shan't worry so much when what is on my mind is
off it."

"Shall I send for Mr. Weevil?"

"No, no," answered the boy quickly; "it's you I want to speak to. Don't
leave me."

Paul did not move. He kept his place beside the bed, though he had no
wish to hear any confession. He guessed what it was. Some boyish freak
or escapade, magnified into undue proportion by the sensitive boy now
that he was so weak.

"I won't leave you, but if you've got anything to say, I'm not the
fellow to say it to. There's One can do you a great deal more good than
I can, Hibbert. Just confess to Him when you say your prayers to-night.
He'll help you a lot more than I can."

"Supposing I have done that, Percival. Supposing I did it when I closed
my eyes a little while ago; and supposing even then a voice seemed
whispering in my ear, 'If you want peace, if you want to meet your
mother in heaven, act the hypocrite no longer. Speak to Percival.' What
then?"

"Then I should say use your own judgment. Do what seems best."

Hibbert closed his eyes for a moment, as though he were trying to decide
within himself what was best. At length he opened them again.

"Do you remember that afternoon when I came to you in the writing-room
and told you Mr. Travers wished to speak to you?"

"Quite well. Nearly all the fellows had deserted me but you. I was
wretched."

"You looked it. You gave me a letter to post. Do you remember that?"

"Yes," answered Paul shortly. He remembered it but too well. It was the
letter he had written to Mr. Moncrief, to which that gentleman had not
deigned to answer.

"When I came back to you in the writing-room you were tracing names on
the blotting-pad. I caught sight of one--Zuker. You noticed that I was
surprised at seeing it, and asked me if I knew anybody of that name. I
told you that I did. That I once knew a boy of that name when I was at
school in Germany. And then you told me something I'm never likely to
forget--never likely to forget to my dying hour. You may think it
strange, but the words came suddenly to my ears when I fell off the raft
into the river."

"Indeed! What was it I told you?"

"You told me that it was through a man of the name of Zuker that your
father lost his life."

"Yes, that's true enough. So it was--Israel Zuker. What about it?"

"What about it!" Hibbert made a painful effort to laugh. "Why,
Percival----"

He stopped abruptly, as the door suddenly opened, and Mr. Weevil
entered.