The little fellow—stunted of his age—swung sharply round; and they saw that his eyes were brimming over as he looked reproachfully from one to the other.
“I didn’t want to be a bad un, sir,” he said. “I did try, and—and—and—I’ll stop here, please, and—”
He could say no more, for his face was working, and, at last, in shame and agony of spirit, he covered his face with his hands, and let himself drop in a heap on the stone floor, sobbing hysterically.
“Coleby! Stand up, sir!” cried the master sternly.
“Let him be, Mr Hippetts, if you please,” said the doctor, with dignity; and he drew in a long breath, and remained for some moments silent, while the whole school stared with wondering eyes, and the two masters exchanged glances.
“Strange boy,” said Mr Hippetts.
Then the doctor bent down slowly, and laid his hand upon the lad’s shoulder.
The little fellow started up, flinching as if from a blow, but as soon as he saw who had touched him, he rose to his knees, and caught quickly at the doctor’s extended hand, while the look in the visitor’s eyes had so strange an influence upon him that he continued to gaze wonderingly in the stern but benevolent face.
“I think you’ll come with me?” said the doctor.
“Yes, I’d come. But may I?”