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 Seymour proposes Mertoun as Captain. 
 
 p. 15 
 
THE 
 
 FIRST OF JUNE 
 
 OR 
 
 SCHOOLBOY RIVALRY 
 
 BY THE 
 
 REV. H. C. ADAMS, M.A. 
 
 VICAR OF DRY SANDFORD : 
 
 EDITOR OF "the CHERRY STONES," AND AUTHOR OF 
 
 " SIVAN THE SLEEPER," ETC. ETC. 
 
 SEVENTEENTH ^EDITION 
 WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY ABSOLON 
 
 LONDON 
 GEORGE ROUTLEDGE & SONS 
 
 Broadway, Ludgate Hill 
 
 NEW YORK: 416 BROOME STREET 
 i8£o 
 
BY THE REV. H. C ADAMS. 
 
 In crowft Zvo., cloth, gilt edges, with Illustrations, 
 price $5. each. 
 
 WROXBY COLLEGE 
 
 SUNDAY EVENINGS AT HOME 
 
 SUNDAY EVENINGS AT HOME. 2nd ScnCS 
 
 TALES OF THE CIVIL WAR 
 
 THE BOYS OF WESTON BURY 
 
 TALES UPON TEXTS 
 
 Cloth gilt, luith Illustrations, price y. 6d. each. 
 BARFORD BRIDGE 
 THE WHITE BRUNSWICKERS 
 SCHOOLBOY HONOUR 
 TALES OF CHARLTON SCHOOL 
 TALES OF WALTER'S SCHOOLDAYS 
 STORIES FOR SUNDAYS 
 THE WINBOROUGH BOYS 
 TALES OF NETHEK COURT 
 BALDERSCOURT ; OR HOLIDAY TALES 
 
 Cloth gilt, with Illustrations, price 2S. 6d. each. 
 FRIEND OR FOE : A TALE OF SEDGMOOR 
 THE BOY CAVALIERS ; OR, THE SIEGE OF CLIDESFORD 
 
 Cloth gilt, with Illustrations, price 2S. each. 
 THE CHERRY-STONES 
 THE FIRST OF JUNE 
 THE INDIAN BOY 
 THE DOCTOR'S BIRTHDAY 
 WALTER'S FRIEND 
 THE CHIEF OF THE SCHOOL 
 THE LOST RIFLE 
 THE ORIGINAL ROBINSON CRUSOE 
 

 TO 
 
 M. MAEGAEET 
 
 AND 
 
 GEOEGE H. HOLDEN 
 
 ®l]is HttU '%^\tm \% Insnitei 
 
 BV 
 
 mEiii ArrECTioNATE uncle 
 
 «. C. ii. 
 
 391 
 
rUEl'ACE. 
 
 Continuations are generally more or lesa failures ; 
 almost always, wlien the original has been popular 
 and successful. I sliall be neither suprised nor 
 disheartened if the present tale should form no 
 exception to this rule. My motives for writing it 
 are these : — 
 
 First, I regard " The Cherry-stones " a3 being, 
 for a boys' story, too short. It does not afford 
 sufficient space for the development of the various 
 characters it contains ; and the interest excited by 
 them is lost, almost as soon as it is awakened. 
 
 Again, it deals with one only of the two great 
 temptations that beset the time of life, at which the 
 chief actors in it are supposed to be. Previously 
 to the awakening of the passions of approaching 
 manhood, boys are tried for the most part by two 
 moral dangers, — that arising from the inclination 
 to conceal acts of disobedience by equivocation and 
 falsehood ; and that which springs from the bitter- 
 
n TREFACE. 
 
 ness of scliool or playground rivalry. The former 
 of these temptations is the tlK}me of " The Cherry- 
 stones ;" the latter, of the present tale. 
 
 If any parts of cither story should be considered 
 by parents or teachers as too light and frivolous 
 to find a place in works designed for so grave a 
 purpose ; I w^uld beg thera to remember the 
 acknowledged diflBculty there is in impressing boys 
 of the age herein dealt with. It is to little purpose 
 tliat we teach ever so wisely or profoundly, if the 
 teaching is not listened to by those to whom it is 
 addressed. 
 
 Bromley Colleob, 
 May, 1R6« 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTFR 1. 
 
 FAQB 
 
 The Ballot . . . , .1 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 The Five Votes 19 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 Sharpe's Letter • . . - • .34 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 The Discovery ...... £2 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 The Missinn; Volume . . . , . 09 
 
 o 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 The Match Begun SO 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 The Double Decision 107 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 The Mousetrap , .124 
 
 CHAPTER TX. 
 The Reckoning . . « • i 141 
 
CHAPTER 1 
 
 THE BALLOT. 
 
 It was a fine afternoon about the middle of May. 
 The bojs of Dr. Young's school were collecte 
 at the further end of their playground ; some 
 gathered in small gi'oups, playing at marbles or 
 catchbaU ; others seated among the roots of a large 
 elm, discussing, a-s it would seem, some topic o 
 general interest. 
 
 Tiiose who are familiar with the story of " The 
 Cherry-stones," will be already acquainted with 
 the chief characters of the present tale; but, for 
 the benefit of those who may not have that ad- 
 vantage, we will proceed to describe them. The 
 fine tall lad, of fourteen or so, with the blue eyes 
 and light hair, and pleasant, but thoughtful expres- 
 sion of countenance, is Charles Warbeck. lie is 
 talking to Erederick Seymour, the lad on his right, 
 whose quick and merry glance at once bespeaks hia 
 character. Near him are George Markland, "West 
 
 B 
 
A THE riEST OF JUNE. 
 
 and G^yles ; all of them well-grown, gontleniauly 
 boys, thougli with less, perhaps, of intelligence in 
 their faces than those before mentioned. That boy, 
 seated by himself, reading a book, in wliich he seems 
 so much interested as to pay no heed to the noisy 
 stir about him, is Edward Sharpe. His physiog- 
 nomy shows plenty of talent and energy ; but the 
 expression is not pleasing. It is too keen and 
 searching; wants openness and straightforward 
 manliness. Harry Mertoun, the hero of the tale, is 
 not present ; and his absence, and the cause there- 
 of, appear to be the main subject of discussion. 
 
 It will be seen from the above description, 
 that, notwithstanding the lapse of nearly a year, 
 few changes had taken place in Charlton School. 
 Mertoun, Warbeck, and Sharpe were still the 
 head boys ; but the two former were to leave at 
 the end of the half-year : Harry to enter at 
 a leading public school, and "Warbeck to occupy 
 a stool in his father's counting-house. Nor 
 was there much difference observable in the boys 
 themselves. Both were some inches taller than 
 when last introduced to the reader, and, it is to be 
 hoped, the wiser for the intervening months of 
 study ; but in other respects Charles was still the 
 same quiet, thoughtful character, and Harry, to 
 all outward appearance, quick, warm-hearted, and 
 
THE BALLOT. S 
 
 generous as ever. Not so as regards Edward Sharpe. 
 Ill many respects, this boy seemed to have under- 
 gone an entire transformation. "When he first came 
 to Charlton School, he had been more remarkable 
 for the facility with which he got over his schooi- 
 work, than for the talent or industry which he dis- 
 played in performing it. It had always appeared tf> 
 be his aim to do just enough to satisfy Dr. Young, 
 and to do it with as little trouble to himself as 
 possible. But for the last year past he had taken 
 to working with an energy and perseverance which 
 deemed to combine the best qualities of Warbeck 
 and Mertoun : and, as he was naturally shrewd 
 and sagacious, and moreover possessed a retentive- 
 memory, he had become a most formidable rival to 
 the two head boys. He had succeeded ar the 
 Christmas examination in carrying off the cipher- 
 ing prize from all competitors, and had stood next 
 to Mertoun himself in classics. So nearly had he 
 approached Harry in this contest also, that it had 
 cost our hero very severe exertions to maintain his 
 superiority. In other important respects his con 
 duct had been unexceptionable. He had been uni 
 formly regular and orderly, and had received high 
 praise from Dr. Young for good behaviour at the 
 close of the winter half-year. But with the boys 
 be was as unpopular as ever ; whose sympathy, in 
 
 a2 
 
4 THE FIEST or JUNE. 
 
 ovc-iy contest between himself and Mertoun, wa» 
 invariably with the latter. 
 
 Harry's own feelings towards Sharpe were but 
 imperfectly known to himself. He could but ill 
 bear to have his supremacy in Charlton School, 
 which had hitherto never been really assailed, thus 
 brought into question. The rivalry of Charles 
 Warbeck was very different from that of his new 
 antagonist. He was decidedly Charles's superior in 
 talent ; and if the latter had ever really disputed the 
 palm with him, it had only been because he was 
 slack and negligent in his exertions, and a little 
 additional energy soon regained his position for 
 him. But Edward Sharpe he felt to be nearly, if 
 not fully his equal in power, and decidedly his 
 superior in steadiness of application ; and to re- 
 cover any lost ground in a competition with him, 
 was a very difficult matter. Besides Warbeck's 
 ;j;entle and friendly nature, which seemed to rejoice 
 Almost as much in his friend's success as in his 
 own, disarmed all animosity : and Harry would 
 liardly have grudged him the victory, if he had 
 really obtained it. But his feeling was very differ- 
 ent towards Edward Sharpe. Probably the secret 
 dislike he entertained to him, which was even 
 greater than that felt by the other boys, had alone 
 |)revented his defeat at the Christmas examination,. 
 
TUB BALLOl. & 
 
 It liad awakened every energy he possessed lo to 
 utmost ; and the last month of the winter liaif-year 
 had been marked by severer application than Lo 
 iiad before displayed. All this, which, if undei^ 
 taken from right motives, would have been so 
 healthful for him, had the effect of heightening the 
 secret dislike with which he regarded his rival. To 
 60 great a pitch had this risen, that Harry himself 
 was startled at the delight which he felt when h«> 
 found himself victorious ; for it seemed to be occa 
 sioned less by his own victory than by his adver- 
 sary's defeat. He had returned to Charlton School, 
 after the holidays, half resolved to try and conciliate 
 Edward Sharpe — at all events determined not to be 
 his enemy. But as the half-year went on, and a fresh 
 and still more severe contest arose between himself 
 and Sharpe, his former feeling insensibly resumed 
 its influence over him. How Sharpe felt towards 
 him, it was difficult to say. He was a boy whose 
 manner varied very little in his intercourse with 
 others ; and rarely gave indications of what passed 
 within. Whatever, then, might be the secret feel- 
 ings of either party, they outwardly showed no 
 signs of enmity or aversion. 
 
 Such was the state of things at the commeuce- 
 mont of our story. It was, as we have said, a fine 
 afternoon in the month of May. All the school 
 
THE TIBST OF JUI^^E. 
 
 wer^ ns?embled at the end of their playground 
 under a lar^e tree, traditionally known among the 
 hoys by the title of " Morley's Elm." Eespecting 
 this title, it should be observed, there were various 
 opinions current among the antiquarians of Charl- 
 ton School. The more sober oortion held that the 
 '* Morley " spoken of was an ancient proprietor of 
 the school-ground ; or, as others thought, a former 
 pupil, who, many generations of boys back, was 
 much given to studying his lessons under its 
 branches. Some, who delighted to trace legends 
 back to yet more hoar antiquity, affirmed that the 
 Morley in question was the original planter of the 
 tree ; while others again, who, like Frederick Sey- 
 mour, delighted in the marvellous and terrible, 
 asserted that the aforesaid unfortunate Morley 
 had been found one morning suspended from its 
 branches, and lay buried under its roots : and 
 Seymour even went so far as occasionally to terrify 
 little Walter, by pointing out a slight swelling in 
 the ground, which he gravely declared to be the 
 spot where the bones of the ill-starred Morley were 
 deposited. But, be that as it may, it does not 
 concern our present story. The boys were not 
 thinking about Morley, or his elm, or any thing con- 
 nected with him ; but waiting, apparently not too 
 patiently, the arrival of some expected intelligence. 
 
THE BALLOT. 
 
 "Well, really!" exclaimed Marklaud at last, 
 after several yawns, '• this is pleasant work. "What 
 in the world can the Doctor have to tell Harry, 
 that can keep him all this time ?" 
 
 " I hope it is something agreeable," growled 
 Seymour, reciprocating his companion's yawn ; " it 
 bad need to be, for we are fast losing this line 
 afternoon : and why, I sliould like to know, need 
 we wait here till he comes ?" added he, as though 
 « new idea had just occurred to him. " We might 
 go out upon the green and begin our game. At all 
 events, we might at least pitch the wickets : we 
 could at any time leave off when Harry came." 
 
 "I think w'e had better not, Fred," observed 
 Warbeck ; " if you remember the Doctor particu- 
 larly told us to wait here, and he must have had 
 some reason for telling us. Besides, I feel pretty 
 sure that it is some good news which we should be 
 sorry to miss." 
 
 " Grood news ! Indeed, what makes you think 
 that, Charles ?" was eagerly asked by half a dozen 
 of the boys at once. 
 
 " Only that he looked so good-humoured when 
 he called Harry up," replied Warbeck. " Dr. 
 Toung never looks like that when any thing dis- 
 agreeable has to be told. Don't you think so, 
 Walter?" he said to the little boy who waa 
 
8 THE FIBST or JUNE. 
 
 standing near him, listening attentively to wliat 
 passed. 
 
 Walter nodded assent. " I tliink it must be that 
 Harry has got a prize of some kind," said he, " and 
 he knows we should all be glad to hear about it." 
 
 There was a general smile at the little boy's sim- 
 plicity. 
 
 " That is your guess, is it, Walter ? " said West. 
 " Well, I wish Harry any good fortune that may 
 happen to him, I am sure ; but I don't think the 
 Doctor would keep us here all this time in order 
 to tell us that ! Come now, who will give another 
 guess ? What do you say, George ?" 
 
 "I guess," said Markland, " that Mrs. Young's 
 brother, the lieutenant, has offered to take some of 
 the boys down the river in his yacht." 
 
 " Or perhaps," said Styles, " Squire Ellison has 
 invited some of us to see some fireworks in his 
 garden, as he did two years ago." 
 
 " Or perhaps," said Warbeck, " he means to have 
 the conjuror here, who performed two nights ago 
 at Dr. Duncan's — a rival for you. Tommy!" he 
 continued, turning to Tommy Brook, an urchin of 
 twelve, commonly known in the school as "the 
 Juggler," from certain feats of sleight-of-hand he 
 was famous for performing ; " I don't think that 
 at all unlikely." 
 
THE BALLOT. 9 
 
 " Or perhaps," said Seymour, " the cholera has 
 broken out in the village — or the Doctor is going 
 to give up the school — or the Prince of Wales is 
 coming here as a parlour boarder — or perhaps — 
 perhaps we shall know all about it now, for here is 
 Harry himself at last ! Well, Harry," he pursued, 
 as our hero made his appearance, with a letter in 
 his hand, " what has made you so long ? Here are 
 we tired to death of waiting, and Charles himself 
 half impatient." 
 
 " Some one was waiting to see the Doctor when 
 he went out of school," replied Harry, " and stayed 
 nearly half an hour : I was not with him more than 
 a few minutes before I came out to you." 
 
 "Well, and now you have come," said Sharpe, 
 rising, and closing his book, " what have you got to 
 tell us?" 
 
 " First," said Harry, " I am to send Walter to 
 Mrs. Young ; I mention that for fear I should 
 forget it. Next," he pursued, with some slyness, 
 as he looked into the eager faces round him, " the 
 Doctor has received a letter which has given him 
 much pleasure, and which he thinks it would in- 
 terest you to have read to you." 
 
