“He wouldn't answer when I asked him if any other boys were there,” said the matron, a dull red spot coming on either cheek.
“That's bad—very bad,” said Mr. Harrow. “Well, I'll take Joel under my care. Do you go to bed, Mrs. Fox.”
It was all done in a minute. Somehow Mrs. Fox never quite realized how she was left standing alone. And as there really wasn't anything else for her to do, she concluded to take the under-teacher's advice.
“Now, Joel,”—Mr. Harrow looked down at his charge,—“you seem to be left for me to take care of. Well, suppose you come into my room, and tell me something about this affair.”
Joel, with his heart full of distress about David and Tom, now that the immediate cause of alarm over his being put into “Coventry” was gone, could scarcely conceal his dismay, as he followed Mr. Harrow to his room. He soon found himself on a chair; and the under-teacher, setting his candlestick down, took an opposite one.
“Do you mind telling me all about this little affair of yours, Joe?” said Mr. Harrow, leading off easily. His manner, once away from the presence of the matron, was as different as possible; and Joel, who had never met him in just this way, stared in amazement.
“You see, Joe,” the under-teacher went on, and he began to play with some pencils on the table, “it isn't so very long ago, it seems to me, since I was a boy. And I climbed lightning conductors too. I really did, Joel.”
Joel's black eyes gathered a bright gleam in their midst.
“Yes, and at night, too,” said the under-teacher softly, “though I shouldn't want you to mention it to the boys. So now, if you wouldn't mind, Joel, I should really like to hear all about this business of yours.”
But Joel twisted his hands, only able to say, “Oh dear! I can't tell, Mr. Harrow.” His distress was dreadful to see.