gu's averted
face.

"O Duncan, Monty, be merciful, be merciful," said Eric. "Don't yet
condemn me. I am guilty, not of _this_, but of something as bad. I
admit I was tempted; but if the money really is all gone, it is _not_ I
who am the thief."

"You must know, Eric, that the suspicion against you is very strong, and
rests on some definite facts."

"Yes, I know it must. Yet, oh, do be merciful, and don't yet condemn
me. I have denied it. Whatever else I am, am I a liar, Monty? O
Monty, Monty, believe me in this!"

But the boys still stood silent.

"Well then," he said, "I will tell you all. But I can only tell it to
you, Monty. Duncan, indeed, you mustn't be angry; you are my friend,
but not so much as Monty. I can tell him, and him only."

Duncan left the room, and Montagu sat down beside Eric on the bed, and
put his arm round him to support him, for he shook violently. There,
with deep and wild emotion, and many interruptions of passionate
silence, Eric told to Montagu his miserable tale. "I am the most
wretched fellow living," he said; "there must be some fiend that hates
me, and drives me to ruin. But let it all come: I care nothing,
nothing, what happens to me now. Only, dear, dear Monty, forgive me,
and love me still."

"O Eric, it is not for one like me to talk of forgiveness; you were
sorely tempted. Yet God will forgive you if you ask Him. Won't you
pray to Him to-night? I love you, Eric, still, with all my heart, and
do you think God can be less kind than man? And _I_, too, will pray for
you, Eric. Good-night, and God bless you." He gently disengaged
himself--for Eric clung to him, and seemed unwilling to lose sight of
him--and a moment after he was gone.

Eric felt terribly alone. He knelt down and tried to pray, but somehow
it didn't seem as if the prayer came from his heart, and his thoughts
began instantly to wander far away. Still he knelt--knelt even until
his candle had gone out, and he had nearly fallen asleep,
thought-wearied, on his knees. And then he got into bed still dressed.
He had been making up his mind that he could bear it no longer, and
would run away to sea that night.

He waited till eleven, when Dr Rowlands took his rounds. The Doctor
had been told all the circumstances of suspicion, and they amounted in
his mind to certainty. It made him very sad, and he stopped to look at
the boy from whom he had parted on such friendly terms so short a time
before.