 " Pshaw !" exclaimed Seymour, starting up with 
 an impatient gesture, " is that what we have been 
 kept here all this fine afternoon to hear ? Some 
 
]0 THE flllST OF JUNE. 
 
 one of his old pupils has got a scholarship or a 
 prize poem, I suppose, and * he hopes the example 
 will stimulate us ! ' I wish he would keep his 
 letters for school-hours. Come, let us be off to 
 the green at once, Harry ; we have no more time 
 to lose, if we mean to have a match this afternoon 
 at all." 
 
 The other boys seemed to be of the same mind. 
 
 " That's right, Fred, let us begin at once," said 
 Markland ; "our time is fast slipping away. Never 
 mind the letter, Harry, now ; we can hear it after 
 supper, or before prayers, or at some time when 
 we cannot play cricket. Come along, my lads," 
 and as he spoke he shouldered his bat, and moved 
 towards tlie gate. 
 
 "Come along," was the general cry; and the 
 boys, with the exception of "Warbeck and a few of 
 the younger ones, began to move in the direction 
 of the cricket ground. 
 
 " Gentlemen," said Harry, " if you will take my 
 advice, you will not be in so great a hurry ; the 
 letter may chance to interest you more than you 
 expect." 
 
 ""Well, well," rejoined Seymour, "if it must be, 
 it must. Let us have this wonderful letter ; only 
 make haste. I trust it is not a very lengthy epistle, 
 Kow then," he added, " my young friends, as Dr, 
 
THE BALLOT. 11' 
 
 Young says, let me call your attention to a matter 
 of some importance." So saying he seated liimself 
 in his old position; the boys also resumed their 
 seats, and there "was a general silence. 
 
 "Dr. Young desires me to inform, you," began 
 Mertoun, " that he has received the following 
 letter, enclosed in one from Dr. Duncan ; and if it 
 is agreeable to you to accept the invitation it con- 
 tains, he will make no objection to your doing so. 
 
 "Charlton Green, Wednesday, May 17, 184-. 
 "The pupils of Dr. Duncan's school present 
 their compliments to those of Dr. Young's, and 
 have permission to say, that they will be happy to 
 play them a match at cricket any day in the course 
 of the next month, if they can obtain Dr. Young's 
 sanction for accepting the challenge. They will be 
 glad to hear whether they are willing to play the 
 match, and if so, what day will be most agreeable 
 to them to fix for that purpose. 
 
 (Signed) " E. Fergusson, 
 
 Captain of Dr. Duncan's eleven." 
 
 As Mertoun concluded, a general burst of cheer- 
 ing made the walls of Charlton playground ring 
 again. 
 
 " Hun^ah," shouted Seymour, "won't we thrash 
 the Duncanites, that's all ! To think of their chal- 
 
12 THE FIRST OF JUNE. 
 
 ^enging us this summer, wTien we have the best 
 players in the school, Mr. Powell says, that he haa 
 ever seen during the whole time that he has been 
 usher here." 
 
 " Yes," said Styles ; " they have not seen Harry 
 bat this year, I expect, or they would not bo io 
 quite such a hurry to challenge us !" 
 
 " Or "Warbeck bowl ! " cried another voice. 
 
 " Or Styles keep wicket !" shouted a third. 
 
 ** Or Seymour hit the ball twice running into tho 
 Toad, as he did yesterday !" exclaimed a fourth. 
 
 " Yes, they had certainly better not give Seymour 
 full pitches, or Harry either!" said Styles. 
 
 " And I would not advise them to go out of their 
 ground when Styles is keeping wicket ! " rejoined 
 Markland. 
 
 " Then, gentlemen," said Harry, who had vainly 
 endeavoured to make himself heard through the 
 Juibbub, " I conclude you mean to accept the 
 challenge?" 
 
 "To be sure — to be sure!" was the general cry, 
 ** "Why ! you do not doubt that, Harry, do you ? " 
 
 " No," rejoined Mertouu, " I do not. But we 
 had better, I think, go to work in a business-like 
 manner. Somebody must write an answer to the 
 Duncanites, to begin with. Who is to do that ?" 
 
 "You, to be sure," said Seymour. 
 
THE BALLOT. IS- 
 
 *' And, in the next place, somebody must chooae^ 
 tlie eleven who are to play the match ; — who is t(v 
 do that?" 
 
 "You, again, if you like," replied Seymour. 
 
 " No, Fred, you are very kind, but I cannot take 
 upon myself to do that ; at all events, not without 
 some authority. Besides, we must have a regular 
 captain. You see they have ; indeed all elevens 
 have ; and I have no title to be captain more than 
 any one else. "What do you say, Charles, — you 
 have played more in regular matches than any of 
 us, — what is the usual practice in schools ?" 
 
 Warbeck thus appealed to, replied that so far as 
 he knew, there was no regular rule on the subject ; 
 but the head-boy at most schools was ex officio 
 captain, if he could play well enough ; that is, 
 unless some one was especially appointed. 
 
 " The head-boy," exclaimed Markland, hastily, 
 " why that is Edward Sharpe, is it not ? I don't 
 think, — that is, I don't believe, — I mean to say I 
 am not sure — " and finding himself wholly unable 
 to conclude the sentence to his satisfaction, he 
 made an abrupt and awkward stop in the middle 
 of it. 
 
 Mertoun's brow was overcast. Markland was 
 right. Sharpe had for the last day or two been at 
 the head of the first class, and consequently would 
 
14 Taic riKST or june. 
 
 upon Warbeck's plan be captain. Harry felt that 
 thougb he did not care much, — albeit, he was not 
 wholly indifferent, about being chosen captain him- 
 self, — he could ill bear the idea of being under 
 Sharpe's command. He made however no obser- 
 vation in reply ; while a general expression of 
 dissatisfaction gatliered on the faces of the assem- 
 bled boys, and a few half-uttered exclamations 
 intimated that such an arrangement would be by 
 no means a popular one. 
 
 Sharpe had hitherto stood a little apart, listening 
 attentively to what was going on, but taking no 
 share in the proceedings. Now he stepped forward. 
 "Whatever might be his secret wishes, he was far too 
 shrewd not to perceive that he would gain nothing 
 by endeavouring to enforce his claim. 
 
 " I beg you will not introduce my name into the 
 matter," he said ; " I have no wish to be captain. 
 You had better choose somebody yourselves, whom 
 you would like." 
 
 " To be sure," said Seymour, too eager to per- 
 ceive the lurking bitterness of Sharpe's words, " we 
 will choose a captain ourselves. "We will have a 
 regular election, candidate, hustings, and all ! "Who 
 shall be returning officer ? You, I think, "West ; 
 your solemn face will give the thing a proper 
 colour. Now then, has any one a candidate to 
 
THE BALLOT. T 15 
 
 propose ? If any one, let him speak now, or for 
 ever hold his peace ! " 
 
 There was a general laugh ; but no one seemed 
 disposed to answer to Seymour's challenge. " Why 
 do you not set us the example yourself, Fred?" 
 remarked Markland. 
 
 ""With all my heart," said Seymour gravely, 
 mounting upon the top of a bench which stood 
 close by. " Gentlemen electors of the borough of 
 Charlton, I have the honour to introduce to your 
 notice, Henry Mertoun, Esq., a gentleman with 
 whose amiable qualities you are all well acquainted ; 
 and who, I have no hesitation in saying, is in all 
 respects a fit and proper person to represent you 
 in the cricket field." So saying he lifted his cap 
 from his head, and making a profound bow to the 
 assembled crowd, descended from his eminence. 
 
 His humour seemed catching. He had no sooner 
 stepped down, than his place was occupied by Styles. 
 " Grentlemen," he began, "in the absence of a more 
 worthy person, it devolves upon the humble indivi- 
 dual before you to propose to your notice a candi- 
 date for the office of captain : and I beg to say I 
 know no one so fitting as our respected friend, IMr. 
 Charles Warbeck, upon whose virtues I need not 
 enlarge, being, as they are, well known to you aJl. 
 I beg therefore to nominate that gentleman!'* 
 
18 THE riEST Of JUKE. 
 
 There was another pause. " Has any one else a 
 candidate to propose ? " said Seymour. " No one ? 
 Then it only remains for our friend "West, the 
 returning officer, to take the show of hands and 
 declare who is elected ; always that is, unless a poll 
 should be demanded ! " 
 
 " No, no ! " exclaimed Mertoun and "Warbeck in 
 the same breath; "we will not consent to be 
 put up in opposition to one anotlier." " Choose 
 whom you like," added Harry, " but I will not 
 stand against any one, and least of all against 
 Charles." 
 
 ""What is to be done, then?" cried Seymour; 
 " are we to wait here all day until one of you over- 
 comes his native modesty so far as to undertake the 
 office ? Has any one any thing better to suggest ? " 
 
 " I will tell you what we can do," said Markland ; 
 " I have often heard my father tallc of the manner 
 in which they elect members at his club. When a 
 candidate is proposed, all the members present put 
 their votes into a bo;^ — a ballot-box I think they 
 call it — which is divided into two parts. Those 
 who want him to be elected, put their vote into 
 one division; and those who want him not to be 
 elected, into the other : and if there are more than 
 BIX votes in his favour for one against him, he is 
 declared elected. Wiiat do you think of trying 
 
THE BALLOT. 17 
 
 that now ? Suppose we put up Harry first, as he 
 •is above Charles in the school, and besides, was the 
 first proposed. If he is chosen, well and good : if 
 ^le is not, why then we can put up Cliarles "Warbeck, 
 you know." 
 
 The proposition was at once hailed as a bright 
 idea, and unanimously adopted. An extempore 
 ballot-box was soon formed, by placing a white hat 
 and a black cap inside a large box, which stood at 
 the further end of the playground. A marble was 
 then handed to each of the boys by Markland and 
 West, who were chosen scrutineers, with instruc- 
 tions to put their votes into the hat if they wished 
 Mertoun to be made captain ; and into the cap if 
 they did not. To prevent all possibility of mistake, 
 tlio additional precaution was taken of writing in 
 pencil "for" and "against" in large letters, and 
 placing them inside the two receptacles above 
 referred to. 
 
 " There are just slx-aud-thirty boys in the 
 school," observed Markland ; " West and I of 
 course do not vote, unless there should be a doubt, 
 Nor, I suppose, do you, Harry ; and your brother 
 is with Mrs. Toung, you know. That will leave 
 thirty-two to vote. So that unless you have five 
 enemies more in the school than I think you have, 
 Harry, you stand a fair chance of being chosen 
 
 o 
 
18 TUE nilST OF JUNE. 
 
 captain. Now Warbeck, you go first as the other 
 candidate, and then Sharpe and the rest in school 
 jrder." 
 
 Mertouu sate carelessly looking on, while his 
 tehool-fellows advancing one by one, dropped their 
 votes into the box, and returned to the tree. lie 
 had no very great desire to be appointed captain, 
 though it would have greatly wounded his pride to 
 be rejected. But he had no fear whatever of such 
 a result. He knew that he was popular among 
 liis school-fellows ; and besides, a boy must be 
 very much disliked indeed to be black-balled under 
 such circumstances. He considered the whole 
 thing in fact as a mere form. Great, therefore, was 
 his surprise and mortification, when Markland and 
 AVest returning from their scrutiny with faces of 
 blank amazement, announced that five votes had 
 been found in the black cap, and consequently 
 ? Tarry Mertoun was not elected I 
 
CHAPTER rj 
 
 THE FIYE TOTES. 
 
 A DEAD sileDce of several minutes followed this 
 most unexpected announcement ; and then the 
 boys forgetting, in their excitement, that the ballot 
 had been adopted for the express purpose of con- 
 cealing how they had voted, began with one voice 
 to disclaim any share in black-balling Harry. 
 
 "I am sure it was not I," — " JS'or I," — "Nor 
 I," — " It is impossible," — " It must be a mistake," 
 exclaimed a dozen voices together. 
 
 "I can't understand it," observed Tom Sawyer, 
 a good-humoured but heavy-looking boy, belonging 
 to the third class; who, together with his twin 
 brother, Eichard, had been additions to Dr. Young's 
 school within the last twelvemonth. 
 
 "Can't you really, Top?" said Harry Baker, a 
 lively lad of thirteen, " then it must be a poser, 
 indeed ! "What do you think of it ? " he continued, 
 
 2 
 
20 THE riJJST OF JUNE. 
 
 liirning to Eicliard Sawjcr, who stood hj, evidentlj 
 sharing his brother's perplexity. 
 
 This pair of brothers, it should be mentioned, 
 formed a favourite butt for the wit of the boys^ 
 and on their first arrival at Charlton, many had 
 been the soubriquets bestowed upon them. The 
 classical Mertoun had styled them Pandarus and 
 Bitias, while the younger boys had contented them- 
 selves with such humbler appellatives as Gog and 
 Magog, or Noodle and Doodle, and the like ; until 
 at last the question of their future title had been 
 set at rest by the wag of tlie school, Frederick 
 Seymour, who had dubbed them Top and Bottom 
 Sawyer; the extreme appositeness of which, had 
 procured its immediate and universal adoption. In 
 fact the only subject of regret was, that Richard 
 Sawyer's Christian name did not begin with B, so 
 that the initials T and B might have precisely 
 coincided witli iha noms de guerre bestowed upon 
 them. 
 
 " I think," said Eichard Sa^vyer, in reply to 
 Baker's question, " that every boy ought to tell 
 how he voted, and then we shall know who it was 
 that did it." 
 
 " A most admirable suggestion ! " said Seymour, 
 •'and one that would combine the advantages of 
 open and secret voting. "What do you say, gentle- 
 
THE riTE TOTES. 21 
 
 men ? Suppose we act on our friend Bully Bot- 
 tom's bint ? Warbeck, you voted first, suppose 
 you tell us bow you disposed of your vote. You 
 can speak next, you know, Sbarpe," witb a sligbt 
 empbasis on tbe words. " Wbat do you tbink of 
 tbe proposal?" 
 
 "If you ask me wbat I tbink," said Sbarpe, "I 
 must say, I do not see tbe use of an election of tbis 
 kind at all, if tbe result is not to be acted upon. 
 It is making a farce of tbe wbole tbing." 
 
 " Eeally," said Seymour, " tbat is your opinion, 
 is it ? I must say you sbow a most profound 
 judgment ! I tbink wc bad better put you up 
 next instead of Cbarles." 
 
 " Xonsense, Seymour," interposed Markland, "1 
 wisb you could be serious for two minutes ! I am 
 as mucb surprised as any one can be at tbe result : 
 but tbe boys bave a perfect rigbt to vote as tbey 
 like ; and we bave no business to try and find out 
 bow any one voted. I agree witb Sbarpe, tbat we 
 are bound to abide by tbe decision ; and I do not 
 see bow we can do any tbing, but put up Cbarles 
 Warbeck, as we agreed to do, if Harry sbould bo 
 rejected. AVbat do you tbink yourself, Harry ?" 
 
 " I am quite of your opinion," replied our bero, 
 struggling bard to preserve bis composure, " and I 
 tbink tbe less time lost tlie better. Suppose you 
 
22 THE riEST OF JITIiE. 
 
 give us the marbles again, and let us vote at 
 once." 
 
 " Stay one moment," said Warbeck, as Markland 
 was about to comply witli tliis request ; " had you 
 not better count the votes tlirough again, before 
 you proceed to a fresh election ?" 
 
