“Certainly, sir,” said both boys.
“It was our duty to tell you, sir,” said Scarfe; “and only fair to poor young Forrester.”
“Nothing less than a sense of duty could justify the bringing of such a terrible accusation,” said the head-master, “and I am relieved that you are prepared to repeat it publicly—to-morrow. For to-day, let us thank God for the hope He gives us of the poor sufferer. Good-bye.”
Much as he could have wished it, it was impossible for Mr Frampton, wearied out as he was with his night’s watching, to dismiss from his mind the serious statement which his two senior boys had made. The responsibility which rested on him in consequence was terrible, and it required all his courage to face it.
That afternoon he sent for Mr Freshfield, and repeated to him the substance of the accusation against Jeffreys, asking him if he had noticed anything calculated to confirm the suspicion expressed by the boys.
Mr Freshfield was naturally very much startled.
“If you had not mentioned it,” he said, “I should never have dreamed of such a thing. But I confess I have noticed that Forrester and Jeffreys were on bad terms. Forrester is a mischievous boy, and Jeffreys, who you know is rather a lout, seems to have been his special butt. I am afraid, too, that Jeffreys’ short temper rather encouraged his tormentors.”
“Yes, but about the accident,” said Mr Frampton; “you were on the ground, you know. Did you notice anything then?”
“There was a little horseplay as the sides were changing over at half-time. Forrester, among others, was taunting Jeffreys with a bad piece of play, and threw something at him. I was rather struck by the look almost of fury which passed across Jeffreys’ face. But it seemed to me he got better of his feelings with an effort and went on without heeding what was said to him.”
“That was not long before the accident?”