And then, as my mother sank back into her seat, I saw Mrs Doctor take a seat by her side, whisper something, and my mother took her hand.
“Now, Doctor Browne, if you please,” said my uncle in his sharp, quick, military way, “we are all attention, and want to hear the truth of this miserable business before the boy himself.”
“Certainly, Colonel Seaborough,” said the Doctor rather nervously, but he spoke firmly directly after. “I thought it my duty first to ask you to come, as I naturally was most loth to proceed to extremities.”
“Naturally, sir, naturally,” said my uncle sharply. “A prisoner’s allowed a fair court-martial, eh, Rye?”
“Yes, yes, of course,” said the General, and he opened a gold box and took snuff loudly.
As soon as I could tear my eyes from my mother’s, I looked across at the three boys defiantly: at Burr major, who turned his eyes away uneasily; at Dicksee, who was looking at me with a sneering grin upon his countenance, a grin which faded directly into a very uncomfortable look, and he too turned away, and whispered something to Burr major; but by this time my eyes were fixed fiercely upon Mercer, who met my gaze with a pitiful expression, which I read directly to mean, “Don’t, pray don’t say I did it. They’d never forgive me. They will you. Pray, pray, don’t tell!”
I turned from him with a choking sensation of anger rising in my throat, and then stood listening, as all the old business was gone through, much as it had been up in the loft, but with this exception, that in the midst of Burr major’s statement the General gazed at him so fiercely that my school-fellow faltered, and quite blundered through his answers.
“One moment, Doctor Browne,” said the General. “Here, you, sir; you don’t like Frank Burr, do you?”
“Well, sir, I—”
“Answer my question, sir. You don’t like him, do you?”