iled indulgently, and remarked that he "liked to see the strong
assisting the weak."

All the boxes had by this time been brought up, and were ranged upon the
tables, while the Doctor went round, making an almost formal inspection,
like a Custom House officer searching compatriots, and becoming milder
and milder as box after box opened to reveal a fair and innocent
interior.

Paul's turn was coming very near, and his heart seemed to shrivel like a
burst bladder. He fumbled with his key, and tried hard to lose it. It
was terrible to have oneself to apply the match which is to blow one to
the winds. If--if--the idea was almost too horrible--but if he, a
blameless and respectable city merchant, were actually to find himself
served like the miserable Coggs!

At last the Doctor actually stood by him. "Well, my boy," he said, not
unkindly, "I'm not afraid of anything wrong here, at any rate."

Mr. Bultitude, who had the best reasons for not sharing his confidence,
made some inarticulate sounds, and pretended to have a difficulty in
turning the key.

"Eh? Come, open the box," said the Doctor with an altered manner. "What
are you fumbling at it for in this--this highly suspicious manner? I'll
open it myself."

He took the key and opened the lid, when the cakes and wine stood
revealed in all their damning profusion. The Doctor stepped back
dramatically. "Hardbake!" he gasped; "wine, pots of strawberry jam! Oh,
Bultitude, this is a revelation indeed! So I have nourished one more
viper in my bosom, have I? A crawling reptile which curries favour by
denouncing the very crime it conceals in its playbox! Bultitude, I was
not prepared for such duplicity as this!"

"I--I swear I never put them in!" protested the unhappy Paul. "I--I
never touch such things: they would bring on my gout in half-an-hour.
It's ridiculous to punish me. I never knew they were there!"

"Then why were you so anxious to avoid opening the box?" rejoined the
Doctor. "No, sir, you're too ingenious; your guilt is clear. Go to your
dormitory, and wait there till I come to you!"

Paul went upstairs, feeling utterly abandoned and helpless. Though a
word as to his real character might have saved him, he could not have
said it, and, worse still, knew now that he could not.

"I shall be caned," he told himself, and the thought nearly drove him
mad. "I know I shall be caned! What on earth shall I do?"

He opened the door of his bedroom. Coggs was rocking and m