lsover. The event of the day had awed them into
something like a common feeling. They forgot their own petty quarrels
and grievances for the time, and thought of nothing but poor Forrester.

The doctor and Mr Frampton never quitted his room all night. Boys who,
refusing to go to bed, sat anxiously, with their study doors open, eager
to catch the first sound proceeding from that solemn chamber, waited in
vain, and dropped asleep where they sat as the night gave place to dawn.
Even the masters hovered restlessly about with careworn faces, and full
of misgivings as hour passed hour without tidings.

At length--it was about ten o'clock, and the school bell was just
beginning to toll for morning chapel--the door opened, and Mr Frampton
stepped quickly out of the sick-room.

"Stop the bell at once!" he said.

Then Forrester must still be living!

"How is he?" asked a dozen voices, as the head-master passed down the
corridor.

"There is hope," said Mr Frampton, "and, thank God! signs of returning
consciousness."

And with that grain of comfort wearied Bolsover filed slowly into
church.

As Mr Frampton reached his study door he found Scarfe and Farfield
waiting for him.

"Well?" said he wearily, seeing that they had something to say. "Come
in."

They followed him into the room.

"Is there really hope?" said Scarfe, who truly loved the injured boy.

"I think so. He never moved or showed sign of life, except the beating
of his heart, till an hour ago. Then he moved his head and opened his
eyes."

"Did he know you, sir?"

"The doctor thinks he did. But everything depends now on quiet and
care."

"We wanted to speak to you, sir, about the--the accident," said Farfield
with a little hesitation.

"Yes. I have hardly heard how it happened, except that he fell in
attempting to collar Jeffreys. Was it not so?"

"Yes, sir," replied Farfield. "But--"

"Well, what?" asked Mr Frampton, noticing his hesitation.

"We don't feel sure that it was altogether an accident," said Farfield.

"What! Do you mean that the boy was intentionally injured?"

"Jeffreys might easily have run round him. Anybody else would. He had
the whole field to himself, and no one even near him behind."

"But was it not Forrester who got in front of him?"

"Of course he tried to collar him, sir," said Scarfe; "but he's only a
little boy, and Jeffreys is a giant. Jeffreys might have fended him off
with his arm, as he did the oth