“You, Haggart—you?” he said, in an incredulous voice. “Impossible! You?” said the Doctor again.
“Yes, sir.”
“Then there is nothing more to be said—now. Only, I am surprised, and—disappointed. You can go now; you will sleep to-night in the small spare room, and I will see you to-morrow. Go!”
Haggart moved slowly to the door, and as he turned the handle, he heard a noise, and then the Doctor’s voice, speaking sharply: “What is that? What are they doing on the fourth form?”
“Harry Parker has a fit, or he’s dead, or something,” said a scared voice.
“No, he has only fainted,” said Mr Barclay. “Take him to Miss Simpson, Barclay,” said the Doctor. “He is a delicate little fellow.”
“Wasn’t there a fellow called something Curtius, who saved a city once?” said a first-form boy, in a whisper.
“Yes; he leaped into a gulf.”
“Well, that’s what Haggart’s done,” said the boy.