Mr. Bernard did not for a moment suspect that Joe's confusion was the result of guilt; but knowing the boy so well, he felt sure that he had some knowledge of the offender, and that the knowledge was a burden.
After another glance along the seats where the older boys sat, the teacher said, very soberly, and with a peculiar look in his searching eyes: "Is it possible that we have a liar amongst us? A LIAR!"
The boys shrank visibly from this plain speaking, but the teacher repeated it slowly, "A LIAR!"
A lie was a deadly sin with Mr. Bernard, and the boy who would tell a deliberate falsehood he considered mean enough and bad enough for any wickedness.
He was a "liar," and no other word would describe him, even if he wore the finest broadcloth, or stood at the head of the class. The word had been spoken almost in a whisper, but with such emphasis that it seemed to ring through the school-room, and to come echoing back from the four walls.
Every honest boy felt thankful that the word could not apply to him; and some who had never considered an untruth a very shocking thing felt they would never be guilty of another.
To the astonishment of all, after another silence, in which the echo of the terrible word seemed still sounding through the room, Mr. Bernard said quietly, "You are dismissed."
The matter was surely a serious one when they were dismissed so early in the day with lessons unheard. The boys passed out in silence, most of them forgetting to be glad of a holiday.
Not till they were out of the building did any boy venture even to whisper to his neighbour.
Some retired at once to their rooms; but most of the pupils gathered in knots on the playground, to talk over the subject uppermost in the minds of all.