Several days elapsed, and the teacher made no progress in his investigations. At last, Jerry’s seat was vacant, for one entire day, for he now seldom took less than a day at a time, when he played truant. The next morning, he appeared with a note, as usual, which the master read, and put in his desk, without making any remark. Mr. Eaton had noticed that Clinton and Jerry came to school together, that morning, and as he glanced at Clinton, after reading the note, he observed that the latter turned his eye quickly away, and dropped his head, as if afraid to meet the gaze of his teacher. This led Mr. Eaton to watch him more closely, and it was with the deepest pain that he detected an uneasy, anxious appearance in his manners, which he had never before observed. In the course of the forenoon, he stopped a few moments at Clinton’s seat, and conversed familiarly with him about his lessons; but there was a constraint and want of frankness in the boy’s appearance that only served to deepen the master’s painful suspicion.
The truth was, Clinton went to school, that morning, with a vague foreboding that his guilt was about to be brought to light. By some mysterious process, which I cannot explain, a secret impression of approaching evil sometimes weighs heavily upon the mind, without any known cause. This was the case with Clinton, that morning, and the glance which his teacher cast toward him, after reading Jerry’s excuse, sent the conviction to his heart that he was discovered. How easily does guilt betray itself!
School was dismissed as usual, at noon, and again assembled in the afternoon. The master had intended to detain Clinton after school in the forenoon; but the intermission was so short, that he concluded to defer the investigation until afternoon. Just before dismissing the scholars, at night, he went to Clinton’s seat, and in a low tone of voice which no one else heard, requested him to remain after school. Clinton turned red, and then pale, at this unusual request, made in so unusual a manner. After the scholars had all passed out, and the doors were shut, Mr. Eaton called Clinton up to his desk, and taking Jerry’s excuse from the drawer, held it up, and asked him if he knew anything about it.
It was a terrible moment for the unhappy boy. He felt that his guilt had already betrayed itself, and exposure, shame, and punishment were now inevitable. His tongue refused to speak, and after vainly struggling with his emotions a few moments, his pent-up feelings found an outlet in an outburst of tears. His legs trembled beneath him; and throwing himself upon a bench near by, he buried his face in his hands and sobbed bitterly.
Mr. Eaton did not repeat his question—it was already answered. He saw, however, that there was penitence as well as guilt, in the youth before him, and when he spoke to him, it was in a kind and soothing tone. “Clinton,” he said, “I have kept school here three winters, and this is the first time I have ever had to call you to account for a fault. You have always behaved well; if you have done wrong now, I think you must have been led astray by some great temptation. I accidentally discovered, a few days ago, that these notes did not come from Jerry’s mother, and I determined to trace them to their source. I judge from your conduct that you wrote them. If so, I want you to make a clean confession of the affair. If you have really had a hand in this matter, you should consider yourself fortunate that you have been detected, before it went any farther. I have long known Jerry Preston to be a very bad boy, but you are so unlike him that I did not suspect he was leading you on to ruin. Come, wipe your eyes, and tell me the whole history of this matter.”
“Will you promise me one thing?” said Clinton, speaking with considerable difficulty amid his sobs and tears.
“I cannot promise you anything until I know what it is,” replied Mr. Eaton. “What is the promise you refer to?”
“I am willing to tell you the whole story,” added Clinton, “but I don’t want any body else to hear of it.”
“I cannot promise you that,” remarked Mr. Eaton, “for there may be good reasons why the affair should not be kept secret. I will agree, however, to keep it private, provided I think I can properly do so.”
Clinton now proceeded to relate all the circumstances connected with the forged excuses, just as they occurred. He described his fears, his struggles with conscience, the threats of Jerry to run away, and the artifice by which the latter obtained possession of the first note. Nothing was kept back, and as Mr. Eaton listened to the disclosures thus frankly made, and read the sorrow and repentance of Clinton in his looks and tones, he was satisfied that a true account had been given. Clinton himself felt as though a terrible burden had been rolled from his heart, after he had concluded his confession. He breathed freer than he had for several days previous.