Eric; Or, Little by Little

by F. W. Farrar

"No, but I'll get Llewellyn's."

"Come along then."

So the little boy of twelve took the initiative, and, carrying the dark lantern, instructed the two study-boys of sixteen in a secret which had long been known to the lower part of the school.

"Ibant obscuri dubiâ sub luce." He led them quietly down stairs, stole with them noiselessly past the library door, and took them to a window in the passage, where a pane was broken.

"Could you get through that?" he whispered to Eric, "if we broke away the rest of the glass?"

"I don't know. But, then, there's the bar outside."

"Oh, I'll manage that. But will you go and peep through the key-hole of the library, and see who's there, Duncan?"

"No," said Duncan, bluntly, "no key-holes for me."

"Hush! then I will," and he glided away, while Eric, as quietly as he could, broke away the glass until it was all removed.

"There's only old Stupid," whispered he, irreverently designating an under-master named Harley, "and he's asleep before the fire. Now, then, just lift me up, Eric, will you?"