* * * * *

John sat with his Form while the Head Master was addressing the School.
Not far off was the Caterpillar, less cool than usual, so John remarked.
His collar, for instance, seemed to be too tight; and he moved
restlessly upon his chair. Many very brave men become nervous when a
great danger has passed them by. Egerton said afterwards, "I felt like
getting down a hole, and pulling the hole after me. Not my own. Some
Yankee's, you know." Still, he displayed remarkable self-possession
under trying circumstances. Two of Lovell's particular friends were seen
to turn the colour of Cheddar cheese. But Desmond, so John noticed, grew
red rather than yellow. Nor did he tremble, but his fists were clenched,
and his eyes kindled.

As Scaife left the Speech-room, followed by Titchener (the provider of
birches, whose duty it is to see that boys about to be swished are
properly prepared to receive punishment), the boys began to shuffle in
their places. But the Head Master held up his hand. It was then that
Lovell's two particular friends, who had partially recovered, felt that
the earth was once more slipping from under them.

"It takes four to play bridge." The Caterpillar's fingers went to
his collar again. "In this case there must have been a fourth,
possibly a fifth and a sixth. Not more, I think, because the secret
was too well kept. We are confronted with the disagreeable fact that
three boys are going to receive the most severe punishments I can
inflict, and that another escapes scot-free. _For I do not know
the--name--of--the--fourth._"

The Head Master waited to let each deliberate word soak in. Perhaps he
had calculated the effect of his voice upon a boy of sensibility and
imagination. That Scaife, his friend, should suffer the indignity of a
swishing, and that he should escape scot-free, seemed to Caesar Desmond
not a bit of rare good fortune--as it appeared to the others--but an
incredible miscarriage of justice. To submit tamely to such a burden was
unthinkable. He sprang to his feet, ardent, impetuous, afire with the
spirit which makes men accept death rather than dishonour; and then, in
a voice that rang through the room, thrilling the coldest and most
callous heart, he exclaimed--

"I was the fourth."

A curious sound escaped from the audience--a gasp of surprise, of
admiration, and of dismay; at least, so the Head Master interpreted it.
And looking at the faces about him,