l."

"Louis!" exclaimed Reginald, involuntarily.

Louis' head was down as far as his master's hand would allow it, and deep
crimson blushes passed quickly over the nearly tearful face--and now the
remembrance of Ferrers, poor Ferrers, who had surely told all. Louis felt
very sorry for him, and almost ashamed on his own account. He wished he
could get behind his master, but that was impossible, and he stood still,
as the doctor continued, "Three weeks ago Louis discovered that a little
boy was in the study on the day when Kenrick's Key was abstracted, who
could, of course, bring the desired information--the information which
would have righted him in all our eyes; but mark--you who are ready to
revenge injuries--because this would have involved the expulsion of one
who had deeply injured him, he has never, by sign or word, made known to
any one the existence of such information, persuading the little boy also
to keep the secret; and this, which from him I should never have learned,
I have just heard from the guilty person, who, unable to bear the remorse
of his own mind, has voluntarily confessed his sin and Louis' estimable
conduct. Young gentlemen, I would say to all of you, 'GO AND DO LIKEWISE.'"

During this speech, Reginald had hardly been able to control himself,
especially when he found that Louis had never mentioned his knowledge
to himself; and now he sprang forward, unchecked by the doctor, and,
seizing his brother, who was immediately released, asked, "Why did you
not tell me, Louis? How was it I never guessed?"

While he spoke, there was a buz of inquiry at the lower end of the
school, and those who knew the story crowded eagerly up to the dais
to speak to Louis. Alfred's voice was very distinct, for he had worked
himself up to his brother:

"Edward, tell me all about it. I'm sure if I'd known I'd have told.
I didn't know why Louis was so joyful."

Edward could answer nothing: his heart was as full as the doctor's, and
with almost overflowing eyes and a trembling step, he pushed his way to
Louis, who had thrown himself on Reginald and was sobbing violently.

"Louis, I'm very sorry," said one. "Louis, you'll forgive me--I'm sure
I beg pardon," said other voices; and others added, "How good you are!--I
shouldn't have done it."

Louis raised his head from that dear shoulder, so often the place where
it had rested in his troubles, and said, amidst his sobs,

"Oh! don't praise me. I was very unwilling to