agitation, but not in time to prevent the cane descending with
heavy hand across the child's back.

Charlie's was one of those fine, nervous, susceptible temperaments,
which feel every physical sensation, and every mental emotion, with
tenfold severity. During the whole of this scene; so painfully
anticipated, in which he had stood alone among a group of boys, whose
sole object seemed to be to show their hatred, and who were twice as
strong as himself, his feelings had been highly wrought; and though he
had had many opportunities of late to train his delicate organisation
into manly endurance, yet the sudden anguish of this unexpected blow
quite conquered him. A thrilling cry broke from his lips, and the next
moment, when the cane again tore his shoulders, a fit of violent
hysteria supervened, which alarmed the brutes who were trying to master
his noble resolution.

And at this crisis the door burst open with a sudden crash, and Bliss
entered in a state of burning indignation, followed more slowly by
Kenrick.

"O, I am too late," he said, stamping his foot; "what _have_ you been
doing to the little fellow?" and thrusting some of them aside, he took
up Charlie in his arms, and gradually soothed and calmed him till his
wild sobs and laughter were hushed, while the rest looked on silent.
But feeling that Charlie shrank as though a touch were painful to him,
Bliss unbared his back, and the two blue weals all across it showed him
what had been done.

"Look there, Kenrick," he said, with great sternness, as he pointed to
the marks; and then, laying Charlie gently down on his bed, he thundered
out, in a voice shaken with passion, "You _dogs_, could you look on and
allow this? By heavens, Kenrick, if _you_ mean to suffer this, I won't.
Out of my way, you." Scattering the rest before him like a flock of
sheep, he seized Mackworth with his strong hands, shook him violently by
both shoulders, and then tearing the cane out of his grasp, he demanded,
"Was it you who did this?"

"What are you about, you Bliss?" said Mackworth, with very ruffled
dignity. "Mind what you're after, and don't make such a row, you ass's
head," he continued authoritatively, "or you'll have Noel or some one in
here."

"Ho! that's your tone, you cruel, reprobate bully," said Bliss, supplied
by indignation with an unusual flow of words; "we've had enough of that,
and too much. You can look at poor little Evson there, and not sink
into the very e