And Charlton—ah, Ralph could not help thinking that Charlton knew something about this. He seemed so strange, so different and hesitating. He felt like challenging him to tell the truth, but something, he was not quite clear what, made him hesitate. It was bad enough to be suspected himself, and he was a fairly strong boy, able to take his own part, but what would timid, weakly Charlton feel if the suspicion were thrown upon him?
"I won't do anything to let him think that I suspect him, until I can be sure that I have good grounds for suspicion," Ralph reflected.
And then he paused. And if he had those good grounds, what then? Suppose that he could even be certain that Charlton was the culprit, what then? The boy would have taken the money for his mother in all likelihood, and——
Ralph shrugged his shoulders and turned resolutely to his work, and, though plenty there believed that he was guilty, there was such a look upon that strong young face that they forbore to speak their opinions directly to him, but only revealed them by cutting him contemptuously whenever he chanced to be in their company.
But he was not left without comforters. Mr. Delermain took the opportunity to speak with him quietly, and as he placed one hand gently upon the strong young shoulder, and looked gravely into the face, now somewhat clouded with its sorrow, the kindly master said—
"Rexworth, my dear boy, I could find it in my heart to wish that I had never mentioned this loss."
"I do not, sir," answered Ralph quickly. "If the thing has been done it ought to be mentioned, no matter upon whom the blame may fall. It is rather hard to feel that so many of the boys believe that I have done it, but then, you see, I was in your room, and things look black, and I have no means of proving that my story of some one having passed me is really true."
"I would that we had any clue to that," observed the master. "If we could only find out who that was! You have no suspicion, Ralph?"
And he glanced into the boy's eyes.
"No sir." Then Ralph hesitated. That was not quite true. He had a suspicion. "I would rather not talk of it, sir," he answered, after a pause. "Perhaps it is not quite right to say that I have no suspicion, but it is only a suspicion, and I have no right to talk about it, seeing that I have no solid grounds to go upon. I am accused solely upon suspicion, and I know how hard it is."