lips parted to speak, when my uncle checked me by his stern, harsh
voice.

"Silent! The silence of guilt!" he cried bitterly. "I have--"

"Stop a moment, Seaborough," cried the General. "Let me have a word,
for poor dead Burr's sake. Frank, boy, I've always liked you, and
believed in you, as the bright, manly son of a dear dead friend. Don't
let me go away feeling that I can never trust any one again. I won't
believe it--I can't believe it--that the blood and breed in your young
veins would let you stoop to be a miserable, contemptible thief, and for
the sake of a paltry silver watch. Why, my dear boy, you must have
known that, as soon as you were old enough to want a watch, you could
have had a gold one of the very best. Why, hang it all, sir, for your
father's and mother's sake, I'd have hung you all over watches. Come
now, speak out before us all like a man, and tell us what all this
mystery means. Tell us that you did not steal this watch."

"Why, of course he didn't!" cried a familiar voice, and as I started
round at these hopeful words, which seemed to give me life, I saw Cook
busily tying the strings of her best cap, the one my mother had sent
her, before untying and snatching off her apron, as if she had come to
the library in such a hurry that she had not had time to prepare.

"Cook!" exclaimed Mrs Doctor sternly.

"Oh, yes, ma'am, I know," cried Cook defiantly, as she reached back and
caught somebody's arm just outside the door. "Here, you come in, Polly
'Opley; there's nothing to be ashamed of, my dear. You come in."

Polly Hopley, dressed in her best, suffered herself to be dragged in,
and then, after whispering, "Do adone, do, Cook," began to make bobs and
courtesies to everybody in turn.

"Er--rum!" coughed the Doctor. "My good woman," he cried severely,
"what is the meaning of this intrusion?"

"You may call it what you like, sir," cried Cook sharply; "and you too,
mum," she continued, turning to Mrs Doctor, "and give me my month, or
distant ismissal if you like."

Cook meant to say, "instant dismissal," but she was excited, and, giving
a defiant look round, she went on,--

"I don't care, and I says it's a shame, not alone to keep the poor boy
locked up like a prisoner, and badly fed, as does a growing boy no end
of harm; and I will say it, mum," she continued, turning to my mother,
"as dear and good a boy as ever came into this school, but to go and say
he was a thief, as he coul