did he say?" said Reginald.

"I don't exactly remember--a heap about 'pain inflicted,' of
'misconstructions being placed on motives,' of 'transgressions
against honor and kindliness;' and then, when I was at a loss to
comprehend him, he said, 'he could not understand the gratification
of seeing another disappointed and annoyed--when he discovered that
his school-fellow, whom he confidently trusted, had substituted a
blank sheet for a carefully, laboriously-written work;' and then
I asked him if he supposed I had tricked Hamilton? and he said he
couldn't think of another who was so likely to do it as myself--that
'the constant indulgence in these senseless follies was likely to
blunt the sense of honor,' 'that I must excuse him'--excuse him,
forsooth--'if he spoke his mind on the subject:' and then he raked
up an old affair, that happened ages ago, about an exercise--Salisbury,
you remember--you were the victim; but that was a paltry, every-day
affair, only he didn't seem to understand the difference. I'll back
the doctor up for as good a memory as any man in the three kingdoms.
I had forgotten that piece of moral turpitude, and might have been
excused for imagining that the caning I got then had wiped out the
offence. Hamilton," he added, with a faltering voice, laying his
hand on Hamilton's shoulder--"you don't believe I did it?"

"To be sure not, Frank," said Hamilton, heartily shaking Frank's hand.
"I know you too well--I am as confident of you as I should be of myself
in the same case. Don't think any more of it. I am sure the doctor
doesn't believe it himself: he only wants to show what might be
thought if you get a character for playing tricks. I am excessively
vexed at this."

"I don't feel at all certain he believes me yet," said Frank; "but
this I declare, that unless your poem is found, I will withdraw all
claim--I won't touch the prize for any consideration."

"Don't do that, Frank," said Hamilton; "I'll give you some trouble yet
with my new one."

"If that gets it, so much the better," said Frank, "and I dare say it
will; but you all hear--my mind is made up--I won't have a prize for
this poem unless it is gained over Hamilton's first."

"How came the doctor to begin this rigmarole?" asked Salisbury.

Frank blushed, and replied, with a conscious laugh: "I did an abominably
foolish thing last night, in dipping all the bed-room candles that were
standing in the pantry, into a tempting basin of water; a