“You shall return from the playground, all of you,” said Dr. Middleton, “one quarter of an hour sooner, for two months to come, than the rest of your companions. A bell shall ring at the appointed time. I give you an opportunity of recovering my confidence by your punctuality.”
“Oh, sir! we will come the instant, the very instant the bell rings; you shall have confidence in us,” cried they, eagerly.
“I deserve your confidence, I hope,” said Dr. Middleton; “for it is my first wish to make you all happy. You do not know the pain that it has cost me to deprive you of food for so many hours.”
Here the boys, with one accord, ran to the place where they had deposited their last supplies. Archer delivered them up to the doctor, proud to show that they were not reduced to obedience merely by necessity.
“The reason,” resumed Dr. Middleton, having now returned to the usual benignity of his manner—“the reason why I desired that none of you should go to that building,” pointing out of the window, “was this:—I had been informed that a gang of gipsies had slept there the night before I spoke to you, one of whom was dangerously ill of a putrid fever. I did not choose to mention my reason to you or your friends. I have had the place cleaned, and you may return to it when you please. The gipsies were yesterday removed from the town.”
“De Grey, you were in the right,” whispered Archer, “and it was I that was unjust.”
“The old woman,” continued the doctor, “whom you employed to buy food, has escaped the fever, but she has not escaped a gaol, whither she was sent yesterday, for having defrauded you of your money.
“Mr. Fisher,” said Dr. Middleton, “as to you, I shall not punish you; I have no hope of making you either wiser or better. Do you know this paper?”—the paper appeared to be a bill for candles and a tinder-box.
“I desired him to buy those things, sir,” said Archer, colouring.
“And did you desire him not to pay for them?”