Jeffreys opened the letter and read:—
“Bolsover, October 12.
“S. Halgrove, Esq.
“Dear Sir,—I regret to inform you that your ward, John Jeffreys, left Bolsover secretly last night, and has not up to the present moment returned. If he has returned to you, you will probably have learned by this time the circumstances which led him to take the step he has. (Here Mr Frampton briefly repeated the story of the football accident.) The patient still lingers, although the doctors do not at present hold out much hope of ultimate recovery. I am not inclined to credit the statement current in the school with regard to the sad event, that the injury done to the small boy was not wholly due to accident. Still, under the grave circumstances, which are made all the more serious by your ward’s flight, I suggest to you that you should use your authority to induce Jeffreys to return here—at any rate for as long as Forrester’s fate remains precarious; or, failing that, that you should undertake, in the event of a legal inquiry being necessary, that he shall be present if required.
“Faithfully yours,—
“T. Frampton.”
“Pleasant letter, is it not?” said Mr Halgrove as Jeffreys replaced it in its envelope and laid it again on the table.
“I can’t go back to Bolsover,” said he.
“No? You think you are not appreciated there?”
Jeffreys winced.