," said the Doctor,
"you may speak on. I shall have to consider his case to-morrow. Has any
similar case of disobedience come to your knowledge? If so, I expect you
to disclose it to me. You have found some other boy with sweetmeats in
his possession?"

"Good Heavens, sir!" said Mr. Bultitude, losing his temper; "I haven't
been searching the whole school for sweetmeats! I have other things to
occupy my mind, sir. And, once for all, I demand to be heard! Dr.
Grimstone, there are, ahem, domestic secrets that can only be alluded to
in the strictest privacy. I see that one of your assistants is writing
at his table there. Cannot we go where there will be less risk of
interruption? You have a study, I suppose?"

"Yes, sir," said the Doctor with terrible grimness, "I have a study--and
I have a cane. I can convince you of both facts, if you wish it. If you
insult me again by this brazen buffoonery, I will! Be off to your
dormitory, sir, before you provoke me to punish you. Not another word!
Go!"

And, incredible as it may appear to all who have never been in his
position, Mr. Bultitude went. It was almost an abdication, it was
treachery to his true self; he knew the vital importance of firmness at
this crisis. But nevertheless his courage gave way all at once, and he
crawled up the bare, uncarpeted stairs without any further protest!

"Good night, Master Bultitude," said a housemaid, meeting him on the
staircase: "you know your bedroom. No. 6, with Master Coker, and Master
Biddlecomb, and the others."

Paul dragged himself up to the highest landing-stage, and, with a sick
foreboding, opened the door on which the figure 6 was painted.

It was a large bare plainly papered room, with several curtainless
windows, the blinds of which were drawn, a long deal stand of wash-hand
basins, and eight little white beds against the walls.

A fire was lighted in consideration of its being the first night, and
several boys were talking excitedly round it. "Here he is! He's stayed
behind to tell more tales!" they cried, as Paul entered nervously. "Now
then, Bultitude, what have you got to say for yourself?"

Mr. Bultitude felt powerless among all these young wolves. He had no
knowledge of boys, nor any notion of acquiring an influence over them,
having hitherto regarded them as necessary nuisances, to be rather
repressed than studied. He could only stare hopelessly at them in
fascinated silence.

"You see he hasn't a word to say for