didn't quite know
whether they would speak to him or not. So he waited till one or two
greeted him with a shake of the hand, and a "how-de-do, Campbell?" two
or three more with a cold "hallo, Campbell!" and the rest with only a
stare.

Amongst the latter were Egerton and Warburton. In about five minutes a
step was heard on the landing-place below.

"Gas out," cried Egerton, "there's Lea coming."

"Lea" was a house-master.

No one moved to obey the order.

"Now, then," cried Warburton, "who's new boy?" Harry, where he knelt
at his bedside saying his prayers, knew he was meant; but he had not
jumped up from his knees to obey the order, when a slipper came hard at
him. He, however, first put out the gas, and was on his knees again,
finishing his prayers, when Mr Lea entered. All being quiet, and the
light out, he retired. As soon as his last step was heard below, one
or two voices exclaimed--

"I say, Jackson, go on with your story, where you left off last night."

"Oh, no," answered Jackson, the boy appealed to, "I ain't new boy now.
I've done my turn."

The majority of the boys did not quite like to tell Harry plainly it
was his turn to provide the usual nightly amusement of a story, for
they felt some sort of compunction towards him, because of his mother's
death, even though they had not spoken to him; but they did not
hesitate to talk pointedly about its being the new boy's turn; that
Jackson had done his turn; _he_ was the last new boy, and so on.

But as Harry took no notice of these remarks, Egerton solved the
difficulty by saying curtly,--

"Campbell, it's your turn to tell a story, so look sharp, and begin."

"I haven't got one to tell," answered Harry, as he sat, still
undressed, on his bed, unlacing his boots.

"Can't help that," said Egerton, "you must make up one. You're a good
hand at that, aren't you?" he sneered, brutally.

Those few words clenched the feeling of hatred that had been gradually
growing in Harry's breast towards Egerton. Then first sprang up within
him a great desire of revenge, which in after years increased with
Harry's growth--of revenge on one who had thus blasted his reputation,
it seemed for ever. It is true, he had but shortly risen from his
knees. But do not call his prayers hypocritical, because these angry,
revengeful thoughts had taken such root in him so soon. If we had not
these passions we should be divine. The only strange thing is, he was
so youn