 "Count them again!" exclaimed AVest, "why, 
 where is the good of counting tliem at all ? There 
 were five votes in the black cap, I tell you, and 
 only thirty-two voted: of course, therefore, there 
 could be only twenty-seven in the hat. iN'ever- 
 theless, if it is any satisftiction to you, I will count 
 them. Hold the hat, George, while I take them 
 out. Pive, ten, fifteen, twenty, twenty-five, — why, 
 I say, how's this? — twenty-six, twenty-seven, — 
 why, I say, you fellows, what does this mean r 
 Here are tliirty-one marbles in the white hat ! 
 Stay, let me count them again. Yes, I am right, 
 thirty-one! Hallo, I say, do you all hear this?" 
 The boys came flocking up as he spoke, " Do you 
 hear this ? there are thirty-one votes in tlie hat, 
 and five in the cap ! " 
 
 " Why then Harry is not black-balled," said 
 Tommy Brook, one of the younger boys, who, as 
 has been already remarked, usually went by the 
 name of "the Juggler," from an extraordinary 
 trick of tlirowiug up knives and catching them fey 
 
THE FITE VOTES. 28 
 
 tlie liaudle, whicli he was fond of exhibiting ; " thee 
 Harry is not black-balled ! Six times five arc- 
 thirty, and he has thirty-one votes in his favour." 
 
 " That is not the point," returned "West. " Bo 
 you not see that there are only thirty-two voters, 
 and that thirty-six votes have been put in ? Some 
 one must have put in more than one vote." 
 
 There was a second and still more painful silence. 
 The boys looked at one another with surprise, 
 mingled with doubt and suspicion. At last the 
 silence was broken by "Warbeek. 
 
 " It is plain," said he, " that this election must 
 go for nothing. I propose that we put Harry up 
 again, and vote openly. If any one has any 
 objection to him, let him speak out. I am not 
 fond, I confess, of secret voting at all, and certainly 
 I think you will all agree we have had enough of 
 
 IE." 
 
 A general cry of assent bore witness to the truth 
 of this assertion. 
 
 " I am very much obliged to you, I am sure," 
 said Harry, "but I would rather not be put up 
 again; it is clear that some of the boys do not 
 wish me to be captain, and I should be sorry to be 
 chosen against their wishes." 
 
 "But you forget," said Warbeck, "that there 
 ?,-ere thirty-one votes in the white hat. The whole 
 
24 THE FIKSr OF JU^"i!:. 
 
 thing is evidently a mistake, and ought to be set 
 aside altogether, as though it had not happened." 
 
 The other boys joined their entreaties, and at 
 last Mertoun suffered himself to be persuaded. 
 Every hand appeared to be held up for him ; and 
 no opposition being offered, he was declared captain 
 amidst universal cheering. It vras then settled 
 that he should, with Warbeck's assistance, draw 
 up a list of the eleven, and write the answer to 
 the challenge ; further, that he should submit both 
 documents to their approval at two o'clock the 
 next day, before delivering them to Dr. Young. 
 
 The conclave then broke no ; and as the after- 
 noon was now too far advanced to begin a game of 
 cricket, the boys chose sides for prisoners'-base ; 
 while Mertoun and "Warbeck, seating themselves 
 under Morley's elm, proceeded to the discharge of 
 the important duties intrusted to them. 
 
 " There is no doubt about the first five 0/ 
 six," remarked the former, as he jotted down th.* 
 names on the back of a letter, " Warbeck, Mark- 
 land, Seymour, Styles, West, and self. That ia 
 six." 
 
 " Yes," said Charles, " and Harry Baker. We 
 must have him for long-stop, you know." 
 
 " Of course," said Harry, " I forgot him, and 
 Tommy Webb also. He is very fair bat, and fielda 
 
TK£ FIVE TOTES. 25 
 
 capitally. He throws up better than any of us. 
 "Who comes next, Charles ?" 
 
 " Well," said Charles, "what do you think of the 
 two Sawyers ? They do not get many runs, it is 
 true ; but they will block, block, block, for a whole 
 afternoon together. We can put them in first, and 
 they win tire the Duucanite bowlers completely 
 out, before thoy come to deal with any other of the 
 eleven." 
 
 "That will do famously," rejoined Mertouu. 
 " Top and Bottom by all means ; it will deliglit 
 Seymour to see them at the wicket ! " 
 
 "Well, that is pretty nearly all," observed War- 
 beck ; " six and two are eight, and the two Sawyers 
 make ten. We have only got ten then ! Who is 
 to be the eleventh, Harry ?" 
 
 Mertoun made no reply. The truth is, he was 
 debating within himself whether he should propose- 
 Sharpe or not as the eleventh player. There was 
 no one among the remaining boys who was much 
 superior to the rest, and one or two were certainly 
 is good as Sharpe ; whose play, though occasionally 
 successful, was uncertain. Still he was head-boy of 
 the school, and Harry could not help feeling had a 
 fair claim to be chosen, unless there was any one 
 decidedly better. But, as has been already remarked, 
 he entertained a secret and growing dislike to 
 
26 THE FIEST OF JUIfE. 
 
 Sharpe; wliich was at the present moment unu- 
 sually strong, for reasons wliich will presently be 
 mentioned. A pause of a minute or two succeeded 
 "Warbeck's question. At last, Charles finding that 
 his friend made no answer, spoke again. 
 
 " Perhaps," said he, "we had better look up the old 
 scores again, and see who have got good iuDings iu 
 the matches this year," and as he spoke he turned 
 over the pages. " Here is Johnson getting twenty 
 runs, and Tommy Brook eighteen runs twice, and 
 Sharpe sixteen runs and again nineteen runs. AVhat 
 do you say to any of these ? They seem pretty 
 nearly equal. Perhaps Sharpe ought to have the 
 preference, being the eldest. What do you think ? ' ' 
 
 " I have no objection to make," replied Mertoun, 
 coldly, " if you choose to have him." 
 
 " Choose! — nay, Harry, it is you who are cap- 
 tain, not I ; I only made a suggestion." 
 
 " Very true ! But it was a suggestion of that 
 sort that one cannot well refuse to act upon." 
 
 " And why ?" exclaimed "Warbeck in some sur- 
 prise. " I do not in the least see why you should 
 have him if you don't consider him fit. Let us 
 hear what you think about him." 
 
 "Well," retm^ned Mertoun, drily; "if you ask 
 me what I think about him, I shall be apt to give 
 my opinion of him tolerably plainly. I think him 
 
THE riYE YOTEa 27 
 
 a mean, sneaking fellow ! That is what I think of 
 him!" 
 
 " I only meant, what you thought of him as a 
 cricketer," observed Warbeck, calmly; "but, of 
 course, if he is what you describe, it would be a 
 great pity that he should make one of our party. 
 What is your reason for thinking him sneaking ?" 
 
 " Oh, many reasons ! One thing that has oc- 
 curred this very afternoon shows him to be a sneak." 
 
 " What was that, Harry ?" 
 
 " Why, you remember that only thirty-two fel- 
 lows voted at that precious ballot, and thirty-six 
 marbles were found to have been put in — five of 
 them in the black cap. I have no doubt Sharpe 
 put all those five in." 
 
 "Indeed!" said Charles, looking very grave; 
 " that would be sneaking most certainly : but 
 really, Harry, you ought not to think such a tiling 
 as that, without some strong reason." 
 
 " Well, but listen, Charles, and you will find 
 that I have a strong reason. I happened to notice, 
 when Markland handed round the marbles, that he 
 gave a very peculiar one, with a large white spot 
 on it, to Sharpe. Well, I afterwards saw the nve 
 marbles which were taken out of the black cap, 
 when West brought them up, and the white-spotted 
 marble was one of them." 
 
28 TKE FIEST or JUNK. 
 
 " That prove3 that he put in one vole against 
 Ton, certainly ; but not that he put in all five." 
 
 " Pooh ! nonsense ! I am sure no other bov 
 black-balled me at all ! Why, you heard them all 
 say so in so many words ; and they afterwards all 
 held up their hands for me. No, no ; I am sure 
 he did it ! I do not mind his voting against me ; 
 that he had a right to do ; but he had no right to 
 attempt to prevent my being captain by such a trick 
 as that ; and I think," proceeded Harry, who had 
 by this time talked himself into a high state of in- 
 dignation, " that it does show him to be mean and 
 sneaking ; and I think, moreover, that the eleven 
 will be better without him than with him." 
 
 Warbeck pondered awhile. The affair was cer- 
 tainly a strange one. Some one, to all appearance 
 at least, must have acted dishonourably ; and the 
 circumstance of the wliite-spotted marble seemed 
 in some degree to attach suspicion to Sharpe. 
 Moreover he had observed, what apparently had 
 escaped his friend's notice, that Sharpe did not 
 hold up his hand when the open voting took place ; 
 and that he was the only boy who did not do so. 
 Still there was not the slightest proof against him ; 
 and Charles was too just and right-minded to con- 
 demn any one upon mere vague suspicion. An- 
 other reflection, too, occurred to him — that it was 
 
THE FITE TOTES. 29 
 
 uot wise, and scarcely fair of Harry, to have taken 
 notice of any thing which might show him how any 
 boy voted, seeing that the ballot was designed for 
 the express purpose of secrecy ; and that he had 
 no business to act upon, or reason from, informa- 
 tion so obtained. Nor would Mertoun himself 
 have denied this, or have thought of noticing any 
 thing of the sort, if it had not been that his latent 
 jealousy of Sharpe had stimulated his curiosity and 
 blunted his nice sense of honour. But so it always 
 is. The slightest breath of passion will dull the 
 bright mirror of honour, and prevent our seeing 
 clearly into its depths. After a moment or two 
 of reflection, therefore, Charles again addressed 
 Mertoun. 
 
 " "Why did you not charge Sharpe at the time 
 with having put in more than one vote ?" 
 
 " Why, you know, there was no positive proof 
 that he had done it : only strong reasons for sua • 
 pecting him ; and one could not accuse him upon 
 nothing but suspicion." 
 
 " Exactly so, I think you were right ; but I 
 think that if there was not ground enough for 
 accusing him, there cannot be ground enough foi 
 condemning him. Now, I think we should be con- 
 demning Sharpe, if we were to exclude him from 
 the eleven on account of our suspicions." 
 
30 THE riEST or juke. 
 
 " Well, I see you are determined to have him,'* 
 returned Mertoun, uDgraciouslj ; " and, as I said 
 before, if you choose to have him, I cannot well say 
 any thing to the contrary." 
 
 " jS'ot at all, Harry. I do not want to have him 
 if he is not fit. I only say that your suspicions 
 in this business ought not to go for any thing 
 against him. If he is as good, or very nearly as 
 good as any one else, he ought to be placed upon 
 the list. If he is not, he has no claim at all." 
 
 Mertoun could not but acknowledge the justice 
 of this remark. He felt in his own secret heart, 
 that Sharpe was quite as good as either Tommy 
 Brook or Johnson ; and that if he acted rightly, ho 
 would add his name to the list. Moreover, the simple 
 truthfulness of Charles's character rarely failed to 
 influence him for good. He had almost made up 
 his mind to follow his advice ; but as he cast his 
 eyes about him, to look for the pencil which he had 
 dropped, his eye fell accidentally — accidentally we 
 call it — on the well-remembered buttress, which 
 stood within a few feet of where they were sitting. 
 As he looked at it, the whole painful history of the 
 cherry-tree, and with it the recollection of Sharpe'a 
 malevolence, and the sorrow and disgrace it had 
 caused him, rushed into his mind. It turned the 
 doubtful scale. 
 
THE FiTE TOTES. ^l 
 
 " I will tell you what we will do," said he, sud- 
 denly ; "we will only settle ten of the players, and 
 leave it to the boys to-morrow to determine whether 
 Sharpe or Tommy Brook shall play. Nothing can 
 be fairer than that, surely ?" 
 
 "Warbeck could say nothing against this arrange- 
 ment ; although he had a vague feeling that there 
 was something in it which did not quite satisfy 
 him. They proceeded, therefore, to the second 
 part of their undertaking ; viz. the inditing of the 
 letter which was to be sent in answer to the chal- 
 lenge. This was soon completed, and Harry's 
 name, as captain, appended to it. A\''arbeck then 
 took both papers with him into the school-room ; 
 undertaking to make fair copies of them ; while 
 Mertouu, throwing himself at full length on one of 
 the benches underneath the shade of the tree, 
 passed the short time that remained before supper 
 in meditating on the occurrences of the afternoon. 
 
 It might have been expected that these woidd 
 have been of an agreeable nature. The cricket- 
 match in prospect was certainly the thing which 
 he would most have desired, if he had been allowed 
 to choose ; and the management of it had been 
 intrusted to him, both by Dr. Young and by his 
 school-fellows, in a manner which, notwithstanding; 
 the strange occurrence of the ballot, was on the 
 
32 THE riEST or june. 
 
 whole most flattering. Every thing seemed to pro- 
 mise that it would be a glorious affair for the 
 school ; and that he would be the hero of the day. 
 Nevertheless, Harry was by no means delighted 
 with the events of the afternoon. An ingredient 
 was wanting to his satisfaction, without which 
 it can never exist — self-approval. True, Edward 
 Sliarpe was not a better player than Tommy 
 Brook ; therefore, the former could not charge him 
 with injustice. Nor, again, could any one say that 
 it was unfair to leave the matter to be decided bj^ 
 the boys : and if an unfair decision should be come 
 to, it would bo their act, not his. But he could 
 not disguise from himself tliat he was secretly 
 prompted, more or less, by liis private feeling 
 towards his rival ; and that if it had been any body 
 but Sharpe, respecting whom the doubt had arisen, 
 he would at once, considering his high position 
 in the school, have decided in his favour. He had 
 a vague idea that he was acting a paltry and un- 
 worthy part ; but he tried hard to reason himself 
 out of it. He argued that he was not bound to 
 show Sharpe any particular favour : nay, he had 
 deserved no favour at all ; but rather the opposite 
 at his hands : and surely he could not be blamed if 
 ne did not go out of his way to bestow especial con- 
 flideration upon one who had evinced such a very 
 
THE Jfl7E VOTES. 33 
 
 diiferent spirit towards bim. But all his ingenuity 
 failed to satisfy his mind, or to persuade him that he 
 was acting uprightly and honourably. He did not, 
 indeed, suspect the whole extent of the evil he was 
 fostering in hij breast ; and if any one had told 
 him, that his resolution to leave it for the boys to 
 settle whether Sharpe or Brook should play, was 
 nothing but a cunningly-devised scheme to ensure 
 the rejection of Sharpe, who was, as has been al- 
 ready remarked, very unpopular, without incurring 
 the responsibility of doing it himself, he would 
 probably have felt highly indignant. Keverthe- 
 less, it is much to be feared that such was the 
 secret motive that prompted him to act as he had 
 done, however little he might choose to acknow- 
 ledge it to himself; and hence it was not without 
 a pang of uneasiness and self-distrust that he re- 
 peated that night, before stepping into bed, the 
 words of the petition, " Forgive us our trespasses, 
 as we forgive them that trespass against us " 
 
CHAPTER III. 
 
 SHAIIPE*S LETTEE. 
 
 The morning passed away mucli as usual, and at 
 two o'clock, according to agreement, the boys again 
 assembled under the great elm to hear the result of 
 Warbeck's and Mertoun's deliberations. The letter 
 was first read and unanimously approved ; and 
 then Harry declared the names of the players 
 selected. There was a little anxiety visible upon 
 some faces as the last few names were read out ; 
 but on the whole the list appeared to give general 
 satisfaction. No sooner, however, had the captain 
 announced that there being some difficulty in de- 
 termining whether Edward Sharpe or Tommy Brook 
 ought to be the eleventh player, it had been resolved 
 to leave it to the school generally to decide the 
 question — than Sharpe, who had sate quietly by, 
 listening to what passed with more interest than he 
 "iBually manifested in such matters, started up in- 
 
skaepe's letter. 35 
 
 diguantly from his seat — his usual self-possession 
 appeared to Lave entirely deserted him. 
 
