“An accessory, it seems, Hodson,” said the Doctor. “You will come to my room directly after dinner, with Mercer and Burr junior. I have not heard the names of the other boys who were present,” continued the Doctor.
“Please, sir, Wilson was one,” cried Dicksee.
“Thank you, Dicksee,” said the Doctor drily, as he fixed him with his glittering glasses; “I am obliged to you. History repeats itself. There has always been one in every confederation ready to betray his fellows to save his own skin. I am afraid, Dicksee, that your skin will not be safe. Were you present, Wilson?”
“Yes, sir,” said the little fellow.
“Fighting?”
“No, sir, I wasn’t fighting; but—”
“But?” said the Doctor; “well, what?”
“Please, sir, I couldn’t help liking it.”
“Humph!” ejaculated the Doctor. “Well, you need not come this time. To resume, I do not know the names of the boys who were present, and I do not want to know. Dicksee was in too great a hurry. Now proceed with your dinner.”
The meal went on, but my face felt more stiff, and my appetite was decidedly worse.