ld approve.

"Now, my dear, you will sleep again," she said, as she arose.

"If you will lie down too, instead of sitting by the fire. Do, mother."

She did so; and they were soon both asleep.

CHAPTER NINE.

CROFTON QUIET.

The boys were all in the school-room in the grey of the morning;--no one
late. Mr Tooke was already there. Almost every boy looked wistfully
in the grave face of the master;--almost every one but his own son. He
looked down; and it seemed natural: for his eyes were swollen with
crying. He had been crying as much as Proctor: but, then, so had Dale.

"Your school-fellow is doing well," said Mr Tooke, in a low voice,
which, however, was heard to the farthest end of the room. "His brother
will tell you that he saw him quietly asleep; and I have just seen him
so. He deserves to do well; for he is a brave little boy. He is the
youngest of you; but I doubt whether there is a more manly heart among
you all."

There was a murmur, as if everybody wished to agree to this. That
murmur set Phil crying again.

"As to how this accident happened," continued the master, "I have only
to say this. The coping-stone of the wall was loose,--had become
loosened by the frost. Of that I am aware. But it would not,--it could
not have fallen, if your school-fellow had not been pulled from the top
of the wall. Several hands pulled him,--as many as could get a hold.
Whose these hands were, it would be easy to ascertain; and it would not
be difficult to discover whose was the hand which first laid hold, and
gave the rest their grasp. But--" How earnestly here did every one look
for the next words!--"But your school-fellow considers the affair an
accident,--says he himself was cross."

"No! No! We plagued him," cried many voices.

"Well! He is sure no one meant him any harm, and earnestly desires that
no further inquiry may be made. For his part, nothing, he declares,
shall ever induce him to tell who first seized him."

The boys were about to give a loud cheer, but stopped, for Hugh's sake,
just in time. There was no want of signs of what they felt. There was
no noise; but there were many tears.

"I do not think that a promise of impunity can be any great comfort to
those concerned," continued Mr Tooke: "but such comfort as they can
find in it, they may. Both from my wish to indulge one who has just
sustained so great a misfortune, and because I think he is right, I
shall never inquire,--