 " I am much obliged to you for this, Mertoun," 
 he exclaimed, bitterly. " This is your doing, and I 
 understand your motive! Tou are not satisfied 
 with excluding me from the eleven, but are resolved 
 to make my exclusion as marked and disagreeable 
 to me as possible." 
 
 " I do not see that you have any right to say that, 
 Edward," observed "Warbeck ; who, although he 
 secretly felt that it would have been better to have 
 included Sharpe's name among the players, yet 
 could not hear so grave a charge brought against 
 his friend without remonstrance. " If Harry had 
 wished to exclude you from the eleven, he need not 
 have put down your name at all." 
 
 " You always stand up for Mertoun," replied 
 Sharpe, sullenly ; " I know it is vain to hope for jus- 
 tice from you in any matter between him and me." 
 
 " Oh ! Edward, I am sure that is not true," in- 
 terposed little Walter, his face growing quite crim- 
 son at this attack upon his friend Warbeek, whom 
 next to Harry, he regarded with the greatest affection 
 and reverence. " Charles is always fair to every one. 
 I don't think any body is fairer than Charles !" 
 
 " Well said, little one," observed Markland. '^^I 
 don't see," he pursued, turning to Sharpe, " r;l;iy 
 
 D 2 
 
36 THE FIllST OP JUTTE. 
 
 you have any right to say that Mertoun meant to 
 keep you out of the eleven, more than Tommy 
 Brook has. He might as well complain that he 
 was proposed in order to be rejected." 
 
 " You know well enough that Brook is a favourite 
 with the boys," was the reply. " No, no ; I am not 
 to be deceived that way ! I know Mertoun meant 
 that I should be excluded ; and what is more, I know 
 wliy he wants to exclude me, and so does he too !" 
 
 " And pray what may be the reason that you 
 know so well?" retorted Mertoun, with equal 
 acrimony ; " by all means let us hear it." 
 
 " It is not because I cannot play cricket as well 
 as Brook," pursued Sharpe, with increasing anger, 
 " but because I have committed the unpardonable 
 offence of getting above Henry Mertoun in the school, 
 and running him too hard for the first class prize ! " 
 
 " Shame ! shame ! " indignantly exclaimed a 
 chorus of voices, as the boys heard this speech. 
 " I am sure Harry is incapable of such meanness," 
 ci'ied Seymour, hotly. " And nobody but you 
 Would have thought of charging him with it," added 
 Jllarkland. Even Warbeck was roused so far from 
 Jhis usual calmness, as to exclaim, " Upon my word 
 Umt is too bad, Edward." 
 
 ** You are all against me, I know," retorted 
 Qharpe, looking angrily rcund on the semicircle of 
 
Sharpe claims his letter from Mertoun. 
 
 P- 37 
 
sharpe's letter. 37 
 
 which he formed the ccrtre ; " but I do not vahie 
 jour opinions a straw ! And as for the cricket- 
 match, I will save you the trouble of settling 
 whether I am to play or not, by saying at once, 
 that I do not intend to have any thing to do with it, 
 or with any other of your matches either;" and 
 turning sullenly on his heel, he walked away to the 
 other end of the playground. 
 
 "A good riddance!" exclaimed Seymour, as he 
 watched his retiring figure ; " that is the meanest, 
 most ill-conditioned animal I ever came across in 
 my life. I declare I could not play the match in 
 comfort, if he were one of our party. Just as if 
 Harry would try to prevent his playing because he 
 had taken his place in the class ! " 
 
 "Well; but to proceed to business!" said 
 Markland : " I suppose it is now settled that 
 Tommy is to play, is it not ?" 
 
 "To be sure, — of course," was the ready answer, 
 in which all but Mertoun and Warbeck joined* 
 
 " Well, then there is no need to debate the matter 
 further. You must remember to take the letter 
 and list to the Doctor by half-past two o'clock, 
 Harry ; as he generally goes out then, and the 
 answer must be sent to the Duucanites to-day. 
 And now T suppose the assembly may be dissolved 
 I will tell you why I want to cut the matter short," 
 
88 THE FIEST OF JUNE. 
 
 he resumed, drawing Harry's arm witliiii his own, 
 •nd leading him to a retired corner of the play- 
 ground. " I have something to tell you about 
 Sharpe. I had intended to speak to you several 
 days ago, but it went out of my head ; and it was 
 only just now that what he said about getting be- 
 fore you, and running hard for the prize, put me in 
 mind of it again. I am nearly sure that he gets 
 unfair help in his school- work, and I really think 
 you ought to be told of it." 
 
 "What do you mean by unfair help?" asked 
 our hero, a good deal surprised. 
 
 " I mean that his exercises — his verses, you know, 
 and themes — are looked over and corrected by some- 
 body, before they go in to the Doctor. Ah ! you 
 may well look astonished," he added, observing his 
 companion's face of amazement ; " but it is so, 
 depend upon it, nevertheless." 
 
 Mertoun made no reply for some minutes. To 
 do him justice, notwithstanding his prejudice against 
 Sharpe, he was shocked at such an imputation upon 
 him, as this amounted to. Moreover, his conscience 
 was far from easy at the present moment, on the 
 subject of the charges which Sharpe himself had 
 recently brought against him. Coarse as his rival's 
 language had been, and quite unsupported, as it 
 seemed, by any facts ; it had, nevertheless, touched 
 
SHAErE'S LETTER. 39 
 
 him in a very tender point ; and though he was too 
 proud to acknowledge it, even to himself, and far 
 less to his companions, he felt certain compunctious 
 visitings, which made him recoil more than usual 
 from entertaining evil reports of Sharpe. 
 
 " Really, George," he said at last, borrowing a 
 leaf out of "Warbeck's book, "you should not say 
 such a thing as that without very strong reason. 
 Besides, I don't see how such a thing is possible. 
 There is no one here, unless perhaps it is Mr. 
 Powell, who would be able to look over his work 
 and correct the mistakes ; and I am sure Mr. 
 Powell would not do it, even if Edward were to ask 
 him, which I can hardly think he would. Tou 
 don't think he would, do you ? " 
 
 " Certainly not," replied Markland. 
 
 " "Why then, who could ? " rejoined Harry. 
 
 "I don't think he gets help from any one in 
 Charlton," was the reply. 
 
 " Why, what can you mean, George ? He gets 
 help from no one in Charlton, and yet some one 
 does help him ! I can't understand what you are 
 talking of." 
 
 " ril tell you, Harry," replied Markland, moving 
 close to his companion, and speaking almost in a 
 whisper. " I have noticed that Sharpe constantly 
 receives long letters by the post, which he always. 
 
40 THE FIEST OF JUNE. 
 
 reads by himself — which, indeed, he never opens 
 when any one is by." 
 
 " Well, but that is nothing. He is always a 
 very reserved and mysterious sort of fellow iu 
 every thing." 
 
 " AYait a moment, Harry. Do jou recollect that 
 we went the other day to CumbrOv'^k meadows, to 
 bathe for the first time this year ; tli&t warm AVed- 
 nesday afternoon, you know ? Well, it happened 
 that after bathing the boys were rather in a hurry 
 to run in and see some new rabbits which Kob had 
 got ; and, in my hurry, I put on Sharpe'a jacket 
 instead of my own. We did not find out the mis- 
 take for some time, for we are near of a size, and our 
 jackets are the same colour; iu fact, I only discovered 
 the mistake by a letter, which I found in the pocket. 
 It contained one of Sharpe's exercises — a copy of 
 rerses on the battle of the Granicus. 1 recollect 
 his getting a high mark for the verses from Dr. 
 Young, a week or two ago. The verses were quite 
 covered with alterations, and remarks aU down the 
 margin, in a different hand from Edward's, it 
 was not a boy's handwriting at all, I am sure ; but 
 looked like some person's who was quite grown up." 
 
 "That was strange, certainly," said Mertoun. 
 " What did you do with it?" 
 
 " I gave it back to him, merelv saying that it 
 
SnAErE's LETTER. 41 
 
 was a letter of his which I had found. He made 
 no answer, but looked very uncomfortable ; and 
 ever since that I have observed, that the moment 
 he receives one of his letters he slips it into his 
 pocket, and generally glances at me to see whether 
 I am watching him." 
 
 " Well, I own it does seem suspicious ; and by 
 the bye, I remember now that Archie Lister, who 
 knows Edward's family, did tell me that he passed 
 some time with him at his mother's house last 
 Christmas, and that tliere was an elder brother of 
 Edward's who was a crack scholar at Cambridge, 
 and who helped him with his lessons. Perhaps he 
 may get help from him. But ojily think how mean 
 and shabby, George, when we are running so hard 
 for the prize, to try and get it by such means as 
 that ! He is certainly not over-scrupulous," — here 
 the affair of the ballot again suggested itself to our 
 hero's mind, — " and I don't suppose he particularly 
 likes me," — this was uttered with some hesitation, 
 for he had a disagreeable consciousness that he was 
 at least as much to blame as Sharpe in that respect, 
 — " but I hardly think he would go so far as this 
 comes to." 
 
 " Well, you have a better opinion of him than I 
 have, if you think he would hesitate at any thing. 
 What makes him always so close and suspicious 
 
42 THE FIEST OF JUNE. 
 
 himself? My father always says, that if any people 
 are always suspecting others of being rogues, they 
 are pretty sure to be rogues themselves ! And only 
 just remember, Harry, how meanly he acted last 
 summer, just before the holidays, in that business 
 about the — " Markland stopped short, and grew 
 very red. He had forgotten his companion's share 
 in the matter he referred to. Mertoun coloured 
 also. He at once perceived and understood his 
 friend's embarrassment ; and though he took no 
 notice of it in his reply, it was evident that tho 
 allusion had not been without its effect. 
 
 " What would you advise me to do, George, if 
 what you suppose should prove to be the case?" 
 he said. " Tou would take some notice of it, I 
 suppose, would not you ? " 
 
 " Yes, indeed ! I would not let him get the 
 prize in such a way as that, to be sure. "Why 
 surely, Harry, you would not think of such a thing 
 yourself, would you ? " 
 
 *' Certainly not. But the question is, what to 
 do. Let us consider the matter a bit. One might 
 go straiglit to Sharpe, and require him to explain 
 what has happened. But he very likely would 
 refuse to give any explanation ; and if he did give 
 one, we could not rely on what he might tell us. 
 Or one might report the matter to the head- 
 
sdarpe's letter. 43 
 
 master ; but then that would be telling tales : and 
 besides — " 
 
 " I don't see that," interposed Markland ; " you 
 would not be trying to get Sharpe into a scrape, 
 but simply to secure fair play for yourself, and, 
 indeed, for all of us. I don't call that telling tales. 
 And if you did not like speaking to the Doctor, 
 because you were personally concerned in the 
 matter, there would not be that objection to my 
 doing so — at least, not near''y so much ; and I 
 should be very willing to do it, if you liked it." 
 
 " Thank you, George, I am sure it is very kind 
 of you, but — but — you see there is no positive 
 proof; and one would not like — " 
 
 " Ay, to be sure ! Dr. Young might not like us 
 to charge any one with such a thing as this upon 
 mere suspicion : I see that," replied Markland, 
 musingly. " Perhaps after all we had better think 
 no more about the matter. It is only suspicion, 
 after all." 
 
 Mertoun's conscience could not but acquiesce 
 in this remark. He had not many minutes before 
 been blaming himself for having acted on a mere 
 surmise, and for having, in consequence, as he was 
 half afraid, done an injustice. Further, he had 
 done it in spite of Charles Warbeck's warning 
 against acting on unsupported suspicion. Here 
 
44 THE FIEST OF JUNE. 
 
 vva3 a case verj nearly tbe same, and a second 
 opinion almost echoing Warbeck's words. But 
 his animosity against his rival was daily gaining a 
 stronger hold on him, and he could not prevail on 
 himself to let the matter drop. 
 
 " AVe might obtain direct proof, perhaps," he 
 resumed ; " and then I should not mind telling 
 Dr. Young myself." 
 
 " Of course not. But how could we get that ?" 
 
 " Why, he might leave one of his themes about 
 again : and then it might be shown to Dr. Young ; 
 and he would oblige him to say who had corrected 
 it: for the handwriting would show that Sharpe 
 had not corrected it himself." 
 
 Markland shook his head. " He is too wide 
 awake for that," he said. " But I believe that is 
 all we can do at present. If any of his letters do 
 fall into my clutches again, I promise you I will 
 let you know at once. By the bye, where did you 
 say that his brother, who used to help him during 
 the holidays, lived?" 
 
 " Archie said he belonged to St. John's College, 
 Cambridge. "Why do you ask?" 
 
 " Because I recollect that the postmark of the 
 letter I saw was Cambridge. I am sure of it : for 
 the name Sharpe was half torn off, so that I httd to 
 look very closely to make out to wliom the letter 
 
SHAEPE'S LETTEE. 45 
 
 belonged, and I read 'Cambridge' quite distinctly 
 on it — But we must not stay talking here. You 
 must take tliat letter to Dr. Young at once, or be 
 will certainly have gone out. He is seldom in his 
 ertudy after half-past two. and it is now nearly a 
 quarter to three! So good bye, Harry. I will 
 keep my eyes and ears open, and my mouth shut ; 
 and I advise you to do the same." The boys parted ; 
 Markland rejoining his companions, and Mertoun 
 proceeding t-o the head-master's apartment. 
 
 Contrary to Markland' s expectation, Dr. Young 
 was not only in his study, but disengaged ; and he 
 seemed in an unusually cheerful humour. " Well, 
 Harry," he said, "you have brought your list, have 
 you ? Dr. Duncan was here yesterday evening ; 
 and unless he is deceived by his partiality for his 
 own boys, you stand a considerable chance of being 
 defeated. He was a famous cricketer himself in 
 his young days, and he says he never saw boys play 
 so well as some of his present pupils. But never 
 mind that," said the Doctor, good-naturedly, " I 
 might tell him the same, perhaps, if I had a mind to 
 boast, and there is no glory in defeating unworthy 
 antagonists. Let us see who are to maintain the 
 honour of Charlton on this occasion. Mertoun, 
 Warbeck, Seymour, Markland, West, Styles — all 
 the first class, I see. Well, perhaps, that is just 
 
46 THE FIRST OF JU^E. 
 
 aa well under the circumstances : for, I suppose, 
 this match will take up a good deal of your time 
 and attention during the next fortnight. Stay, 
 though ! Baker, Webb, T. Sawyer, R. Sawyer, and 
 Brook. The last five are not in the first class. 
 Then there are but six of the first class in the list ! 
 Who is left out ? " 
 
 " Edward Sharpe," replied our hero. 
 
 "Edward Sharpe!" repeated the Doctor, with a 
 keen glance at Harry : from whose face all his 
 efibrts to preserve a calm exterior, could not banish 
 an expression of embarrassment. " Edward Sharpe ! 
 Can't he play ? Why, surely, I recollect one 
 afternoon, about three weeks ago, going out to see 
 you play, and Sharpe was batting famously. Was 
 it not so ?" 
 
