There was a general silence.
“I think it must be so,” Mr. Porson went on more gravely. “If the boy who has it will give it up I shall not be angry, as, if I left it on the desk, there would be no harm in taking it to look at the pictures.”
Still there was silence.
“I value the book,” Mr. Porson went on, “not only because it is an expensive work, but because it is a prize which I won at Durham.”
He paused a moment, and then said in a stern voice: “Let every boy open his desk.”
The desks were opened, and Mr. Porson walked round and glanced at each.
“This is a serious matter now,” he said. “Ripon, will you come to the study with me and help me to search again. It is possible it may still be there and I may have overlooked it. The rest will remain in their places till I return.”
There was a buzz of conversation while the master was absent. On his return he said:
“The book is certainly not there. The bookshelves are all so full that it could only have been put in its own place or laid upon the table. Ripon and I have searched the room thoroughly and it is certainly not there. Now, boys, this is a serious business. In the first place, I will give a last chance to whoever may have taken it to rise in his place and confess it.”
He paused, and still all were silent.