TORN FROM THE BLACK BOOK
Mr. Weevil came to his desk. The other masters took up their positions at the head of the different forms. Mr. Weevil half closed his eyes for an instant; then, opening them, fixed them fully upon the eager boys before him as he said:
"I have a few words to say to you before work commences, boys, and I regret to say they are not of a very pleasant character. A most discreditable act—a criminal act—has been committed since we last met in this hall. This desk"—he turned from the boys to the desk, and brought his hand down upon it sharply—"has been forced open during the night, and five pages torn from the Black Book. That is not all. Admiral Talbot—one of the esteemed governors of this school—has offered a valuable prize, as you are all aware, for the best essay on 'The Invasion of Great Britain.' I have taken a great interest in the subject, and had prepared a few notes, together with a rough plan of the attempt made by the Dutch under Admiral Tromp to reach these shores. Those notes have gone."
The boys glanced from one to the other as Mr. Weevil paused. Who was guilty? They had no great love for the Black Book, for in the pages of that black-bound ledger were entered the names of every culprit who had been guilty of breaking the rules and had received punishment at the hands of the masters. It could be brought forward at any time in evidence against them. They would willingly have stood by and seen it burnt, but forcing open the master's desk, stealing from it important papers, and tearing leaves from the dreaded book was another matter. It was theft—theft, too, under its worst guise, for the desk had been opened at night-time, when the rest of the school were supposed to be sleeping.
"The last entry I made in this book," went on Mr. Weevil, holding up the Black Book, "was last evening, immediately after school was over. I had entered in it the reason of my sending Moncrief to Dormitory X. Before returning the book to its place, I glanced through my notes; then placed the book on top of them, and locked the desk. I entered the room about half-past eight this morning, and, on going to my desk, at once found that it had been opened—for what despicable purpose I have explained to you. In the absence of Dr. Colville, I consulted with my colleagues—your masters. That is the reason why the school has not commenced at the usual hour. We have looked at the matter in every way, and can only come to the conclusion that some one amongst you has been guilty of this petty felony. The culprit is pretty well sure to be found out in the long run, so that it will be much better for him to speak up now. The longer he keeps silent, the heavier will be his punishment. Now, then, I am waiting."
Deep silence fell upon the school. Still, the boys glanced from one to the other. Parfitt flashed a look along the form to where Paul was sitting. Baldry quietly pinched Plunger, and Plunger returned the compliment by kicking him under the form; but no word broke the silence.
Failing to get an answer to his appeal, Mr. Weevil tried another plan.
"Did any boy leave his dormitory after lights were out last night?"
A struggle went on in Paul's breast for a moment. Should he speak, or should he remain silent? If he spoke he would bring upon himself the terrible suspicion that he had broken open the master's desk, and had torn out the leaves in which were recorded the punishment of Stanley Moncrief. It was well known also that he was one of the competitors for the essay prize.
And then if he confessed the real reason of his absence from his dormitory, who would believe him? Certainly not Mr. Weevil. How could he convince him that he was in Dormitory X that night, for had he not crawled under the bed at the time he looked in? Should he speak—should he speak? Again and again Paul asked himself the question. Why should he? What had his absence from his dormitory to do with the theft from the master's desk? He had been nowhere near the master's desk, so what was the use of speaking? Looking up, he caught the glance of Parfitt.