Chapter 15

THE BITERS BIT.

Excitement in school--Expecting a row--The doctor speaks--Deliberate falsehood--The truth comes out--The two culprits--Manly confession--Mr Franklyn speaks--Honest shame--Egerton convicted--The doctor's speech--Warburton caned--Egerton birched--Justification.

The bright fresh summer hour of seven, the following morning, was very different in the barn where Harry had taken up his abode to what it was at the grammar-school. In the former, it saw the tired lonely boy sleeping heavily, his face stained with tears; in the latter, a great stir and confusion. Campbell had run away. The search in the night had been fruitless; and to add to the general excitement, that morning the Examiner was to commence the _viva voce_ part of the examination. The hour of preparation, from seven to eight, was not a very industrious one. Boys were too full of surmises, and Mr Prichard, who happened that morning to be in charge of the school-room, was too much disturbed about Harry's disappearance to pay much attention to the whispers which were spreading through the room. Breakfast, too, was by no means the usual ordinarily quiet meal.

The only boys who betrayed any symptoms of nervousness or uneasiness (all were excited, of course) were those who had joined Egerton and Warburton in their assault on Harry the previous night.

These looked guilty; but their ringleaders preserved the utmost coolness and indifference; and a casual observer, if asked, would have said, "Well, if there are two boys more than any others who certainly have nothing to do with the whole affair, those two are Egerton and Warburton."

So much for guilt, and the mask it can so well assume.

Before the nine o'clock bell had ceased ringing, every boy was in his place in the big school-room--a rare occurrence, indeed--waiting eagerly for the appearance of the Doctor. For boys like nothing better than a "row" when they themselves are not implicated. And remember, those who were so implicated were but an exceedingly small fraction of the whole number. What the guilty ones felt will best be known by those who have been in a similar position.

Dr Palmer entered with the Examiner, a fresh-coloured young man, in a very new gown, and a very new hood, thrown jauntily over his shoulders. The doctor was grave and stern, and looked at nobody. The Examiner played with his watch-chain, and looked at everybody, running his eyes rapidly along the different desks and forms. And the other masters followed in due order. And, when all were in their respective places, prayers were said, and Dr Palmer, amid breathless silence, spoke as follows:

"You are most of you, if not all, aware of what occurred last night. One of your number, Campbell, has, in a fit of rashness and haste, run away, and as yet has not been found. There must be some special reason for this;" and the Doctor paused and looked round the room. "I left him in my study at half-past seven last night, having his tea, and as happy as he could be under the sad circumstances of his mother's death." And his voice trembled; "On reaching home a few minutes after nine I find he has disappeared. The dormitory, in which he slept, is discovered in a disgraceful state of disorder and confusion. The boys who sleep there must have an explanation to give. On another matter with regard to Campbell, I shall have to speak presently." And again the dignified voice was broken with ill-concealed emotion. "Sit down, all of you, except those who sleep in No. 7 dormitory."

The order was obeyed, and the sixteen stood in their places, the observed of all eyes.

"Egerton, you are eldest in the dormitory. Did you do anything, or see anything done, that might provoke Campbell to this rash act?"

"No, sir; nothing at all," answered Egerton, fearlessly.

"You did not interfere with him in any way?"

Egerton hesitated. "No, sir, I didn't. I didn't even speak to him. It wasn't likely after what he said of me to you."

"That will do," said Doctor Palmer, in a strange tone. "You may sit down. Warburton!"

"Yes, sir!"

"Did you interfere with Campbell in any way last night?"

"No, sir, not at all," answered Warburton.

"Sit down!" again said the Doctor.

Two deliberate liars out of sixteen is a large proportion, and it is not to be supposed that there would be more such. The rest would either maintain a frightened silence or tell the truth. Fortunately, the boy next questioned was one of the latter class. And his fearless answer gave courage to the rest.

"Yes, sir, I did. I pulled his bed out into the room and upset it," answered Williams, when the same question was put to him. And before the Doctor could say a word, the remaining three implicated with Egerton, Warburton, and Williams, confessed their share in the matter. The rest denied, with truth, having done anything to Campbell, and were told to sit down.

Those who had confessed were then called into the centre of the room and further questioned as to who commenced the attack on Campbell, and what was the cause of it.

Williams looked at the other three who stood with him, and the three looked at Williams; and all got very red, and said nothing.

The Doctor repeated his question.

The boys hesitated, and looked doubtfully towards Egerton and Warburton, to see if they would come forward; but no! the two preserved the same stolid demeanour. So at length Williams told the whole story, not exculpating himself in the least degree, but only saying how sorry he was; and the others confirmed his statement.

"Egerton and Warburton, stand out. Do you hear what Williams says? Do you still deny the charge brought against you?"

The room was breathless. The two culprits turned deadly pale, and began to stammer out what was partially denial, partially excuse. And then in an abject tone implored forgiveness.

Doctor Palmer took no notice of their entreaties, but mentioned to them to stand by his desk. The other four he dismissed to their seats.

He then addressed the whole assemblage of boys and masters:

"I have now another matter of very serious moment to speak to you about. A great injustice has been done to Campbell--an injustice which has in a measure contributed, I fear, to his reasons for running away. To set you an example of the manliness of confession, I tell you openly, and Mr Prichard wishes me to say the same for him, that we--he and I--have made a great mistake, and judged and punished Campbell unjustly. You will understand that I am referring to the book found in his possession during the examination. At the same time, I wish you all fully to understand that appearances went decidedly against Campbell, and evidence proved his guilt. And it was acting upon these appearances and this evidence that we punished him. Mr Franklyn, however, will kindly explain the matter to you;" and the Doctor sat down overcome by excitement and emotion.

