CHAPTER XXVII
THE OLD FLAG
As the thought went through Paul's mind, the door opened, and Mr. Weevil entered. To Paul's wonder the master fell on his knees beside the bed, and, taking Hibbert's hand in his, murmured:
"Tim, Tim, what have they done to you? Speak, Tim."
The cold nature of the master seemed to have melted as he looked at the unconscious boy. Paul had never heard him call Hibbert by his Christian name before. The ashen lips were moving tremulously. The blinking eyes were fixed tenderly on the boy's face, and—was Paul dreaming?—he thought he saw a tear roll down the master's cheek.
"Why did I leave you to yourself? Speak, Tim, speak," came the pleading tones.
For once Mr. Weevil's self-control had given way. He was strangely moved. Paul was too moved himself at the time to take much notice, but he recalled every incident in that strange scene after. Then, as no answer came to his appeal, the master seemed to wander in his talk, and babbled words in an unknown tongue.
He was still kneeling by the bed, talking in this way, when Dr. Clack, the school doctor, entered. His face remained very grave as he examined his patient.
"It's been a very near thing with him," he said, when he had finished his examination; "but with careful nursing he may pull round."
Paul heard the news with a thankful heart, for he had begun to fear that the case was hopeless. Mr. Weevil had now quite recovered his self-possession, and, leaving the patient in the hands of the doctor and the matron, beckoned Paul to follow him to his room.