No one stirred; but Montagu felt that his friend was trembling violently.

"Eric Williams, stand out in the room."

Blushing scarlet, and deeply agitated, the boy obeyed

"The writing on the notice is exactly like yours. Do you know anything of this shameful proceeding?"

"Nothing, sir," he murmured in a low tone.

"Nothing whatever?"

"Nothing whatever, sir."

Dr. Rowlands' look searched him through and through, and seemed to burn into his heart. He did not meet it, but hung his head. The Doctor felt certain from his manner that he was guilty. He chained him to the spot with his glance for a minute or two, and then said slowly, and with a deep sigh--

"Very well; I _hope_ you have spoken the truth; but whether you have or no, we shall soon discover. The school, and especially the upper boys, will remember what I have said. I shall now tear down the insulting notice, and put it into your hands, Avonley, as head of the school, that you may make further inquiries." He left the room, and the boys resumed their usual avocation till twelve o'clock. But poor Eric could hardly get through his ordinary pursuits; he felt sick and giddy, until everybody noticed his strange embarra.s.sed manner, and random answers.

No sooner had twelve o'clock struck, than the whole school broke up into knots of buzzing and eager talkers.

"I wonder who did it," said a dozen voices at once.

"The writing was undoubtedly Williams'," suggested some.

"And did you notice how red and pale he got when the Doctor spoke to him, and how he hung his head?"

"Yes; and one knows how he hates Gordon."

"Ay; by the bye, Gordon set him a Georgic only on Thursday, and he has been swearing at him ever since."

"I noticed that he stayed in after all the rest last night," said Barker.

"Did he? By Jove, that looks bad."

"Has any one charged him with it?" asked Duncan.

"Yes," answered one of the group: "but he's as proud about it as Lucifer, and is furious if you mention it to him. He says we ought to know him better than to think him capable of such a thing."

"And quite right, too," said Duncan. "If he did it, he's done something totally unlike what one would have believed possible of him."

The various items of evidence were put together, and certainly they seemed to prove a strong case against Eric. In addition to the probabilities already mentioned, it was found that the ink used was of a violet color, and a peculiar kind, which Eric was known to patronise; and not only so, but the wafers with which the paper had been attached to the board were yellow, and exactly of the same size with some which Eric was said to possess. How the latter facts had been discovered, n.o.body exactly knew, but they began to be very generally whispered throughout the school.

In short, the almost universal conviction among the boys proclaimed that he was guilty, and many urged him to confess it at once, and save the school from the threatened punishment. But he listened to such suggestions with the most pa.s.sionate indignation.

"What!" he said, angrily, "tell a wilful lie to blacken my own innocent character? Never!"

The consequence was, they all began to shun him. Eric was put into Coventry. Very few boys in the school still clung to him, and maintained his innocence in spite of appearances, but they were the boys whom he had most loved and valued, and they were most vigorous in his defence.

They were Russell, Montagu, Duncan, Owen, and little Wright.

On the evening of the Sat.u.r.day, Upton had sought out Eric, and said in a very serious tone, "This is a bad business, Williams. I cannot forget how you have been abusing Gordon lately, and though I won't believe you guilty, yet you ought to explain."

"What? even _you_, then suspect me?" said Eric, bursting into proud tears. "Very well. I shan't condescend to _deny_ it. I won't speak to you again till you have repented of mistrusting me;" and he resolutely rejected all further overtures on Upton's part.

He was alone in his misery. Some one, he perceived, had plotted to destroy his character, and he saw too clearly how many causes of suspicion told against him. But it was very bitter to think that the whole school could so readily suppose that he would do a thing which from his soul he abhorred. "No," he thought, "bad I may be, but I _could_ not have done such a base and cowardly trick."

Never in his life had he been so wretched. He wandered alone to the rocks, and watched the waves dashing against them with the rising tide.

The tumult of the weather seemed to relieve and console the tumult of his heart. He drank in strength and defiance from the roar of the waters, and climbed to their very edge along the rocks, where every fresh, rush of the waves enveloped him in white swirls of angry loam.

The look of the green, rough, hungry sea, harmonised with his feelings, and he sat down and stared into it, to find relief from the torment of his thoughts.

At last, with a deep sigh, he turned away to go back, and meet the crowd of suspicious and unkindly companions, and brood alone over his sorrow in the midst of them. He had not gone many steps, when he caught sight of Russell in the distance. His first impulse was to run away and escape; but Russell determined to stop him, and when he came up, said, "Dear Eric, I have sought you out on purpose to tell you that _I_ don't suspect you, and have never done so for a moment. I know you too well, my boy, and be sure that _I_ will always stick to you, even if the whole school cut you."

"Oh, Edwin, I am _so_ wretched. I needn't tell you that I am quite innocent of this. What have I done to be so suspected? Why, even your cousin Upton won't believe me."

"But he does, Eric," said Russell; "he told me so just now, and several others said the same thing."

A transient gleam pa.s.sed over Eric's face.

"O, I do so long for home again," he said. "Except you, I have no friend."

"Don't say so, Eric. This cloud will soon blow over. Depend upon it, as the Doctor said, we shall discover the offender yet, and the fellows will soon make you reparation for their false suspicions. And you _have_ one friend, Eric," he continued, pointing reverently upwards.

Eric was overcome; he sat down on the gra.s.s and hid his face till the tears flowed through his closed fingers. Russell sat silent and pitying beside him, and let Eric's head rest upon his shoulder.

When they got home, Eric found three notes in his drawer. One was from Mr. Gordon, and ran thus:--

"I have little doubt, Williams, that you have done this act. Believe me, I feel no anger, only pity for you. Come to me and confess, and I promise, by every means in my power, to befriend and save you."

This note he read, and then, stamping on the floor, tore it up furiously into twenty pieces, which he scattered about the room.

Another was from Mr. Rose;

"Dear Eric--I _cannot, will_ not, believe you guilty, although appearances look very black. You have many faults, but I feel sure that I cannot be mistaken in supposing you too n.o.ble-minded for a revenge so petty and so mean. Come to me, dear boy, if I can help you in any way. I _trust you_, Eric, and will use every endeavor to right you in the general estimation. You are innocent; pray to G.o.d for help under this cruel trial, and be sure that your character will yet be cleared.--Affectionately yours, WALTER ROSE."

"_P.S._--I can easily understand that just now you will like quiet; come and sit with me in the library as much as you like."

He read this note two or three times with grateful emotion, and at that moment would have died for Mr. Rose. The third note was from Owen, as follows:--

"Dear Williams--We have been cool to each other lately; naturally, perhaps. But yet I think that it will be some consolation to you to be told, even by a rival, that I, for one, feel certain of your innocence.

If you want company, I shall be delighted now to walk with you.--Yours truly, D. OWEN."

This note, too, brought much comfort to the poor boy's lonely and pa.s.sionate heart. He put it into his pocket, and determined at once to accept Mr. Rose's kind offer of allowing him to sit for the present in the library.

There were several boys in the room while he was reading his notes, but none of them spoke to him, and he was too proud to notice them, or interrupt the constrained silence. As he went out he met Duncan and Montagu, who at once addressed him in the hearing of the rest.

"Ha! Williams," said Duncan, "we have been looking everywhere for you, dear fellow. Cheer up, you shall be cleared yet. I, for one, and Monty for another, will maintain your innocence before the whole school."

Montagu _said_ nothing, but Eric understood full well the trustful kindness of his soft pressure of the hand. His heart was too full to speak, and he went on towards the library.

"I wonder at your speaking to that fellow," said Bull, as the two new comers joined the group at the fire-place.