments of paper, he asked, "Have you ever seen these before?"

"Yes. On Saturday, when the boys left the schoolroom, I stayed behind to think a little over what had occurred, feeling convinced that Williams was _not_ guilty, spite of appearances. I was standing by the empty fireplace, when these bits of paper caught my eye. I picked them up, and, after a great deal of trouble, fitted them together. They are covered apparently with failures in an attempt at forgery, viz, first, `Gordon is a sur--' and then a stop as though the writer were dissatisfied, and several of the words written over again for practice, and then a number of r's made in the way that Williams makes them."

"There you may stop," said Barker, stamping fiercely; "I did it all."

A perfect yell of scorn and execration followed this announcement.

"What! _you_ did it, and caused all this trouble, you ineffable blackguard!" shouted Upton, grasping him with one hand, while he struck him with the other.

"Stop!" said Avonley; "just see that he doesn't escape, while we decide on his punishment."

It was very soon decided by the sixth-form that he should run the gauntlet of the school. The boys instantly took out their handkerchiefs, and knotted them tight. They then made a double line down each side of the corridor, and turned Barker loose. He stood stock-still at one end while the fellows nearest him thrashed him unmercifully with the heavy knots. At last the pain was getting severe, and he moved on, finally beginning to run. Five times he was forced up and down the line, and five times did every boy in the line give him a blow, which, if it did not hurt much, at least spoke of no slight anger and contempt. He was dogged and unmoved to the last, and then Avonley hauled him into the presence of Dr Rowlands. He was put in a secure room by himself, and the next morning was first flogged and then publicly expelled. Thenceforth he disappears from the history of Roslyn School.

I need hardly say that neither Eric nor his friends took any part in this retributive act; indeed they tried (though in vain) to prevent it. They sat together in the boarders' room till it was over, engaged in exciting discussion of the recent events. Most warmly did Eric thank them for their trustfulness. "Thank you," he said, "with all my heart, for proving my innocence; but thank you, even more a great deal, for first believing it."

Upton was the first to join them, and since he had but wavered for a moment, he was soon warmly reconciled with Eric. They had hardly shaken hands when the rest came flocking in. "We have all been unjust," said Avonley; "let's make up for it as well as we can. Three cheers for Eric Williams!"

They gave not three, but a dozen, till they were tired; and meanwhile every one was pressing round him, telling him how sorry they were for the false suspicion, and doing all they could to show their regret for his recent troubles. His genial, boyish heart readily forgave them, and his eyes shone with joy. The delicious sensation of returning esteem made him almost think it worth while to have undergone his trial.

Most happily did he spend the remainder of that afternoon, and it was no small relief to all the Rowlandites in the evening to find themselves finally rid of Barker, whose fate no one pitied, and whose name no one mentioned without disgust. He had done more than any other boy to introduce meanness, quarrelling, and vice, and the very atmosphere of the rooms seemed healthier in his absence. One boy only forgave him, one boy only prayed for him, one boy only endeavoured to see him for one last kind word. That boy was Edwin Russell.

After prayers, Mr Gordon, who had been at Dr Rowlands's to dinner, apologised to Eric amply and frankly for his note, and did and said all that could be done by an honourable man to repair the injury of an unjust doubt. Eric felt his generous humility, and from thenceforth, though they were never friends, he and Mr Gordon ceased to be enemies.

That night Mr Rose crowned his happiness by asking him and his defenders to supper in the library. A most bright and joyous evening they passed, for they were in the highest spirits; and when the master bade them "good-night," he kindly detained Eric, and said to him, "Keep an innocent heart, my boy, and you need never fear trouble. Only think if you had been guilty, and were now in Barker's place!"

"Oh, I _couldn't_ be guilty, sir," said Eric, gaily.

"Not of such a fault, perhaps. But," he added solemnly, "there are many kinds of temptation, Eric; many kinds. And they are easy to fall into. You will find it no light battle to resist them."

"Believe me, sir, I will try," he answered with humility.

"Jehovah-Nissi!" said Mr Rose. "Let the Lord be your banner, Eric, and you will win the victory. God bless you."

And as the boy's graceful figure disappeared through the door, Mr Rose drew his arm-chair to the fire, and sat and meditated long. He was imagining for Eric a sunny future--a future of splendid usefulness, of reciprocated affection, of brilliant fame.

VOLUME ONE, CHAPTER THIRTEEN.

THE ADVENTURE AT THE STACK.

Ten cables from where green meadows
And quiet homes could be seen,
No greater space
From peril to peace;
But the savage sea between!
_Edwin Arnold_.

The Easter holidays at Roslyn lasted about ten days, and as most of the boys came from a distance, they usually spent them at school. Many of the ordinary rules were suspended during this time, and the boys were supplied every day with pocket money; consequently the Easter holidays passed very pleasantly, and there was plenty of fun.

It was the great time for excursions all over the island, and the boys would often be out the whole day long among the hills, or about the coast. Eric enjoyed the time particularly, and was in great request among all the boys. He was now more gay and popular than ever, and felt as if nothing were wanting to his happiness. But this brilliant prosperity was not good for him, and he felt continually that he cared far less for the reproaches of conscience than he had done in the hours of his trial; sought far less for help from God than he had done when he was lonely and neglected.

He always knew that his great safeguard was the affection of Russell. For Edwin's sake, and for shame at the thought of Edwin's disapproval, he abstained from many things into which he would otherwise have insensibly glided in conformation to the general looseness of the school morality. But Russell's influence worked on him powerfully, and tended to counteract a multitude of temptations.

Among other undesirable lessons Upton had taught Eric to smoke; and he was now one of those who often spent a part of their holidays in lurking about with pipes in their mouths at places where they were unlikely to be disturbed, instead of joining in some hearty and healthy game. When he began to "learn" smoking, he found it anything but pleasant; but a little practice had made him an adept, and he found a certain amount of enjoyable excitement in finding out cosy places by the river, where he and Upton might go and lounge for an hour to enjoy the forbidden luxury.

In reality, he, like most boys, at first disliked the habit; but it seemed a fine thing to do, and to some, at any rate, it was a refuge from vacuity. Besides, they had a confused notion that there was something "manly" in it, and it derived an additional zest from the stringency of the rules adopted to put it down.

So a number of the boys smoked, and some few of them to such excess as seriously to injure their health, and form a habit which they could never afterwards abandon.

One morning of the Easter holidays, Eric, Montagu, and Russell started for an excursion down the coast to Rilby Head. As they passed through Ellan, Eric was deputed to go and buy Easter eggs and other provisions, as they did not mean to be back for dinner. In about ten minutes he caught up the other two, just as they were getting out of the town.

"What an age you've been, buying a few Easter eggs," said Russell, laughing; "have you been waiting till the hens laid?"

"No; they're not the _only_ things I've got."

"Well, but you might have got all the grub at the same shop."

"Ay; but I've procured a more refined article. Guess what it is."

The two boys didn't guess, and Eric said, to enlighten them, "Will you have a whiff, Monty?"

"A whiff! Oh! I see you've been wasting your tin on cigars--alias, rolled cabbage-leaves. O fumose puer!"

"Well, will you have one?"

"If you like," said Montagu, wavering; "but I don't much care to smoke."

"Well, _I_ shall, at any rate," said Eric, keeping off the wind with his cap, as he lighted a cigar, and began to puff.