The tutor shook his head.
“We must look troubles in the face, Frayne,” he said. “If matters come to the worst, there must be an inquest, and, whatever you may say, your fellow-pupils’ words will have weight.”
Richard literally staggered, and gazed wildly at the heavy face of his tutor, who went on slowly—
“It is a terrible business, Frayne, and a fearful blow for me. I cannot blame myself. I always treat those who study with me as gentlemen, and if the poor fellow upstairs does sink, the consequences must be crushing for you.”
“Never mind me, sir; let’s think of my cousin. He must get better! There, I can think more clearly now. It is as if my head does not feel so shut up and strange. I won’t try to defend myself, sir; but Andrews and Sinjohn are wrong. I am innocent.”
“But you struck your cousin down.”
“Yes, sir; I was nearly mad with passion.”
“Ah!” sighed the tutor.
“But it was in fair fighting, sir!”
“I am afraid, Frayne, it is manslaughter; and now let us bring this painful interview to a close. You will have the goodness to go up to your room, and to stay there until I ask you to come down. Stop! I think it would be better for you to have legal advice. This is all so new to me!”