The morning passed, and before it was over, while all the school was busy in class, Silk left Willoughby. His father had arrived by an early train, and after a long interview with the doctor had returned taking his boy with him. No one saw him before he went, and for none of those whom he had wronged and misled did he leave behind any message of regret or contrition. He simply dropped out of Willoughby life, lamented by none, and missed only by a few who had suffered under his influence and were now far better without him.
After morning classes the doctor summoned the school to the great hall, and there briefly announced the changes that had taken place.
“Two boys,” said he, “are absent to-day—absent because they have left Willoughby for good. Now that they are gone, I need not dwell on the harm they have done, except to warn any boys present, who may be tempted to follow in their steps, of the disgrace and shame which always follow vice and dishonesty.”
There was a great stir and looking round as the doctor reached this point. He had not yet announced the names, though most present were able to guess them.
“It’s not you two, then?” whispered Telson across the bench to where Cusack and Pilbury sat in mutual perplexity.
“Two things at least are comforting in what has passed,” continued the doctor. “One is that by the confession of these two boys a very unpleasant mystery, which affected the honour of the whole school, has been cleared up; I mean, of course, the accident at the boat-race early in the term.”
It was then, that! Willoughby bristled up with startled eagerness to hear the rest, and even Telson found no joke ready to hand.
“The other consolation is that one of the boys, Gilks—”
There was a sudden half-suppressed exclamation as the name was announced, which disconcerted the doctor for a moment.
“Gilks,” pursued he, “expressed deep contrition for what he had done, and wished, when leaving, that the school should know of his shame and sorrow. He left here a softened and, I hope, a changed boy; and I feel sure this appeal to the generosity of his old schoolfellows will secure for him what he most desires—your forgiveness.”