 Mertoun felt very uncomfortable. He remem- 
 bered perfectly the occasion to which Dr. Young 
 referred ; though he had forgotten the circumstance 
 of the Doctor's presence. It was the match in 
 which Sharpe had scored nineteen notches, and 
 which had been quoted by Warbeck, when he had 
 suggested, in consequence, that the latter should 
 be one of the eleven. 
 
 " He did play very well in the match you speak 
 jf, sir," faltered Harry, "but—but—" 
 
 "But what?" continued the Doctor, with an* 
 
SHAEPE S LETTEJI. 47 
 
 other and a yet more searching glance ; " do all 
 the eleven selected play better?" 
 
 Mertoun winced under the Doctor's eye. " The 
 boys thought Brook had better play," he said, 
 evasively. 
 
 *' The boys ! were the eleven chosen by tho 
 whole school, then?" 
 
 " No, sir," said Harry, with increasing awkward- 
 ness of manner; "only Brook. I chose the rest 
 at their request. I was appointed captain by them 
 on piu'pose ; and I read out my list to them after- 
 wards." 
 
 " Do you mean, Harry," said his master, in a 
 kinder tone, "that you put down Edward's name 
 to play, and that the other boys objected to it, and 
 wished Brook to play instead?" 
 
 " Not exactly, sir ; I proposed both names for 
 them to choose between." 
 
 " But why did you do that ? did you think them 
 equally good players ? If so, I think the boys' 
 decision was hardly a right one; for Sharpe, as 
 the elder, and higher in the school, ought to have 
 had the preference.'* 
 
 The boy was silent. He did not know how to 
 extricate himself from the awkward dilemma in 
 which lie found himself. Every answer he made 
 seemed to involve him in greater difficulty. Dr. 
 
48 THE FIEST OF JUNE. 
 
 Young saw that there was something behind, and 
 in some degree suspected the truth. But it was 
 always his principle not to inquire too closely into 
 the details of what passed in the playground ; 
 though he never failed to note carefully, in his own 
 mind, any thing which tended to the development 
 of a boy's character. 
 
 " Well, Harry," he said, " I shall not ask more 
 about it. But I see that you have forgotten to add 
 to your list the name of the boy who is to keep 
 the score. There must be twelve names on the 
 list — eleven to play, and the scorer. Dr. Duncan 
 called here yesterday, to say that it is his wish 
 it should be settled immediately who is to play in 
 the match. He says there are one or two bovs in 
 his school whom he could not allow to take part in 
 it, as being idle and ill-behaved, and likely to lead 
 others into mischief. Now, it has been arranged 
 that the twenty-four boys concerned in the game 
 are to dine in company in a marquee on the green, 
 and to pass the evening together at my house, or 
 Dr. Duncan's, afterwards. Dr. Duncan thinks it 
 would not be rigut to bring the boys just men- 
 tioned into companionship with my pupils ; and I 
 have promised that I will, in like manner, exclude 
 from my list any who might be objectionable 
 acquamtances for his bovs. In order to this, the 
 
shabpe's lettke, 4!) 
 
 jiames of tlie twelve boys who take part in tho 
 niatcli are to be settled at once. Now, I conclude, 
 from what you have told me, that Sharpe would bo 
 the next in order to play, if any vacancy should 
 occur among the eleven. I shall, therefore, add 
 his name as the twelfth. If all are able to play 
 (for, I am glad to say, there are none on the list to 
 whom I should feel bound to object), then Sharpe 
 can score : if not, he can take the place of any one 
 who may be disabled ; and, in that case, I think, 
 Harry," continued the Doctor, with a smile, " I 
 must come and score for you myself." 
 
 Mertoun bowed in silent acquiescence to this 
 arrangement. He did not venture to say that 
 Sharpe had refused to have any thing to do with 
 the match, in any capacity. He had had quite 
 enough of the head-master's questions already, and 
 had no mind to subject himself to a second cross- 
 examination. 
 
 After a pause, Dr. Young resumed. " I own 
 I could have wished that all the first-class bovs 
 should have played in this match. It would have 
 been more fair to all parties, under the circum- 
 stances I am going to mention. My old friend 
 and early pupil, Mr. Loughten, who was formerly 
 one of the under-masters at Westonbury College — 
 your future school, by the way, Harry — has written 
 
50 THE riEST or june. 
 
 to me to say that he wishes to give a prize to the 
 first class for the best Latin poem on ' Pompeii ;* 
 and desires that the compositions may be sent to 
 him this day week. He cannot postpone the time 
 of giving the prize, for reasons which I am not 
 now at liberty to mention ; nor does he allow me to 
 tell what the. prize itself wiU be ; but I know it, and 
 can assure you it will be well worth the winning ! 
 I did not get his letter until this morning, or I 
 should have proposed to Dr. Duncan yesterday, 
 that nothing should be said about the cricket- 
 match until the prize-poems had been sent in ; but 
 Dr. Duncan has now made his arrangements, and I 
 know that any alteration of the day — which we 
 fixed for the first of June, yesterday fortnight — 
 would seriously inconvenience him. And, after 
 all, it is not a bad thing that you should all learn 
 to apply your minds heartily to work in the midst 
 of pleasurable excitement. The only thing that 
 disturbs me is, as I have said, that Edward Sharpe 
 is not one of the eleven, and, therefore, his head 
 w-iU not be turned half so much as, I suppose, the 
 rest will be. But that cannot now be helped." 
 
 Harry again bowed, and was retiring, when Dr. 
 £'oung called him back. 
 
 "Ton had better take these papers, Harry," he 
 aaid, " and fasten them up in the school-room. 
 
shaepe's letter. 61 
 
 This contains tlie announcement of tlie prize, and 
 of the conditions under which it will be awarded. 
 You see all the poems are to be sent in with mot- 
 toes only affixed to them ; and a list of the mottoes, 
 together with the names of the owners, in a sealed 
 paper, is to be left with me. Mr. Loughten in- 
 tends to examine the poems, and decide the prize 
 himself. This other paper is the summary of the 
 marks for this week's exercises. They are, I am 
 glad to say, unusually high. Tour verses are very 
 good, and so are Sharpe's ; particularly his, which 
 are more correct than yours. Tou have the high- 
 est mark but one that I ever remember to have 
 given ; and he, I see, the highest of all. I shall 
 have no cause to be ashamed of my pupils' per- 
 formances, if they take as much pains with the 
 poems they send up to Mr. Loughten, as they have 
 done with these." 
 
 Harry took the papers, turning away his face to 
 conceal the disappointment and chagrin with which 
 he heard the news of another advantage gained 
 over him by his rival ; and which, in his present 
 state of mind, more than outweighed the satisfac- 
 tion he derived from his master's kind and approv- 
 ing words ; and, without a word of acknowledg- 
 ment or reply, left the apartment. 
 
 £ 2 
 
CHAPTER I\ . 
 
 THE DiaCOTEIiT 
 
 IlAEttY cast a hastj glance round the school-room 
 as he re-entered it, and was glad to find it empty. 
 He hastily fixed up the two papers given him by 
 Dr. Young, wafering them to the board nailed for 
 that purpose over the fire-place ; and then retreated 
 with all expedition to his favourite seat in the 
 playground, where he planted himself so as to be 
 screened as much as possible from his school-fellows' 
 observation. So many thoughts suggested them- 
 selves to him, that his brain felt quite in a whirl ; 
 and none of them were of a very pleasant charac- 
 ter. In the first place, he was vexed because the 
 Doctor had put Sharpe's name on the list, for he 
 well knew that it would be regarded as a sort of 
 triumph by his rival. He was not a little afraid 
 that the latter would tell Dr. Young that he would 
 rather not take any part in the match, and assign 
 
THE DISCOYEET. 53 
 
 Harry's jealousy of him as his reason. Some ob- 
 servations which the Doctor had made would make 
 this particularly disagreeable to him. In the next 
 place, he was still more vexed at Sharpe's having 
 gained a higher mark than himself for his verses, — 
 the very point, above all others, in which Harry had 
 hitherto held un.iisputed pre-eminence. "Who could 
 say but what he would succeed in carrying off Mr. 
 Loughten's prize from him ? He did not feel very 
 anxious to obtain this prize himself; indeed, his 
 mind was too full of other subjects to think much 
 about it ; but he could not endure the idea of his 
 enemy's success. He pictured to himself the face 
 of malicious satisfaction which Sharpe would ex- 
 hibit, should he prove the victor ; and the thought 
 that his school-fellows would sympathize and con- 
 dole with him if he should be defeated, afforded him 
 nothing but additional mortification. Above all^ 
 the suspicions which Markland had insinuated rela- 
 tive to the unfair help which Sharpe received in hia. 
 school- work, heightened as they were by the mys- 
 terious circumstance of the ballot, continued to 
 occupy his mind ; and he passed a full half-hour in 
 devising schemes how to defeat and oppose the:' 
 treachery he suspected to be at work. 
 
 He was startled by hearing some one moving, 
 about the roots on the other side of the tree. 
 
b4l THE FIEST or CTlfE. 
 
 " Who is there ?" he exclaimed, hastily. 
 
 " It is only me," said a little voice. " Oh, bro- 
 ther, I am so glad I have found you ! I have been 
 looking for you all over the playground and in the 
 school-room, but could not find you any where. 
 "Will you help me look for my marbles, please ?" 
 
 " Your marbles, Walter ! have you lost them ? " 
 
 Walter nodded. 
 
 " How many had you ? and when did you have 
 them last ? and how did you come to lose them ? " 
 
 " I liad four," replied Walter ; " two I bought 
 the day before yesterday at White's, and two I 
 won of Philip Hawkins ; and I was now going to 
 play another match with him, but 1 could not find 
 them any where." 
 
 "And when did you miss them ?" 
 
 " Why, you know, brother, Mrs. Young sent for 
 me yesterday, to pass the afternoon with her. I 
 left them quite safe when I went to her, but when 
 I went to look for them this afternoon thev were 
 all gone !" 
 
 " Well, but Walter, you should take better care 
 of your property than that. You should put them 
 away safe, and then you would be sure to find them 
 safe. Why don't you keep them in your pocket ? " 
 
 " Because it was so full already, Harry, that I 
 could put no more into it," said Walter; turning 
 
THE DISCOVEET. 55 
 
 out the contents of the pocket in question, as ha 
 spoke ; which indeed bore ample witness to th« 
 truth of this assertion, consisting as they did, of a 
 pegtop, some slate pencil, a pocket-knife with a 
 broken blade, two or three shells considerably 
 chipped, — as indeed was little wonder coDsidering 
 the company they were in, — several bits of string, 
 an apple, a lump of toffee, a letter partially adher- 
 ing to the last-named article, and a few odd half- 
 pence. To complete the description, the pocket 
 was liberally stained with ink, and garnished with 
 a small hole at each corner. 
 
 " Full enough, certainly ! " said Harry, who could 
 not forbear smiling at this miscellaneous collection. 
 " And where did you keep your marbles, then ?" 
 
 " I always keep them in my cap, under the 
 lining," said "Walter, producing the aforesaid arti- 
 cle. "See here," he pursued, pointing to a hole 
 in the lining ; " I left them here quite safe, I am 
 sure, when I went to Mrs. Toung yesterday ; but 
 this afternoon they were all gone !" 
 
 " And where did you find your cap, "Walter ? " 
 said Harry, a little startled, for a strange sus- 
 picion had come into his mind. 
 
 " Why, that^is the strangest thing of all ! I re- 
 member quite well leaving it on the seat near tho 
 buttress, but when I went to fetch it, it was gona 
 
56 THE riEST or jxtse. 
 
 from there ; and after hunting a long time, I found 
 it in a box quite at the other end of the playground.'* 
 
 Mertoun's attention was now fully awakened. 
 
 *• Tou said you had four marbles, AYalter, I 
 think?" 
 
 " Yes," said Walter ; " four." 
 
 " Should you know them again if you saw them ? " 
 
 "Oh, any where, brother Harry! The two I 
 bought at AV Lite's were streaked with red in a 
 very curious manner ; I bought them because they 
 looked so odd ; and the other two I should know, 
 because they had P. H., that is Philip Hawkins, 
 scratched upon them. I should know them any 
 where in a moment." 
 
 Harry made no farther observation, but scram- 
 bling on to the top of the root where he was sitting, 
 he shouted to Markland, who was one of a party 
 engaged in a game of rounders, and who, on hear- 
 ing his friend call, immediately joined him. 
 
 " George," said he, "what did you do with the 
 marbles with which the boys voted at the ballot for 
 captain yesterday ? " 
 
 " The marbles ? Oh, they belonged tp me ; I 
 lent them to the bcvs to vote with." 
 
 " Ah ! but you know there were some put into 
 the cap which you could net account for ; what did 
 you do with them ?" 
 
THE DISCOVEET. 67 
 
 " I put them into my bag with the rest. Of 
 course, you know, I could not tell to whom they 
 belonged. If we could have found out that, we 
 should soon have discovered who played that ras- 
 cally trick." 
 
 " I tliink I have discovered, George. Have you 
 got your bag of marbles with you ? " 
 
 " Yes, certainly ; that is, I have got it in my 
 jacket-pocket. I will go and fetch it." 
 
 The bag was brought, and Harry emptied its 
 contents into his lap ; and then calling Walter, 
 desired him to see if he could find any of his 
 marbles among them. The result proved the cor- 
 rectness of Harry's conjecture. Walter imme- 
 diately lighted on one, and then on the other of his 
 red-streaked alleys ; and after some search, on the 
 two marked with the initials of his little friend. 
 The whole occurrence was now satisfactorily ex- 
 plained. The four marbles left by Walter under 
 the lining of his cap, had been shaken into the bot- 
 tom of it by Markland, when he took it up to ex- 
 amine the votes; and with the one put in by 
 Sharpe, bad made up the number which had been 
 supposed to exclude Harry from the captaincy. It 
 w^as necessary, of course, that the discovery should 
 be announced to the whole school ; and it was 
 agreed that Markland, as having been scrutineer at 
 
68 THE riEST OF JJUfTE. 
 
 the ballot, was the most fit person to make the 
 communication, — a task, indeed, for which Harry- 
 felt little inclination. AValter, who was full of im- 
 portance at his share in the elucidation of the mys- 
 tery, eagerly ran off to .discuss the matter with his 
 own small coterie, and Harry was once more left 
 alone. 
 
 Ho was greatly moved by the discovery just 
 made. It was plain that he had suspected Sharpe 
 unjustly ; and he now saw clearly, what he had but 
 guessed before, that this unjust suspicion had in- 
 duced him to exclude him from the list of tho 
 eleven. And Sharpe had really sustained an iujury ; 
 for though the Doctor had entered his name as the 
 scorer, Harry knew there would not be nearly so 
 much pleasure in that, as in being one of the actual 
 players. The boy's sense of justice, as well as his 
 natural generosity, told him that he ought to make 
 atonement for this ; but it was not so clear how he 
 was to do it. No one of the eleven, not even 
 Tommy Brook, could be reasonably expected to 
 give up his place to Sharpe now ; for none of them, 
 with the exception of "Warbeck, were in the least 
 aware that Harry's suspicion of Sharpe's unfair 
 dealing in the matter of the ballot, had been the 
 cause of the latter' s exclusion from the list. It 
 would be difficult, as well as humiliating, to make 
 
THE DISCOTEET. 69 
 
 the secret bistory of the matter intelligible to 
 them : and, even tlien, Brook might fairly say that 
 he had been chosen by the boys on grounds alto- 
 gether independent of Mertoun's suspicions. Be- 
 sides, Sharpe had raised an additional difficulty by 
 declaring that he would not, even if asked, make 
 one of the players. To resign his own share in 
 the match would, he well knew, never be allowed 
 by his school-fellows ; and if he persisted in doing 
 so, the match would be altogether broken up. He 
 began to make that discovery which we all make, 
 sooner or later in life, that it is easier to do an act 
 of injustice than to repair it. 
 
