“As I do now, sir,” said Hardy, unmoved.
His composure threw Mr. Power into a rage too great for utterance. “Sir,” continued Hardy, “ever since I have been at school, I never told a lie, and therefore, sir, I hope you will believe me now. Upon my word and honour, sir, I have done nothing wrong.”
“Nothing wrong? Better and better! what, when I caught you going out at night?”
“That, to be sure, was wrong,” said Hardy, recollecting himself; “but except that—”
“Except that, sir! I will except nothing. Come along with me, young gentleman, your time for pardon is past.”
Saying these words, he pulled Hardy along a narrow passage to a small closet, set apart for desperate offenders, and usually known by the name of the Black Hole. “There, sir, take up your lodging there for to-night,” said he, pushing him in; “to-morrow I’ll know more, or I’ll know why,” added he, double locking the door, with a tremendous noise, upon his prisoner, and locking also the door at the end of the passage, so that no one could have access to him. “So now I think I have you safe!” said Mr. William Power to himself, stalking off with steps which made the whole gallery resound, and which made many a guilty heart tremble.
The conversation which had passed between Hardy and Mr. Power at the head of the stairs had been anxiously listened to; but only a word or two here and there had been distinctly overheard.
The locking of the black hole door was a terrible sound—some knew not what it portended, and others knew too well. All assembled in the morning with faces of anxiety. Tarlton and Loveit’s were the most agitated: Tarlton for himself, Loveit for his friend, for himself, for everybody. Every one of the party, and Tarlton at their head, surrounded him with reproaches; and considered him as the author of the evils which hung over them. “How could you do so? and why did you say anything to Hardy about it? when you had promised, too! Oh! what shall we all do? what a scrape you have brought us into, Loveit, it’s all your fault!”
“All my fault!” repeated poor Loveit, with a sigh; “well, that is hard.”
“Goodness! there’s the bell,” exclaimed a number of voices at once. “Now for it!” They all stood in a half circle for morning prayers. They listened—“Here he is coming! No—Yes—Here he is!” And Mr. William Power, with a gloomy brow, appeared and walked up to his place at the head of the room. They knelt down to prayers, and the moment they rose, Mr. William Power, laying his hand upon the table, cried, “Stand still, gentlemen, if you please.” Everybody stood stock still; he walked out of the circle; they guessed that he was gone for Hardy, and the whole room was in commotion. Each with eagerness asked each what none could answer, “Has he told?” “What has he told?” “Who has he told of?” “I hope he has not told of me,” cried they.