And then Mr Franklyn (the Examiner), after a preliminary "ahem!" spoke to the boys in a clear ringing voice, going straight to the point without any introductory remarks.

"On Tuesday last I received the papers done by you on Monday morning. With those of the Lower Third Form came a note from Mr Prichard, saying that he had sent with the papers a book--a Delectus translation ('Crib' as you would call it)--which he had found in Campbell's possession during the examination. And he requested me, and very properly, too, to take the necessary steps respecting Campbell's place in his class. Here, however, Mr Prichard begs me to plainly state the mistake he made. He did not compare the papers sent in, with the translation of the book. This would at once have acquitted Campbell. For I at once emphatically say that, even if the book were his, he never used it during the examination. His work was correct, but boyish in style. The rendering of the book is the work of a man. So much, then, is clear, that of the charge of using the book during the examination, Campbell is perfectly innocent; and I only wish he were here to hear me say so."

At these words all reverence for masters was thrown aside, and the vehement clapping of hands soon showed that Harry's good name was once more firmly established, and not only established, but that his clearance gave joy to the school.

"But," resumed Mr Franklyn, when the noise had abated, "to make assurance doubly sure, I will go a step further, and tell you who _did_ use the book during the examination."

With a sort of presentiment of what was coming, all eyes were turned upon Egerton; while in the hearts of many a feeling of shame--honest, good-producing shame--sprang up for the unkind part they had played to Harry.

"On turning to Egerton's papers," continued Mr Franklyn, "I at once detected a strong similarity to the translation I had just examined; and on a close comparison found his translation coincided word for word with the book found in Campbell's possession, and which he was accused of using. Whether the book belongs to Egerton or not, I do not know; but this is evident, that it was he, and not Campbell, who was guilty of taking unfair advantage of his companions. How the book came into Campbell's desk I know not. But as Egerton has been, in these two matters, convicted of telling a wilful untruth, I am ready to believe him capable of any further deceitful conduct to screen himself. It rests with Doctor Palmer to conclude this most painful affair."

As Mr Franklyn ended, and resumed his seat, there was a mixed murmur, partly from pleasure at Harry's innocence, partly from an impulse, which seemed to take possession of all, of snatching the punishment of Egerton out of the lawful hands.

The noise, however, instantly ceased when Doctor Palmer rose.

"None of you can be more glad than I am," he said, "that Campbell's innocence has been fully proved, and none of you more sorry than I, that he has been punished unjustly. At the same time, you must clearly understand that the mistake, which Mr Prichard and I made, does not in the least degree exonerate Egerton. He has done that for which I punished Campbell; removing as he thought all traces of his guilt, and throwing them on another's shoulders. And then, not merely to screen himself, but to ruin that other, he tells one deliberate lie after another. Not content even with that, he provokes the innocent boy whose reputation he had blasted, and the result you all know. Those who joined in bullying Campbell last night, I forgive. They have confessed. Warburton has not done so. For his lie, I punish him."

And then, calling Warburton, he caned him severely before the whole school, a punishment but rarely adopted, and once only remembered to have taken place by the elder boys.

"With regard to Egerton," he resumed, "there is but one course for me to adopt." And he rang a bell which communicated with his house, and, after a breathless pause of about three minutes, William entered, bearing a birch, with an expression of mock gravity on his countenance. Egerton's appearance was one of abject meanness; his indifference was all gone; he was the picture of trembling, tearful cowardice.

The birch had never been used in the recollection of any of the boys. It had only existed--a shadowy terror. But now that it appeared in all its stern dignity, Egerton, the destined recipient, fell on his knees, and, with streaming eyes--coward as he was--begged imploringly for forgiveness.

It was not likely his cries would be of any avail. Nor, indeed, were they. Nor would the Doctor prolong the sickening scene. The birch did its duty, and well.

In five minutes Egerton had been birched in such a manner that every one thought he would certainly never forget it till his dying day. Egerton himself was too "personally affected" to think of anything, but contented himself with howling lustily. And finally he heard the Doctor's voice, telling him he was expelled, and would leave the school in two hours.

"There will be no more work to-day," said Doctor Palmer, when he had recovered breath from his exertions. "Besides the pleasure of proclaiming Campbell's innocence, I have to add that Mr Franklyn tells me his papers were far superior to those of the rest of his class; and that, judging from them, he would have easily maintained his position as head boy, had he not left us of his own accord, provoked and ill-treated, I cordially allow. I only trust we may be able to discover him, and have him once more among us. You see, boys," he added affectionately, "truth and innocence will always right themselves sooner or later."

And then, as the masters left the room, there rose the loud ringing cheers that English boys know so well to give. The innocent was justified; the guilty punished! Was not that enough to make all hearts glad?

But meantime, he, whom all this most chiefly concerned, still slept in the barn on his bed of hay, a dreamless sleep, unconscious alike of sorrow and of that which might have changed the whole colour of his life--the removing of the burden of guilt which had weighed him down. But it had come too late. Was it better so? Maybe it was.