“It was the one you took from Harrison, sir,” replied Louis.
“Humph! I thought I took it away. Bring it here.” Louis obeyed, and the doctor having looked at it, continued, “Well, you had this with your lesson books, you say. How did it come there?”
“One of the boys gave it to me, sir,” replied Louis.
“And why did you not put it away?”
“I was going, sir;” and the color rushed into Louis' pale face. “I did not use it—and I hope I should not.”
“Who left the book?” asked Dr. Wilkinson.
“Churchill, sir.”
“Call Churchill, Salisbury.”
Salisbury obeyed; and during his absence a profound silence reigned in the room, for all the first class were watching the proceedings in deep interest. Dr. Wilkinson seemed lost in thought; and Louis, in painful anxiety, scanned the strongly marked countenance of his master, now wearing its most unpleasing mask, and those of Hamilton and Trevannion, alternately. Hamilton did not look at him, but bent over a table at a book, the leaves of which he nervously turned. Trevannion eyed him haughtily as he leaned in his most graceful attitude against the wall behind the doctor's chair; and poor Louis read his condemnation in his eyes, as well as in the faces of most present.
Salisbury at length returned with Churchill, who was the more awe-struck at the unwonted summons, as he was so low in the school as seldom to have any business with the principal.