ful as it was strange to him. He could
hardly bear to take his jacket off; however, presently, with an effort,
off it came, and then he paused and looked at Tom, who was sitting at
the bottom of his bed talking and laughing.
"Please, Brown," he whispered, "may I wash my face and hands?"
"Of course, if you like," said Tom, staring; "that's your
washhand-stand, under the window, second from your bed. You'll have to
go down for more water in the morning if you use it all." And on he went
with his talk, while Arthur stole timidly from between the beds out to
his washhand-stand, and began his ablutions, thereby drawing for a
moment on himself the attention of the room.
On went the talk and laughter. Arthur finished his washing and
undressing, and put on his night-gown. He then looked round more
nervously than ever. Two or three of the little boys were already in
bed, sitting up with their chins on their knees. The light burned clear,
the noise went on. It was a trying moment for the poor little lonely
boy; however, this time he didn't ask Tom what he might or might not do,
but dropped on his knees by his bedside, as he had done every day from
his childhood, to open his heart to Him who heareth the cry and beareth
the sorrows of the tender child, and the strong man in agony.
Tom was sitting at the bottom of his bed unlacing his boots, so that his
back was towards Arthur, and he didn't see what had happened, and looked
up in wonder at the sudden silence. Then two or three boys laughed and
sneered, and a big brutal fellow, who was standing in the middle of the
room, picked up a slipper, and shied it at the kneeling boy, calling him
a snivelling young shaver. Then Tom saw the whole, and the next moment
the boot he had just pulled off flew straight at the head of the bully,
who had just time to throw up his arm and catch it on his elbow.
"Confound you, Brown, what's that for?" roared he, stamping with pain.
"Never mind what I mean," said Tom, stepping on to the floor, every
drop of blood in his body tingling; "if any fellow wants the other boot,
he knows how to get it."
What would have been the result is doubtful, for at this moment the
sixth-form boy came in, and not another word could be said. Tom and the
rest rushed into bed and finished their unrobing there, and the old
verger, as punctual as the clock, had put out the candle in another
minute, and toddled on to the next room, shutting their door with his
usual
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