"Go to your room, sir!" Dr. Litter said, with indignation, "this continued denial is almost worse than the offence."
Without a word Frank rose and left the library.
"This is indeed a shocking business," Mr. Wire said, as he followed Dr. Litter to the schoolroom.
"I cannot credit it," Mr. Richards put in; "I know him so well, that, absolutely conclusive as I allow the evidence to be, I still hesitate to believe him to be guilty."
After school was over Fred Barkley ran up to his cousin's room.
"My dear Frank," he exclaimed, "we are ordered not to communicate with you, but I could not help running in to tell you that every one believes you to be innocent."
"I hardly know whether I believe it myself," Frank said bitterly. "But you can do something for me, Fred; I have written a line to my uncle, will you post it for me at once?"
"Certainly," Fred replied; "but there is some one coming upstairs, so I must be off." He took the letter and was gone. It contained only a few words:—
"My dear Uncle,—If you believe me innocent of this hideous charge, which I swear to you I am not guilty of, send me one line by hand when you get this. As long as I know that you have faith in me I can face it out."
The afternoon passed slowly to the prisoner. His uncle would get the letter between three and four, and he might have an answer half an hour afterwards. Hour after hour passed, and, except the servant who brought up his tea, no one came near him. He reasoned to himself that his uncle might be out. At eight o'clock he heard a noise on the stairs; a number of feet approached his room, and then the door opened, and the whole of the boys in the boarding-house poured in.