The Channings | Page 5

the
head-master. "It is incredible to suppose any one of you would
wantonly destroy a surplice. If so, let that boy, whoever he may have

been, speak up honourably, and I will forgive him. I conclude that the
ink must have been spilt upon it, I say accidentally, and that he then, in
his consternation, tumbled the surplice together, and threw it out of
sight behind the screen. It had been more straightforward, more in
accordance with what I wish you all to be--boys of thorough truth and
honour--had he candidly confessed it. But the fear of the moment may
have frightened his better judgment away. Let him acknowledge it now,
and I will forgive him; though of course he must pay Bywater for
another surplice."
A dead silence.
"Do you hear, boys?" the master sternly asked.
No answer from any one; nothing but continued silence. The master
rose, and his countenance assumed its most severe expression.
"Hear further, boys. That it is one of you, I am convinced; and your
refusing to speak compels me to fear that it was not an accident, but a
premeditated, wicked act. I now warn you, whoever did it, that if I can
discover the author or authors, he or they shall be punished with the
utmost severity, short of expulsion, that is allowed by the rules of the
school. Seniors, I call for your aid in this. Look to it."
The master left the schoolroom, and Babel broke loose--questioning,
denying, protesting, one of another. Bywater was surrounded.
"Won't there be a stunning flogging? Bywater, who did it? Do you
know?"
Bywater sat himself astride over the end of a bench, and nodded. The
senior boy turned to him, some slight surprise in his look and tone.
"Do you know, Bywater?"
"Pretty well, Gaunt. There are two fellows in this school, one's at your
desk, one's at the second desk, and I believe they'd either of them do me
a nasty turn if they could. It was one of them."
"Who do you mean?" asked Gaunt eagerly.
Bywater laughed. "Thank you. If I tell now, it may defeat the ends of
justice, as the newspapers say. I'll wait till I am sure--and then, let him
look to himself. I won't spare him, and I don't fancy Pye will."
"You'll never find out, if you don't find out at once, Bywater," cried
Hurst.
"Shan't I? You'll see," was the significant answer. "It's some distance
from here to the vestry of the cathedral, and a fellow could scarcely

steal there and steal back without being seen by somebody. It was done
stealthily, mark you; and when folks go on stealthy errands they are
safe to be met."
Before he had finished speaking, a gentlemanly-looking boy of about
twelve, with delicate features, a damask flush on his face, and wavy
auburn hair, sprang up with a start. "Why!" he exclaimed, "I saw--"
And there he came to a sudden halt, and the flush on his cheek grew
deeper, and then faded again. It was a face of exceeding beauty, refined
almost as a girl's, and it had gained for him in the school the sobriquet
of "Miss."
"What's the matter with you, Miss Charley?"
"Oh, nothing, Bywater."
"Charley Channing," exclaimed Gaunt, "do you know who did it?"
"If I did, Gaunt, I should not tell," was the fearless answer.
"Do you know, Charley?" cried Tom Channing, who was one of the
seniors of the school.
"Where's the good of asking that wretched little muff?" burst forth
Gerald Yorke. "He's only a girl. How do you know it was not one of the
lay-clerks, Bywater? They carry ink in their pockets, I'll lay. Or any of
the masons might have gone into the vestry, for the matter of that."
"It wasn't a lay-clerk, and it wasn't a mason," stoically nodded Bywater.
"It was a college boy. And I shall lay my finger upon him as soon as I
am a little bit surer than I am. I am three parts sure now."
"If Charley Channing does not suspect somebody, I'm not here,"
exclaimed Hurst, who had closely watched the movement alluded to;
and he brought his hand down fiercely on the desk as he spoke. "Come,
Miss Channing, just shell out what you know; it's a shame the
choristers should lie under such a ban: and of course we shall do so,
with Pye."
"You be quiet, Hurst, and let Miss Charley alone," drawled Bywater. "I
don't want him, or anybody else to get pummelled to powder; I'll find it
out for myself, I say. Won't my old aunt be in a way though, when she
sees the surplice, and finds she has another to make! I say, Hurst, didn't
you croak out that solo! Their lordships in the