 After much thought, he resolved to go himself to 
 Sharpe, and try to make friends with him. If he 
 could establish a friendly understanding between 
 them, he might get from him his real feelings as 
 regarded the cricket-match, and then, in event of 
 his finding that Edward wished to play, he might 
 privately appeal to Brook, confide to him the real 
 state of the case, and ask him as a personal favour 
 to himself, to surrender his place in the match. 
 If, on the other hand, Sharpe had really no wish to 
 be one of the eleven, there was no necessity for 
 saying more about it. He shrank rather from en- 
 countering his rival, and especially from making any 
 concessions to him ; but he made a determined effort 
 
60 THE FIRST OF JUNE. 
 
 to overcome his dislike. Again mounting the root 
 he looked carefully round the playground ; and per- 
 ceiving that Edward Sharpe was not engaged in 
 any of the games, he concluded that he should find 
 him in the school-room : or if not there, in the 
 library, a small apartment adjoining the dining- 
 hall ; the use of which was, during certain hours of 
 the day, allowed to the older boys for private 
 study. Thither, accordingly, he proceeded to look 
 for him, and in the latter of the above places he 
 found him. 
 
 Sharpe was seated at a desk with a pile of books 
 before him ; by one of which he appeared to be so 
 entirely engrossed as to be unconscious of Harry's 
 approach, until the latter was within a few feet of 
 him. He then looked up and started with sur- 
 prise ; and hastily thrusting the book he was 
 studying into his desk, waited with evident em- 
 barrassment to hear what Harry wanted. 
 
 " Edward," said our hero, in a friendly voice, ** I 
 thought you would like to know that that curious 
 business about balloting for captain yesterday — 
 you know what I mean — there being four more 
 votes put in than there ought to have been — well, 
 that business is quite explained !" 
 
 " Indeed," replied Sharpe, " and how, I shoula 
 b'ketoknow?" 
 
THE DISCOVERT. 61 
 
 Mertoun gave a short account of the discovery 
 no had made, to which the other listened in silence. 
 
 " Very satisfactory," he said, when he had heard 
 all. " Extremely satisfactory, no doubt ! but are 
 you quite sure that "Walter's cap was not the other 
 one ? How do you know that his cap was the one 
 chosen to contain the unfavourable votes ? It 
 might just as well have been the other." 
 
 Mertoun could not help being nettled at this 
 insinuation, but he repressed his vexation. " Wal- 
 ter wears a cap," said he, "and it was a hat that 
 was chosen to hold the affirmative votes ; besides, 
 Walter's cap is black, and the hat that was cho- 
 sen is a white one, as I think you cannot but 
 remembei'." 
 
 " Of course," rejoined Sharpe, " we all know that 
 it was quite impossible that you should have been 
 rejected ; but as the result of the ballot was set 
 aside, and you were made captain in spite of it, and 
 have the whole arrangement of the match, I do not 
 see what more you can want now. By the bye, the 
 Doctor left the list of the players here when he 
 came in a short time ago, I suppose by mistake. 
 I conclude, I am to thank you, am I not, for puttmg 
 me down as scorer to the eleven ? though I should 
 *lmost have thought that my name was written in 
 a different hand. la it your handwriting, Mer- 
 
62 THE FIEST OF JUNE. 
 
 toun?" Le pursued, taking up the list which lay 
 near him, and affecting to examine the writing 
 carefully. 
 
 " You can see plainly enough that it is Dr. 
 Young's writing," replied our hero. 
 
 " Dr. Young's ! Dear me ! why, so it is ! but 
 you suggested my name to him, of course ; did not 
 you?" 
 
 Mertoun bit his lip. He was growing more and 
 more angry ; but he remembered his own injustice, 
 and his resolution to make atonement for it. 
 
 " Should you like to be one of the eleven, Ed- 
 ward ? I wish you would tell me," he said, in as 
 gentle a tone as he could command. 
 
 " Thank you ; I am sure it is very kind of you 
 to ask me ! And suppose I should say I did like 
 it, what then?" 
 
 " "Why, then I would try and see whether it 
 could not be arranged that you and Brook should 
 change places ; the Doctor said that any one of the 
 twelve that we agreed on, might be made scorer." 
 
 " Thank you, Mertoun ; how kind of you to 
 think of me ! Especially to think of me now, when 
 this prize has just been announced, and the poems 
 are to be sent in in a week ! It would give me 
 such a much better chance, would it not, if I were 
 to be out practising all my play-hours with the 
 
THE DISCOTEET. 63 
 
 eleven, than, it 1 were to be able to sit bere all the 
 time, writing my poem ? I thank you, Mertoun ; 
 you are, indeed, considerate and unselfish ! " 
 
 Mertoun with difficulty restrained a burst of 
 passion. The charge insinuated against him was 
 one which touched him in his tenderest point ; on 
 which he felt all the more sore, because he was 
 conscious that he had not acted up to his own 
 standard in what had previously passed respecting 
 Sharpe. That any one should dare to say that he, 
 — Harry Mertoun, — would attempt to secure a 
 victory over an antagonist by such base and deceit- 
 ful means ; and worse still, that any one should 
 have even a colourable ground for making such an 
 assertion ! 
 
 " "We vsdll say no more about it," he said, proudly. 
 " It is clear you do not, or will not understand me ; 
 and it is useless my attempting to explain myself 
 farther: let us change the subject." 
 
 As he spoke, he took up one of the books which 
 lay on the desk, and which he saw was a work c * 
 Eoman Antiquities. " Ha ! the article on Pompeii. 
 "Well, you have resolved to begin your poem in 
 time, any how ! But that was not what you were 
 reading when I came in just now, was it ?" 
 
 It was now Sharpe' s turn to exhibit emotion. 
 " What is that to you ? " he replied, roughly, though 
 
64l THE FIRST OF JUKE. 
 
 with more awkwardness, as it seemed, than auger. 
 " It was a book," he added, In a milder tone, after 
 a moment's thought; "an am:ising book — a book 
 of my own; one cannot always be fagging, you 
 understand." 
 
 The tone in wliich this was said was so con- 
 strained and embarrassed, that Mertoun's curiosity 
 was excited. " I wish," said he, " as you seem to 
 be going to work again at your prize-poem, you 
 would lend me the book. You say it is amusing, 
 and I really feel as if I could neither work nor play 
 this afternoon. An amusing book would be the 
 very thing I should like just now." 
 
 Sharpe's manner showed increasing awkward- 
 ness. •'! have not done with it myself," he re- 
 plied; "and, besides, I don't much like lending 
 my books. They are apt to get dog's-eared and 
 spoilt." 
 
 " Well, but," persisted Harry, a liitle maliciously, 
 " I wiU take great care of it ; and unless I was 
 mistaken, it was only a green railway-book; so 
 that if I did hurt it, I could easily replace it. It 
 was a green railway-book, was it not ? " 
 
 " Whatever it was, I shall not lend it you," re- 
 joined Sharpe, more ungraciously than before. And 
 then, as though he wished to break off any further 
 conversation on the subject, he added, "By the 
 
THE DISCOTEEY. 65 
 
 bye, Mertoun, I see the list of marks for this 
 week's compositions is out. It was in the school- 
 room as I came through just now, and I made a 
 copy of it. I have to congratulate you, have I not, 
 on having got such high marks for your verses on 
 the death of Eegulus ?" and, as he spoke, he held 
 up a paper on which the marks in question were 
 inscribed; and whicli assigned five good marks to 
 Mertoun for the exercises in question, an'fl six to 
 Sharpe himself. 
 
 Mertoun's patience was fairly exhausted. He did 
 not trust himself to make any reply ; but turned 
 off upon his heel, and left the room. " Sulky, 
 ill-tempered boor!" he muttered to himself, as he 
 once more crossed the playground, and seated him- 
 self in his favourite retreat, under the shade of the 
 elm ; '' it will be long enough before I try to make 
 friends with him again, that I can tell him ! I dc 
 really believe he does not care one quarter as 
 much about being praised by the masters, or about 
 getting the prizes, as he does about beating me, 
 and depriving me of them : and that that is the 
 real reason why he is always fagging at his lessons. 
 And what is more, I don't think he would stick at 
 any thing that would give him a better chance of 
 doing it ! I wonder whether George will find one 
 of his letters about again ! If they fall into my 
 
C6 THE £IEST or JUNE. 
 
 Lands, I will show him no mercy, I promise him ! 
 And, by the way, how odd it was about that book. 
 I am certain there was something underhand con- 
 nected with it, by the way in which he looked ! 
 Could it have been an English translation of Virgil, 
 I wonder ? I sometimes have half suspected him of 
 learning his lessons with Englishes ! Well, it is no 
 ase thinking about that ; and, besides, I have made 
 up my mind that I won't suspect him again of any 
 thing without proof: but, of course, if proof of any 
 thing unfair should turn up, that would be a dif- 
 ferent thing. "Well, any how, there is one good 
 come of this talk I have had with him, and that is, 
 that we are quits now : for, if I suspected him un- 
 fairly of having black-balled me by cheating, he has 
 charged me quite as unfairly with having attempted 
 to entice him into taking a part in the cricket- 
 match for my own purposes. So, master Edward, 
 1 have done all I can be expected to do in trying 
 to make it up with you : and, if I catch you trying 
 to steal a march upon me, look out for yourself ; 
 for I am not bound to spare you, and I won't ! " 
 
 So reasoned Henry Mertoun ; and so have many 
 boys, and men too, reasoned before him, and so 
 Tivill they continue to reason to the end of time. 
 But it is very bad reasoning notwithstanding! 
 Had Harry paid due heed to the deep, earnest 
 
THE DISCOVEET. 67 
 
 Christian teaching of Dr. Young — who was himself 
 a practical example of what he taught — he would 
 have perceived that the trial of self-discipline, 
 which he fancied himself to have successfully sur- 
 mounted, only began where he believed it to end 
 Easy is it to ask pardon of those who are ready t j 
 grant it, as soon as asked : who go forth to meet 
 our repentant love with words of kindly welcome ; 
 and heal the wounds of mortified pride, ere yet 
 they begin to fret and gall us ! Where is the 
 efficacy, the pain, the self-conquest, of such a 
 humiliation as this ? But to listen silently to the 
 bitter reproach and the undeserved suspicion — to 
 hear our motives misinterpreted and our prayer 
 for forgiveness spurned ; and yet bear all patiently 
 as the just fruit of our own wrong- doing — to 
 persist in offering kindness though rudely rejected ; 
 and in requiting harsh words with gentleness, in 
 the hope of ultimately regaining the love that has 
 been forfeited — this is the true medicine of the 
 soul, the very bitterness of which proves our deep 
 need of it ! Mertoun's besetting sin at this point 
 of his life — as careful self-examination, aided by 
 recent events, could not have failed to show him — 
 was his jealousy of Sharpens successful rivalry. 
 This was a temptation, which should have called 
 forth the most energetic resolution and unsleeping 
 
 F 2 
 
GS THE IIBST or JFITE. 
 
 vigilance, if it was to be successfully overcome^ 
 Not one suspicion should have entered his mind, 
 but it should instantly have been rejected; not 
 one liard thought of his rival should have suggested 
 itself, but it should have been made the subject of 
 determined resistance, and earnest prayer. To 
 hope to subdue the evil spirit by once facing it, 
 and after the first unsuccessful attempt resting 
 inactive, and allowing it to take its own course, 
 was as unwise as it would be to cast one bucket of 
 water on a rising conflagration, and then to sit 
 down and let it burn on unresisted. 
 
 Young reader, do you say that these thought* 
 Are too grave for your time of life, and belong only, 
 to maturer years ? Trust me, he who has a long 
 and toilsome journey to accomplish, had better set 
 out in the dew and freshness of the early morning, 
 if he means to reach his resting-place before tha 
 shadows of evening fall upon him I 
 
CHAPTER V. 
 
 V 
 
 TUE MISSING TOLTJME. 
 
 A. WEEK had passed. Dr. Young's eleven were 
 engaged in a practising match with a rival party, 
 got up for the purpose, consisting of the ushers, 
 three or four of the Doctor's former pupils residing 
 in Charlton, and some of the next best players 
 among the boys, to make up the number. It was 
 the second innings of the eleven : they were in high 
 practice, and capital spirits. On a seat which had 
 been made under one of the elms, or stretched on 
 the turf near it, were Mertoun, Seymour, and one 
 or two others of the first-class boys, watching the 
 progress of the game. 
 
 " How steadily Charles is playing," remarked 
 Styles; "he blocks Mr. Powell's bail-balls better 
 than any one I ever saw." 
 
 "And so is Webb," said Mertoun. "Ah! well 
 3it, Tommy!" he shouted, as the ball came flying 
 
70 THE riEST or JTJIsE. 
 
 towards them ; " three runs at the least ! If they 
 onlj play as well against the Duncanites next week, 
 we shall not be disgraced, at all events." 
 
 "By the way, Harry," said Markland, "talking 
 of the Duncanites, I had a sight of their eleven 
 yesterday. You know I had leave to walk part of 
 the way to the railroad with my brother when he 
 came to see me, and- as I came back, they were 
 practising on the green near Duncan's house." 
 
 "Av, indeed!" exclaimed several voices with 
 eager interest. " And what did you think of their 
 play ? " 
 
 " Why," replied Markland, " I hardly knew what 
 to think of it. The bowling and fielding were 
 first-rate. There is one fellow who bowls very 
 swift and straight ; and another. Holt I think they 
 called him, who pitohes his balls underhand quite 
 slow, but all as straight as a line, and a good 
 distance : and I saw one or two capital catches. 
 The batting, however, seemed to me to be very 
 inferior ; but then I do not know whether any of 
 their eleven were in." 
 
 " I know something of one of the fellows there," 
 said "West, " a little fellow who has only been there 
 one half-year; he told me that Fergusson and a 
 fellow called Townsend, were their great bats ; and 
 Holt also was a good bat, and their best bowler.** 
 
THE MISStNG TOLTJME. 71 
 
 " Was the bowling better than ours, do you 
 think, George?" asked Harry. 
 
 "Not better than Charles's, I think; but th© 
 swift bowler's balls seemed to me to be steadier 
 than either Fred's bowling, or yours, Harry. But 
 then the batting I saw was not fit, as I said before, 
 to compare with any of our best bats ; nor do I 
 think our fellows would have missed any of the 
 catches. — Hallo ! there goes Charles's wicket ! 
 "Who is to go in now ? " 
 
 " I," said Brook, jumping up and seizing his bat. 
 " But I hope Mr. PoweU will not give me such 
 balls as those, or I shall soon be back again." 
 
 Charles now joined them, and the conversation 
 turned to other subjects. 
 
 " Have you finished your poem, Charles ? " asked 
 one of the younger boys. " They are to be sent 
 off to-morrow, are they not ? " 
 
 " Yes, they are to be delivered in before ten 
 o'clock to-night, to Mrs. Young, and to go off by 
 the early post to-morrow," replied Warbeck. " I 
 have finished mine all but a few lines. I found the 
 subject very difficult." 
 
 " Yes," said Styles, " there are so many par- 
 ticulars one could get very little information about. 
 By the way, what a curious thing it is about that 
 book, that it should have been missing the very 
 
72 THE FlEdT OF JUNE. 
 
 day the subject was given out, and no one know 
 any thing about it." 
 
