V
“What can I give that child to read to-day?” asked Challis at breakfast next morning.
“I should reverse the arrangement; let him sit on the Dictionary and read the Encyclopædia.” Lewes always approached the subject of the Wonder with a certain supercilious contempt.
“You are not convinced yet that he isn’t humbugging?”
“No! Frankly, I’m not.”
“Well, well, we must wait for more evidence, before we argue about it,” said Challis, but they sat on over the breakfast-table, waiting for the child to put in an appearance, and their conversation hovered over the topic of his intelligence.
“Half-past ten?” Challis ejaculated at last, with surprise. “We are getting into slack habits, Lewes.” He rose and rang the bell.
“Apparently the Stott infant has had enough of it,” suggested Lewes. “Perhaps he has exhausted the interest of dictionary illustrations.”
“We shall see,” replied Challis, and then to a deferentially appearing Heathcote he said: “Has Master Stott come this morning?”
“No, sir. Leastways, no one ’asn’t let ’im in, sir.”
“It may be that he is mentally collating the results of the past two days’ reading,” said Challis, as he and Lewes made their way to the library.
“Oh!” was all Lewes’s reply, but it conveyed much of impatient contempt for his employer’s attitude.
Challis only smiled.
When they entered the library they found the Wonder hard at work, and he had, of his own initiative, adopted the plan ironically suggested by Lewes, for he had succeeded in transferring the Dictionary volumes to the chair, and he was deep in volume one, of the eleventh edition of the Encyclopædia Britannica.
The library was never cleared up by any one except Challis or his deputy, but an early housemaid had been sent to dust, and she had left the casement of one of the lower lights of the window open. The means of the Wonder’s entrance was thus clearly in evidence.
“It’s Napoleonic,” murmured Challis.
“It’s most infernal cheek,” returned Lewes in a loud voice, “I should not be at all surprised if that promised shaking were not administered to-day.”
The Wonder took no notice. Challis says that on that morning his eyes were travelling down the page at about the rate at which one could count the lines.
“He isn’t reading,” said Lewes. “No one could read as fast as that, and most certainly not a child of four and a half.”
“If he would only answer questions....” hesitated Challis.
“Oh! of course he won’t do that,” said Lewes. “He’s clever enough not to give himself away.”
The two men went over to the table and looked down over the child’s shoulder. He was in the middle of the article on algebra.
Lewes made a gesture. “Now do you believe he’s humbugging?” he asked confidently, and made no effort to modulate his voice.
Challis drew his eyebrows together. “My boy,” he said, and laid his hand lightly on Victor Stott’s shoulder, “can you understand what you are reading there?”
But no answer was vouchsafed. Challis sighed. “Come along, Lewes,” he said; “we must waste no more time.”
Lewes wore a look of smug triumph as they went to the farther room, but he was clever enough to refrain from expressing his triumph in speech.