t up. Have you the key, Burr?"

I stood gazing at him wildly without answering, and then I glanced at
Mercer, who met my eye with a look of terror and misery that was piteous
to see. For now it was all to come out, and the theft would be brought
home to him, for the poor lad to be expelled in disgrace and go home
despairingly to those who loved him, and all because he could not
restrain that horrible feeling of covetousness.

"I said, `Have you the key, Burr junior?'" continued the Doctor more
sternly, and I shuddered as the thought struck me now that I was
becoming mixed up with the trouble, that they would not believe me if I
told the truth--that truth which would be so difficult to tell for
Mercer's sake.

"Burr junior," cried the Doctor very sharply now, "have you the key of
that padlock?"

"Yes; sir," I faltered, giving quite a start now, as his words roused me
as from a dream, and I felt horrified as I fully saw how guilty all this
made me appear.

"Take the key, Mr Rebble, if you please," continued the Doctor, looking
more and more pained, as I withdrew the rusty little instrument from my
pocket. "Open the bin, please, and see if Dicksee's statement is made
out."

Mr Hasnip was, I found, looking at me, and I felt a choking sensation
as he shook his head at me sadly.

Then I glanced at Mercer, and found he was looking at me in a horrified
way, and I let my eyes drop as I said to myself,--

"Poor fellow! I shall not have to speak; he'll confess it all. I wish
I could save him."

And all the while the usher was unlocking the padlock, taking it from
the staple, and throwing open the great lid back against the whitewashed
wall, every click and grate of the iron and the creak of the old hinges
sounding clear and loud amidst the painful silence.

"Will you come and look, sir?" said Mr Rebble.

"No," said the Doctor sternly. "Is there a rabbit-skin there, as this
boy described?"

"Yes, sir."

"Take it out."

Mr Rebble obeyed, and once more I met Mercer's eyes gazing at me
wildly, and, as I interpreted the look, imploring me not to speak.

The miserable stuffed distortion was brought out, and I felt half
disposed to laugh at it, as I thought of my school-fellow's queer ideas
for a group in natural history. But that was only a flying thought,
succeeded by a mental pang that was most keen, as the rabbit was laid on
the floor, and, acting on the Doctor's instructions, Mr Rebble went
down on one kn