rs," cried Louis, in great agitation.

"I got the atlas myself, Mortimer, you know," said Ferrers.

Louis was quite overcome. He covered his face with his hands, and burst
into tears.

"This is a sad business," said Dr. Wilkinson, very gravely; "much
worse than I expected--one of you must be giving utterance to the
most frightful untruths. Which of you is it?"

"What would Ferrers want with the Key to The Greek Exercises sir?"
suggested Trevannion, "unless he wished to do an ill turn to Mortimer,
which you cannot suppose."

"I have hitherto trusted Mr. Ferrers," replied Dr. Wilkinson; "and
am not disposed to withdraw that confidence without sufficient cause.
Mr. Ferrers, on your word of honor, am I to believe your statement?"

Ferrers turned pale, but the doctor's steady gaze was upon him, and all
his class-fellows awaited his reply--visions of disgrace, contempt, and
scorn were before him, and there was no restraining power from within to
check him, as he hastily replied, "On my word of honor, sir."

"I must believe you, then, as I can imagine no motive which could
induce you to act dishonorably by this boy, were I to discover that
any one in my school had acted so, his immediate expulsion should be
the consequence."

The dead silence that followed the doctor's words struck coldly on the
heart of the guilty coward.

"Now, Louis Mortimer," said the doctor, sternly, "I wish to give you
another chance of confessing your fault."

Louis' thick convulsive sobs only replied to this. After waiting a
few minutes, Dr. Wilkinson said, "Go now to the little study joining
my dining-room, and wait there till I come: I shall give you half an
hour to consider."

Louis left the room, and repaired to the study, where he threw himself
on a chair in a paroxysm of grief, which, for the first quarter of an
hour, admitted of no alleviation: "He had no character. The doctor had
heard all before. All believed him guilty--and how _could_ Ferrers act
so? How could it ever be found out? And, oh! his dear father and mother,
and his grandfather, would believe it."

By degrees the violence of his distress subsided, and he sent up his
tearful petitions to his heavenly Father, till his overloaded heart
felt lightened of some of its sorrow. As he grew calmer, remembrances
of old faults came before him, and he thought of a similar sin of his
own, and how nearly an innocent person had suffered for it--and this
he felt was much easier to be