 "Nay," replied "Warbeck, "we do not know 
 that it was not missing before then ; we certainly 
 found out then that it was not in the library, but 
 for any thing we know it might have been missing 
 before." 
 
 " It was certainly in the library," rejoined the 
 other, " the last time the books were looked 
 through, and that is not more than a month ago. 
 You may remember I helped you examine them, 
 Charles, and I distinctly recollect seeing it there 
 myself, and reading ' Last Days of Pompeii ' quite 
 plain on the back of it." 
 
 " No one doubts that it was there then ; but it 
 might have been taken out soon afterwards," said 
 Charles. 
 
 " Ah, but by whom ? No one can take a book 
 out except through you, and it surely could not 
 have escaped your memory, if any one had asked 
 you for it, — even if the boy himself had forgotten 
 all about it." 
 
 " "Well," said Seymour, "it looks very suspicious 
 against somebody. I wish we had asked the Doctor 
 about it sooner. Those two days lost in maldng 
 the search were most unluckv." 
 
 " We could not possibly reckon on Charles not 
 
TUE MISSING VOLUME. 73 
 
 finding the Doctor in when he went to him," said 
 "West ; " nor on the Doctor being summoned away 
 immediately afterwards, and being away for three 
 whole days. I never recollect such a thing hap- 
 pening since I have been here." 
 
 " And," added Warbeck, "you know, Pred, that 
 Mr. Powell did ask all the boys whether they had 
 taken it, or had it in their possession, and they all 
 said positively they had not ; so that I do not see 
 how it can be suspicious against any one." 
 
 " Suspicious or not, there goes the Juggler's 
 wicket, and that is the last ! " exclaimed Styles, as 
 Tommy Brook's bails were seen flying in the air. 
 " Eeckon up the runs, Harry ! Seventy-eight, and 
 ninety-six the first innings ; and they got fifty-two, 
 did they ? Then they must get a hundred and 
 twenty-three to beat us ! AVell, I don't think they 
 will do that ! " 
 
 The rest of the party here joined them, and a 
 consultation took place as to the expediency of 
 finishing the match. But it was agreed that the 
 afternoon was too far advanced, and that the 
 second innings of Mr. Powell's side had better be 
 deferred till the next half-holiday. The concourse, 
 therefore, dispersed ; some to their own homes in 
 the town, some into the school premises, leaving a 
 small coterie behind, who continued to loiter under 
 
74 THE FIEST OF JUNE. 
 
 the shade of the trees, still discussing the probabie 
 issue of the two great subjects of interest — the 
 prize-poem, and the cricket-match. 
 
 " How hot it has been," observed Seymour, " for 
 the last few days ; this long grass is quite cooling 
 to one's feet." 
 
 " Yes," said "West, " it is extraordinary weather 
 for the time of year. Do you know the milkman 
 this morning said, that there was a rumour that 
 several mad dogs had been killed in a village a few 
 miles off? A farmer's dog had gone mad, he said, 
 at Knowlton, and bitten several dogs." 
 
 " I think somebody has bitten that fellow, 
 Sharpe," observed Seymour ; "no one in his senses 
 would work during tliis hot weather as he has been 
 doing for this last week ; I don't believe he has 
 been out of the school-room since last Thursday, or 
 had any thing but a dictionary and a gradus in his 
 hand all the time the Doctor has been away. I 
 hope he won't get this prize : but his not playing^ 
 in the match gives Jiim a gi^eat advantage. I 
 almost wish we had chosen him instead of 
 Brook, after all. But, never mind ; he shan't get 
 it, shall he, Walter?" he continued, turning to 
 the little boy. who had joined them a few minutea 
 before. 
 
 " Ah ! " said Walter, pursing up his mouth in 
 
THE MISSING YOLUME. 76 
 
 reply to this appeal ; " I know something about it, 
 that you don't ! " 
 
 " About what ? about the prize, or about Edward 
 Sharpe r" 
 
 " About both ! " replied Walter, with an oracular 
 nod of the head. 
 
 " Indeed, Walter ; and what may that be ?" 
 
 " Why, I know that he does not pftss all his time, 
 as you say, in reading nothing but dictionaries and 
 graduses ; I know he amuses himself with reading 
 story-books; and so," added Walter, with the 
 logic proper to his time of life, " and so I think 
 Harry will get the prize, and not he.'* 
 
 " And how do you know what Edward reads, I 
 should like to ask?" rejoined Seymour, amused at 
 the little boy's reasoning. 
 
 " Why, I'll tell you, Erederick. I was playing 
 hide-and-seek, you Iniow, this afternoon with Philip 
 Hawkins, and Alfred Smith, and EdwardThomas, and 
 one or two others, and it came to my turn to hide. 
 Well, I climbed up into the hollow elm yonder, and I 
 had not been there five minutes, when Edward Sharpe 
 came and sat down among the roots, just under me. 
 I could see him through a hole in the bark ; and I 
 saw that he was reading a story-book — a green 
 railway-book, like the one Harry bought at the 
 station when we came here last winter." 
 
76 THE riBST OJT JUNE. 
 
 " Did you see -wliat the book was ?" said Harry, 
 looking up with sudden interest, and speaking for 
 the first time. 
 
 " No," said "Walter, " I was too far off to see the 
 words ; besides, Edward heard me moving about 
 in the tree, and jumped up immediately to see who 
 it was, and I asked him what he was reading, but 
 he would not tell me." 
 
 "What did he say when you asked him?" in- 
 xjuired IMarkland. 
 
 " He was very angry, though I am sure I don't 
 know why ; and he said something about a spy. 
 I don't know what a spy means, but I recollect that 
 he said that, because I thought that he meant that 
 the book he was reading was called 'the Spy.' 
 Don't you remember, Harry, that was the name of 
 the book you bought at the railway station ?" 
 
 " Well, go on, AValter," said Seymour, who was 
 much amused at the narrative ; " what did you say- 
 to him then?" 
 
 " Why, Frederick, I thought he might have found 
 the book lying about, and not know to whom it 
 belonged ; so I told him I thought it was Harry's 
 book, and I offered to take it to Harry and ask him 
 to lend it him ; because I thought it would not be 
 right for him to have Harry's book without his 
 leave." 
 
THE MISSING YOLUME. 77 
 
 ** Assuredly not," said Seymour, gravelj , " and 
 bow did he receive your proposal ?" 
 
 " Why, he was more angry, I think, than before 
 and said the book did not belong to Harry, nor to mo- 
 either, but to himself; and then he put it into his- 
 pocket, and looked as if he wanted me to go away. 
 But I was sorry I had made him angry, and did nob 
 want to seem unkind, so I asked him whether he 
 did not think it would be a famous match with the 
 Duncanites, and whether he would not have liked 
 to be one of the players. I am sure I should," said 
 the little fellow, innocently, " and so I should have 
 thought would every one." 
 
 There was a general laugh. 
 
 " What did he say to that ? " asked several voices. 
 
 " I should not like to tell you what he said," re- 
 plied Walter, colouring ; " he used very bad words, 
 and told me I was a little tiresome fool, and had 
 better be off or he would box my ears ; so I told 
 him it was naughty to say fool, or to use wicked 
 words, and that Harry would not let him box my 
 ears unless I deserved it, and then I came away." 
 
 Mertoun had listened to the latter part of this 
 conversation with profound attention. He had not 
 forgotten the circumstance of his having seen Sharpe 
 reading a green railway-book, when he had accosted 
 liira ? few days before in the library nor the hur- 
 
78 THE FIEST OF JUNE. 
 
 ried manner in which he had thrust it into the desk 
 ■when he perceived his approach. He could not 
 help connecting this fact with the disappearance of 
 "the Last Days of Pompeii" from the school-library. 
 He had himself, it should be mentioned, in the first 
 instance, discovered the absence of the book in ques- 
 tion. He had recollected on the morning after his 
 interview with Sharpe, that Bulwer's romance was 
 one of the books added to the catalogue about a 
 twelvemonth before ; and thinking it would be of 
 use to him in the composition of his poem, had gone 
 to look for it. The school-library, it may be ob- 
 served, en passant, was a collection of books pre- 
 sented by various persons, old pupils and others, 
 for the use of Dr. Young's scholars ; and consisted 
 partly of histories, partly of voyages and travels, 
 with a few works of fiction, which might be useful 
 to the boys in their school- work, or constitute a 
 harmless amusement on wet days and winter even- 
 ings. Charles "Warbeck acted as librarian, and was 
 the only person, excepting of course the Doctor, 
 who had a key. To Charles, therefore, Harry had 
 applied, and great was the surprise of both boys 
 when it was discovered that the book was missing. 
 A careful search was immediately instituted, but 
 not a trace of it could be found. After two days 
 passed in fruitless enquiry, the librarian had gone to 
 
THE MISSIITG YOLTJME. 79 
 
 Dr. Young ; but he was not in his study when 
 Bought for ; and on the day following, the head- 
 master had been suddenly summoned away by the 
 illness of his sister, and had not yet retiu*ned, 
 though expected that evening. The disappearance 
 of the book, just as it was likely to be of use to the 
 boys in their prize-poems, was extraordinary ; and 
 Harry, as has been already observed, could not help 
 thinking that the book which he had seen Sharpe 
 hide out of the way, might be the very one that was 
 missing. True, he had just had a lesson against 
 indulging unsupported suspicion, which had made 
 a great impression on him ; and he had abstained, 
 in consequence, from hinting his impression to any 
 of his school-fellows : nay, had at first endeavoured 
 to banish his suspicions altogether. But as day 
 after day went on, and he found himself progressing 
 but indifferently with his own poem, and watched 
 Sharpe' s self-satisfied look, which seemed already to 
 anticipate success, his old feeling gradually returned 
 upon him. He began to speculate more and more 
 on the likelihood of Sharpe's having abstracted the 
 book. This soon brought back the other suspicion 
 suggested to him by Markland, that his opponent 
 obtained unfair help in his compositions ; and his 
 continually harping on these subjects so distracted 
 his mind, that he had not been able to bestow any 
 
80 THE riEST OF JU^'E. 
 
 tiling like his usual attention on his own poem ; 
 although it was a subject into which he would at 
 other times have entered heartily and successfully. 
 The story just told by his little brother, it will 
 readily be believed, had greatly heightened his sus- 
 picions ; and he pondered in silent abstraction over 
 the steps which he should take to unmask the 
 underhand dealing which, as he was now more per- 
 suaded than ever, was in operation. At one time 
 he thought of openly charging Sharpe with it before 
 the boys, and challenging him to open his box and 
 desk for a search : at another, of appealing to the 
 head-master as soon as he returned. But the pos- 
 sibility of Sharpe's cunning proving too much for 
 him made him hesitate before adopting either 
 scheme. He was aroused from the brown study 
 into which he had fallen, by the mention of his 
 rival's name. 
 
 " "What could have brought Sharpe out to-day, I 
 wonder ? " observed Seymour ; " I thought he had 
 made a vow not to quit his desk until his poem had 
 gone in." 
 
 "Don't you know," said "West, " that Mrs. Young 
 took the opportunity of the Doctor's absence to 
 have the school-room and library thoroughly cleaned 
 out, and she said that none of the fellows should 
 stay in the hous t^<^ it was being done ; so that 
 
THE MISSING YOLTJME. 81 
 
 Gur friend has been driven out, like an owl into the 
 sunshine ?" 
 
 "A most ill-omened bird, indeed!" remarked 
 Seymour ; " but haUo ! what are they doing down 
 in the road there ? There, don't you see, by the 
 cottages, at the corner of Knowlton-lane ?" 
 
 ^'See! to be sure I do," replied "Westj "but it 
 is nothing but a lot of boys bullying an unhappy 
 dog, I believe. Here come more of them — boys 
 and men too ! I say, if they don't take care they 
 will run over our friend the owl there, under his 
 hollow tree." 
 
 He had scarcely spoken, when to their surprise, 
 Sharpe suddenly started up and ran towards them 
 in the wildest confusion and alarm. In an instant 
 he was among them. " E-un, run," he shouted, 
 " for your lives, there is a mad dog coming this 
 way!" 
 
 Kot a word more was necessary. Throwing 
 away bats, stumps, and every thing that could 
 impede flight, the little knot of boys ran at the top 
 of their speed towards Dr. Young's house, which 
 fortunately was only just the other side of the road. 
 The last of them had scarcely entered, and the gate, 
 which fastened with a spring lock, been hastily 
 closed — when the rabid animal, covered with dust 
 -and blood, and dropping slaver from his open jaws, 
 
 G 
 
82 THE riEST or JUNE. 
 
 daslied furiously against the bars in pursuit. Too 
 exhausted to struggle, and scarcely able to rise, it 
 was speedily struck down and despatched ; and the 
 crowd having satisfied themselves that life was 
 extinct, flung the carcass into the neighbouring 
 pond, and dispersed almost as suddenly as they had 
 appeared. It was all over so rapidly, that the boys 
 could hardly believe it had taken place ! 
 
 It will easily be believed that no other topic 
 was discussed for the next half-hour. Gathered in 
 little groups, the boys listened eagerly to the 
 reports which those who had been eye-witnesses of 
 the exciting event, gave of the size and fierceness 
 of the animal ; the narrow escape they had had ot 
 being overtaken ; and the manner in which the dog 
 had been struck down and killed. It was nearly 
 supper-time before any one remembered that all 
 the bats, stumps, and bails, together with sundry 
 jackets and waistcoats, had been left on the green, 
 and ought to be instantly fetched in ; if, indeed, 
 they had not already become the prey of some 
 marauder. But the gate had been shut to and 
 locked, when the boys had made their hurried entry .• 
 and Sally, on being applied to, refused to open it 
 again at so late an hour, without Mrs. Young's 
 express permission. Being urgently entreated how 
 ever, she at length relaxed so far as to allow one of 
 
THE MISSING YOLUME. 83 
 
 the party to issue forth, for the purpose of bringing 
 in the whole of the missing articles. Harry Mertoui^ 
 was selected for this office ; notwithstanding the 
 pertinacious opposition of Edward Sharpe, who 
 wanted to be deputed instead. His urgency excited 
 considerable surprise, for as he had not been one of 
 the players, none of the property left on the green 
 could hare belonged to him. Harry himself set it 
 down as a new instance of Sharpe' s unceasing 
 attempts to supersede him in every thing he under- 
 took ; and he passed through the entrance, with his 
 aversion to the latter in no degree lessened by the 
 circumstance. Sally locked the gate behind him, 
 with the assurance that she should stay there until 
 he came back, which she earnestly begged might be 
 soon. He lan hastily across the road, and was 
 speedily at the spot where he had been chatting 
 with his friends, when the alarm of the mad dog 
 put them to flight. . 
 
