The Unclassed | Page 4

hysterical cries for help; some of the little girls were
crowding round an object in one corner of the room, others appeared to
be getting as far away from it as possible, hiding their pale faces in
their hands, or looking at one another with terrified eyes. At length one
more thoughtful than the rest sped away out of the room, and stood at
the bottom of the stairs, calling out her teacher's name as loud as she
could. A moment, and Miss Rutherford came hastening down, with
alarmed aspect, begging to be told what was the matter. But the
summoner had turned and fled at the first sight of the lady's garments.
Miss Rutherford darted into the schoolroom, and at once there was
quietness, save for half-choked sobs here and there, and a more
ominous kind of moaning from the crowded corner.
"Gracious goodness, children, what is it? Who's that lying on the floor?
Harriet Smales! What ever has happened?"
The cluster of children had fallen aside, exposing a strange picture. On
the ground lay a girl of twelve, her face deadly pale, save in the places
where it was dabbled with fresh blood, which still streamed from a
gash on the right side of her forehead. Her eyes were half opened; she
was just recovering consciousness; a moan came from her at intervals.
She had for support the lap and arms of a little girl, perhaps two years
younger than herself. Heedless of the flowing blood, this child was
pressing her pale cheek against that of the wounded one, whose name
she kept murmuring in pitiful accents, mixed with endearing epithets.
So unconscious was she of all around, that the falling back of the other
children did not cause her to raise her eyes; neither was she aware of
Miss Rutherford's first exclamations, nor yet of the question which was
next addressed to her by the horrified schoolmistress.
"How did it happen? Some of you run at once for a doctor--Dr.
Williams in Grove Road--Oh, quick!--Ida Starr, how did it happen?"
Ida did not move, but seemed to tighten her embrace. The other pupils
all looked fearfully hither and thither, but none ventured to speak.
"Ida!" repeated Miss Rutherford, dropping on her knees by the two, and
beginning to wipe away some of the blood with her handkerchief.
"Speak, child! Has some one gone for the doctor? How was it done?"

The face at length turned upon the questioner was almost as ghastly and
red-stained as that it had been pressed against. But it had become
self-controlled; the dark eyes looked straight forward with an
expression marvellously full of meaning in one so young; the lips did
not tremble as they spoke.
"I did it, Miss Rutherford. I have killed Harriet. I, and nobody else."
"You? How, child?"
"I killed her with the slate, Miss Rutherford; this slate, look."
She pointed to a slate without a frame which lay on the floor. There
were sums worked on the uppermost side, and the pencil-marks were
half obliterated. For a moment the schoolmistress's amazement held her
motionless, but fresh and louder moans recalled her to the immediate
necessities of the case. She pushed Ida Starr aside, and, with the help of
a servant-girl who had by this time appeared in the room, raised the
sufferer into a chair, and began to apply what remedies suggested
themselves. The surgeon, whom several of the children had hastened to
seek, only lived a few yards away, and his assistant was speedily
present. Harriet Smales had quite recovered consciousness, and was
very soon able to give her own account of the incident. After listening
to her, Miss Rutherford turned to the schoolchildren, who were now
seated in the usual order on benches, and spoke to them with some
degree of calm.
"I am going to take Harriet home. Lucy Wood, you will please to see
that order is preserved in my absence; I shall only be away twenty
minutes, at the most. Ida Starr, you will go up into my sitting-room,
and remain there till I come to you. All take out your copy-books; I
shall examine the lines written whilst I am away."
The servant, who had been despatched for a cab, appeared at the door.
Harriet Smales was led out. Before leaving the house, Miss Rutherford
whispered to the servant an order to occupy herself in the sitting-room,
so as to keep Ida Starr in sight.
Miss Rutherford, strict disciplinarian when her nerves were not
unstrung, was as good as her promise with regard to the copy-books.
She had returned within the twenty minutes, and the first thing she did
was to walk along all the benches, making a comment here, a
correction there, in another place giving a word of praise. Then