"It would be. You did not, however, wait to see?"

"No; I waited an hour or two, and then I ran away."

"Did you say good-bye to the head-master before leaving?"

"No; n.o.body knew of my going."

"Of course you left your address behind you, in case you should be invited to attend the inquest."

"They know where I live," said Jeffreys.

"Indeed! And may _I_ ask where you live?"

The ward's face fell at the question.

"Here, sir," faltered he.

"Pardon me, I think you are mistaken, John Jeffreys."

Jeffreys looked hard at his guardian, as if to ascertain whether or not he spoke seriously. His one longing at that moment was for food and rest. Since Sat.u.r.day morning his eyes had never closed, and yet, strange as it may seem, he could take in no more of the future than what lay before him on this one night. The sudden prospect now of being turned out into the street was overwhelming.

"I think you are mistaken," repeated Mr Halgrove, tossing the end of his cigar into the fireplace and yawning.

"But, sir," began Jeffreys, raising himself slowly to his feet, for he was stiff and cramped after his long journey, "I've walked--"

"So you said," interrupted Mr Halgrove, incisively. "You will be used to it."

At that moment Jeffreys decided the question of his night's lodging in a most unlooked-for manner by doing what he had never done before, and what he never did again.

He fainted.

When he next was aware of anything he was lying in his own bed upstairs in broad daylight, and Mr Halgrove's housekeeper was depositing a tray with some food upon it at his side. He partook gratefully, and dropped off to sleep again without rousing himself enough to recall the events of the past evening. When, however, late in the afternoon, he awoke, and went over in his mind the events of the last few days, a dismal feeling of anxiety came over him and dispelled the comfort of his present situation. He got out of bed slowly and painfully, for he was very stiff and footsore. He knew not at what moment his guardian might return to the unpleasant topic of last night's conversation, and he resolved to end his own suspense as speedily as possible. He took a bath and dressed, and then descended resolutely but with sad misgivings to the library. Mr Halgrove was sitting where his ward had left him yesterday evening.

"Ah," said he, as the boy entered, "early rising's not your strong point, is it?"

"I only woke half an hour ago."

"And you are anxious, of course, to know whether you have been inquired for by the police?" said the guardian, paring his nails.

Jeffreys' face fell.

"Has some one been?" he asked. "Have you heard anything?"

"No one has been as yet except the postman. He brought me a letter from Bolsover, which will probably interest you more than it does me. It's there on the table."

Jeffreys took up a letter addressed in Mr Frampton's hand.

"Am I to read it?"

"As you please."

Jeffreys opened the letter and read:--

"Bolsover, _October_ 12.

"S. Halgrove, Esq.

"Dear Sir,--I regret to inform you that your ward, John Jeffreys, left Bolsover secretly last night, and has not up to the present moment returned. If he has returned to you, you will probably have learned by this time the circ.u.mstances which led him to take the step he has.

(Here Mr Frampton briefly repeated the story of the football accident.) The patient still lingers, although the doctors do not at present hold out much hope of ultimate recovery. I am not inclined to credit the statement current in the school with regard to the sad event, that the injury done to the small boy was not wholly due to accident. Still, under the grave circ.u.mstances, which are made all the more serious by your ward's flight, I suggest to you that you should use your authority to induce Jeffreys to return here--at any rate for as long as Forrester's fate remains precarious; or, failing that, that you should undertake, in the event of a legal inquiry being necessary, that he shall be present if required.

"Faithfully yours,--

"T. Frampton."

"Pleasant letter, is it not?" said Mr Halgrove as Jeffreys replaced it in its envelope and laid it again on the table.

"I can't go back to Bolsover," said he.

"No? You think you are not appreciated there?"

Jeffreys winced.

"But I will undertake to go there if--"

"If the coroner invites you, eh?"

"Yes," replied the boy.

"The slight difficulty about that is that it is I, not you, that am asked to make the undertaking."

"But you will, won't you?" asked Jeffreys eagerly.

"I have the peculiarity of being rather particular about the people I give undertakings for," said Mr Halgrove, flicking a speck of dust off his sleeve; "it may be ridiculous, but I draw the line at homicide."

"You're a liar!" exclaimed the ward, in a burst of fury, which, however, he repented of almost before the words had escaped him.

Mr Halgrove was not in the slightest degree disturbed by this undutiful outbreak, but replied coolly,--

"In that case, you see, my undertaking would be worth nothing. No.

What do you say to replying to Mr Frampton's suggestion yourself?"

"I will write and tell him I will go whenever he wants me."

"The only objection to that," observed the guardian, "will be the difficulty in giving him any precise address, will it not?"

Jeffreys winced again.

"You mean to turn me adrift?" said he bluntly.