Then both of the boys laughed. Alfred remained in his seat and did not even look up. Suddenly the boys, hearing the master coming, ran away.
Mr. Harmer walked up to his desk. Alfred heard him open it and get out his cane.
“Davidson, come here!” he said.
“Please, sir, won’t you believe me?” he pleaded, sobbing bitterly. “I did not, sir, I really did not use those answers. I know you will hurt me, but I don’t mind that if you will only believe me, sir. Please, do this once, sir!”
Alfred could not speak any more. The master stood, cane in hand, and looked at him. His memory went back to his boyhood, and he remembered how he had once stood before his master pleading, as Alfred was pleading at that moment; and he recollected, too, how he had been punished severely, and his innocence proved some months after. Yes, he remembered all this, and that his heart-broken grief did not move his master. He was disgraced until it was proved that he had spoken the truth. He hesitated. Masters do sometimes err in judgment, but it is not often, and he could not believe that Alfred was a boy who would tell a lie and persist in it. He looked at the boy crying, and then put his cane down.
“Davidson,” he said kindly, “I will believe you.”
“Oh, thank you, sir, thank you! I don’t mind being caned now, at least not so much. You have made me so happy, sir.”
“When I forgive a boy, Davidson, I entirely forgive him; so I shall not cane you. I shall wait and watch, and I shall find out some day who used those answers. You must stay in during the interval to-morrow to do three sums for leaving your books about. I will accept no excuses for breaking rules.”
“Thank you, sir,” replied Alfred, looking at his master.
“You may go now, my boy,” said Mr. Harmer, patting his rough, curly hair.