“What is this, Hamilton?” said Dr. Wilkinson, turning round. “Do you know any thing of this matter?”
“I would much rather not answer,” said Hamilton, abruptly, “if you will excuse me, sir.”
“I must, however, beg that you will, if you please,” replied the doctor.
“I really know nothing positively, I can say nothing certainly. You would not wish, sir, that any imagination of mine should prejudice you to Louis Mortimer's disadvantage; I am not able to say any thing,” and Hamilton turned away in some confusion, vexed that he should have been appealed to.
Dr. Wilkinson looked half perplexed—he paused a moment and fixed his eyes on the table. Louis ventured to say, “Mr. Hamilton saw a book once before with my lesson books, but I never used it.”
“What do you mean by saw a book?” asked the doctor. “What book did Mr. Hamilton see? How came it there, and why was it there?”
“It was ‘Kenrick's Greek Exercises,’ sir.”
“You mean the ‘Key,’ I suppose?”
Louis answered in the affirmative.
“Whose was it?” asked the doctor, with a countenance more ominous in its expression.