 He cast a hasty look round him ; and was relieved 
 to see that the bats and other articles were still 
 lying where they had been left ; the long grass at 
 the end of the green having, probably, screened them 
 from observation. He proceeded at once to collect 
 them into a bundle. All the jackets, bats, and 
 stumps were soon got together: then the bails; 
 though these were not found without some little 
 
 G 2 
 
84 THE riEST or JUNE. 
 
 trouble. But the ball be could no where discover; 
 and the length of the grass and the approaching 
 twilight threatened to make his task very difficult. 
 At last he remembered that Seymour and Markland 
 had been amusing themselves with throwing it from 
 one to the other to catch, when the alarm was given. 
 He made the search therefore, in the direction in 
 which they had been standing, and to his great 
 delight succeeded in finding it about twenty or 
 thirty yards from the seat. He was on the point of 
 turning to leave the spot, when he saw, a few yards 
 off, something white in the grass, having been blown 
 there apparently by the wind. " The score, I have 
 no doubt," exclaimed he, as he picked it up ; " it is 
 lucky I found it, or we should not have been able 
 to finish the matcli on "Wednesday. It is not the 
 score though ! Ha, a letter ! whose, I wonder ? " 
 
 He broke oiF with a sudden exclamation ; for he 
 aecame aware at that instant, that he held in his 
 naud one of the mysterious letters, which Mark- 
 land had represented Sharpe to be in the habit of 
 receiving, and in which he susptcted unfair help was 
 given in his school-exercises. He looked carefully 
 at the address. It was written in a bold, manly 
 hand; the postmark was "Cambridge," and tho 
 date that of the previous day, so that it must have 
 been received that morning. The envelope having 
 
THE MIS3IKG YOLUME. 83 
 
 been torn in the opening, the enclosure was parth'' 
 visible ; and a portion of a Latin sentence, in "whicl* 
 the word Pompeii was distinctly legible, struck hi? 
 eye as he turned it over. 
 
 Harry paused in great doubt and excitement. 
 Here then was the evidence he had so long desired. 
 He had no doubt tliat the letter contained a cor- 
 rected copy of Sharpe's prize-poem, and was, there- 
 fore, proof positive of the dishonest assistance he 
 was in the habit of receiving in his school-work. 
 This would not only enable him to wrest the prize 
 from the rival whose grasp was, as it were, already 
 closing on it ; but would fully expose his deceit and 
 trickery. Yet, how was he to use the evidence ? 
 Should he be justified in opening and reading the 
 letter ? He could not for a moment think so. 
 Should he take it to Dr. Young? The Doctor 
 was not at home, and he would have no oppor- 
 tunity of seeing him until the next day. If in the 
 interim Sharpe were to ask him if he had found his 
 letter, what should he say in reply ? Should he 
 give it up, and require him to reproduce it the 
 next day ? or should he have a fair right to detain 
 it, and place it in some neutral person's custody 
 till then? It was a most embarrassing question. 
 He sat down to think over it more carefully. He 
 forgot altogether the place where he was, and the 
 
86 THE FIEST OF JUKE. 
 
 uircum stances under wliicli he had come out. So 
 abstracted was he, that he did not perceive that the 
 enclosure had become disengaged from the envelope, 
 and that the latter had fiillen on the ground : but 
 continued to sit vacantly eyeing the letter, which 
 he still held in his hand. 
 
 He was suddenly roused by a hand on his 
 shoulder, and a weU-known voice — the very voice 
 he was thinking of — which exclaimed in his car, 
 " Henry Mertouu, I will trouble you for my letter ! " 
 
 Our hero started into full consciousness in a 
 moment. He replaced the letter in the cover, but 
 did not at once comply with the demand. There 
 was an embarrassed silence on both sides. It was 
 hard to say which of the two boys felt the more 
 uncomfortable. 
 
 At last Sharpe again spoke. 
 
 " Give me my letter, Mertoun. Tou have no 
 right to keep it." 
 
 " I do not know that," answered Harry, sharply. 
 "I suspect there has been unfair dealing about 
 this prize ; and I have a right to see that I and 
 others are not cheated. The contents of this letter 
 ought to be shown to the Doctor ! " 
 
 Sharpe started and winced as he heard HaiTv'a 
 first exclamation: but at the last words, his face 
 resumed its habitual sneer. 
 
THE MISSING YOLUMS. 87 
 
 i( 
 
 Have you read my letter ?" he asked, coldly. 
 
 " No," replied Mertoun. " Do you dare to say 
 that I have ? " 
 
 " I could almost swear I saw you reading it, as 
 I came up," replied Sharpe. "And if you have 
 not, how can you tell that Dr. Young ought to 
 know the contents ?" 
 
 Harry made no reply. He felt that Sharpe had 
 once more baffled him. He would not be justified 
 in detaining the letter, unless he knew that it 
 contained proof of Edward's unfair dealing, and 
 this he had been obliged to acknowledge he did not. 
 There might be nothing in it to criminate him after 
 all ; in which case he would incur severe censure, 
 if he refused to give it up. As to restoring it 
 now, and requiring its reproduction when called for, 
 he felt that would be worse than useless ; for he 
 was convinced that the object of his suspicions was 
 quite capable of substituting another letter for it. 
 He became conscious that his supposed hold over 
 him had shpped from his grasp, though the affair 
 of the missing book still remained, and might serve 
 his purpose as well. This conclusion did not tend 
 to soften his angry and jealous feelings. 
 
 " Take your letter," said he, rising and throwing 
 it towards him. " The time will come when there 
 will be a reckoning for all this ! " 
 
88 THE riEST or june. 
 
 How bitterly Harry remembered these words', 
 not many days afterwards ! 
 
 He gathered up the cricket- things and returned 
 to the house, without waiting for his companion to 
 attend him; and disregarding the indignant remon- 
 strances of Sally at the inordinate time she had 
 been kept waiting — which had at last induced her 
 to accede to Sharpe's proposal, to go out and see 
 what had become of Mertoun — returned straight 
 to the school-room. Here he held a consultation 
 with his friends as to the propriety of stating the 
 mysterious disappearance of " the Last Days of 
 Pompeii" from the school-library, to the Doctor 
 the first thing after breakfast on the folio wfsg 
 morning. He carefully avoided giving any hint 
 that his suspicions rested on Sharpe ; or indeed, 
 that he entertained any suspicions at all, that any 
 one had acted improperly in the matter. It was 
 arranged that Charles, as librarian, should again go 
 to the head-master and report the absence of the 
 book. Harry felt sure that the latter would at 
 once institute a searching enquiry, and then Mark- 
 land and he, by a judicious hint or two, might 
 bring the whole truth to light. 
 
 But this scheme, too, was destined to be nipped 
 in the bud. On the following morning the missing 
 book was found, by Charles Warb^ek, in its usual 
 
THE MISSING TOLTJME. 8^ 
 
 place in the library. How, or by wbom, it bad 
 been replaced, no one knew ! Its reappearance 
 was as inerplicable as its previous abstraction. 
 "Warbeck was still willing to go to the Doctor, and 
 relate the whole story ; but was dissuaded by Mer- 
 toun and Markland, who saw that nothing positive 
 could be alleged that would connect Sharpe with 
 the affair ; and they were unwilling to meddle with 
 any part of the subject that engrossed their 
 thoughts, until they could adduce sufficient evi- 
 dence to establish their entire case. The other 
 boys talked, and speculated, and wondered : but 
 the wonder grew less and less as the days passed 
 on ; and, in the excitement of the approaching 
 cricket-match, the whole affair was soon almost 
 forgf )tten. 
 
CHAPTER VI. 
 
 THE MATCH BEQUir. 
 
 It was the Jay of the cricket-match. The suu ros<j 
 clear and bright as the little world of Charlton 
 school itself could have desired; and the fleecy 
 clouds which sailed slow^ly across the blue expanse, 
 promised coolness without threatening rain. It 
 was a lovely first of June ; and the bright faces of 
 the young cricketers, as they met in the play- 
 ground after an early breakfast, already pre- 
 pared to proceed to the scene of action, harmo- 
 nized well with the clear sky and the smiling 
 landscape. They were all dressed in full cricket 
 costume, with blue ribbons in their white straw 
 'lats ; and formed a group as goodly and pleasant 
 as the eye could rest upon : while the merry shouts 
 and frequent bursts of laughter, which welcomed 
 eyen the faintest attempt at a joke, bore witness to 
 their high spirits and anticipation of approaching 
 pleasure. Harry Mertoun in particular, who, aa 
 
THE MATCH BEGUN. 91 
 
 -captain of the eleven, wore a smart rosette in his 
 button-hole in addition to the ribbon in his hat, 
 was half beside himself with exuberant spirits. 
 
 Matters had gone better with him during the 
 last week. He had recovered his place over Sharpe 
 in the school ; and his last week's verses had ob- 
 tained a higher mark than those of his rival. More- 
 over, a vague rumour had reached Charlton that 
 there were two poems decidedly better than the 
 rest ; and that the one Mr. Loughten was inclined 
 to prefer, had a motto taken from Yirgil. This re- 
 port had come to the boys through George Mark- 
 land, one of whose brothers it appeared was a friend 
 of Mr. Loughten' s. jN'ow, Harry's motto was taken 
 from the Georgics of Yirgil, and no one knew from 
 what author that of Sharpe had been selected ; but 
 his face had been carefully watched when the report 
 ■was mentioned in his presence ; and as it had not 
 exhibited a shade of satisfaction, or indeed any ex- 
 pression at all, except a stealthy glance at Harry, 
 it was generally thought that he did not regard the 
 intelligence as favourable to him. At all events 
 the rumour had been enough to restore Harry's 
 confidence ; a thing never hard to accomplish in 
 the bright and cheerful days of boyhood. By Dr. 
 Young's desire Mr. Loughten was to address a 
 letter to him as head-boy (as well as one to tlio 
 
92 TUE rmsT or june. 
 
 Doctor liimself), announcing tbe successful motto : 
 for not one post was to be lost in sending to Mr. 
 Loughten the name of tbe successful competitor ; 
 and tbe head-master felt quite uncertain whether 
 he might not again be summoned any day to bid 
 sister's bedside. Eor the last day or two, therefore, 
 the arrival of each morning's post bad caused our 
 hero some trepidation ; but no sooner had that gone 
 by, than he at once shook off his anxiety ; which, 
 in truth, rarely embitters the mirth, or haunts the 
 pillow of the school-boy. At any rate, to-day lie 
 seemed to have cast it aside altogether, and to have 
 forgotten that such a thing had any existence. 
 
 " AVhat a glorious day for a match!" he said, 
 swinging and poising his bat with all a cricketer's 
 dexterity. " Splendid order the turf will be in ! 
 just the right thing for your bowling, Charles, 
 hey ? AYon't we thrash them, that's all ? Ileiglio ! 
 I wonder what the Duncanites are thinking of just 
 now!" 
 
 " Much what we are, I dare say," responded 
 "Warbeck, with his quiet smile : " speculating on 
 the thrashing they mean to give us, no doubt." 
 
 " Treason, treason, Charles," shouted half a 
 dozen voices, " to talk of the possibility of our 
 being thrashed!" 
 
 " Never mind the talking, so long as we don't 
 
THE MATCH BfiOUN. 93 
 
 have the reality,'* replied Charles ; " depend on it 
 that shan't happen, if I can help it. "We can but 
 do our best ; and we shall soon see how the day- 
 will go." 
 
 "Very soon," replied Seymour, "for here comes 
 Sally to open the gate at last ! Now then, Sally, 
 Where's the key ? It must be past the time, I'm 
 sure !" 
 
 " I have not come to open the gate, Master Sey- 
 mour," was the reply ; " it wants nearly a quarter 
 of an hour to the right time. Somebody said 
 iMaster Brook wanted me." 
 
 " Brook ? he is not here. I have not seen him 
 all the morning. Does any one know where the 
 Juggler is ?" said Seymour, looking round him. 
 
 "I am sorry to say I do," said West, who that 
 moment emerged from the house, " I have just left 
 him. You will find him in the dining-room, Sally. 
 I am sorry to say he has cut his left hand so 
 badly with a breakfast-knife, that he will not be 
 able to hold a bat to-day." 
 
 " What ! he has been playing the juggler again, 
 I suppose?" asked Seymour. 
 
 "Yes," said West, "foolish fellow! that he 
 should have been silly enough to try and exhibit 
 his knife-catching tricks on this day of all days in 
 the year. He must needs display his dexterity for 
 
94 TUB niisT or jui^e. 
 
 the edification of our umpire, wlio is just come in ; 
 and a pretty slash he has given himself ! " 
 
 " Poor Juggler," said Seymour ; " I always told 
 him he would some day catch the knife by the 
 blade instead of the handle ; and now it has come 
 true ! Is he much disappointed, "West?" 
 
 "Tes, a good deal; but I left him comforting 
 himself that he would still be able to score, as his 
 right hand was not hurt." 
 
 The little conclave gathered closer together to 
 debate what was to be done in this unforeseen emer- 
 gency. 
 
 " Another fellow must be got to play, of course," 
 said "West ; " and he must be chosen at once, or he 
 will not be ready." 
 
 " Tes, but whom are we to have ? " asked Styles. 
 
 " I don't know, I'm sure," remarked Seymour ; 
 " I only know whom I hope we shall not have !" 
 
 " You mean Sharpe, I suppose, Frederick T " said 
 Markland. 
 
 "Ay, to be sure," replied Seymour, "whom 
 else?" 
 
 " "We have no choice," interposed "Warbeck, 
 quietly ; " the Doctor himself put his name down 
 as the twelfth on the list ; and therefore it comes 
 by right to him." 
 
 " But you forget, Charles," rejoined Seymour^ 
 
THE MATCH BEGTUS'. 95 
 
 " that lie refused to have any thing to do with the 
 match ; and that no one knows even to this mo- 
 ment whether he meant to have acted as scorer." 
 
 "He spoke in a moment of anger," said War- 
 beck ; " and it would not be fair to hold him to his 
 words, even if we had any discretion in the matter, 
 whichj I think, we have not ; but Mertoun is the 
 proper person to settle the point, as he is captain. 
 
 Harry thus appealed to, replied, though not Yery 
 graciously, that of course Sharpe must be asked ; 
 but that very likely he would decline ; in which 
 case the Doctor must be applied to, to sanction the 
 selection of another player. 
 
 "Decline!" said Seymour, "trust me he won't 
 do that. If we had wanted him to play, I grant 
 you he would have refused ; but as it is, small 
 chance of his saying no ! " 
 
 " "Well, any how he must be asked at once," said 
 Harry. " I suppose it is my business to speak to 
 him ; but I would rather not go alone ; you will 
 accompany me, Charles, will you not ?" Warbeck 
 nodded assent. " And now, does any one know 
 where he is?" 
 
 " There," said Styles, pointing to a figure seated 
 half out of sight, among the roots of Morley's elm. 
 " I saw him go there nearly half an hour ago, the 
 moment he had done his breakfast." 
 
96 THE rmsT or jdjse. 
 
 " I would wager any money," said Seymour, a» 
 Mertomi and "Warbeck departed on their errand, 
 " that he would insist upon playing, even if we all 
 went down upon our knees to him to beg him not. 
 — Hallo ! at all events, the conference was not a 
 very long one," he continued, as the two friends, 
 after exchanging a few words with Sharpe, returned 
 to their companions ; while Sharoe nimscii rose 
 and went towards the house. 
 
 " Well, Harry, what does he say ? Does lie play 
 or not?" 
 
 " Tes," said Mertoun, drily ; " he has gone to 
 put on his cricket things." 
 
 Half an hour afterwards, the whole party had re- 
 assembled on Charlton-green. It was a gay and 
 animated scene. At one corner of the ground, a 
 hundred yards or so from the wickets, a marquee, 
 with gay streamers and flags, had been erected; 
 under which the two elevens were to dine : and 
 the cricket-ground itself was marked off with little 
 blue and red banderoles — the colours of the rival 
 elevens. Dr. Duncan's boys were already on the 
 ground, when our hero and his companions made 
 their appearance. They were, on the whole, a 
 stronger and taller set than their antagonists ; and 
 *:heir uniforms of white and red set off their figures 
 to advantage. Notwithstanding the earliness of 
 
THE IdATCn BEGrif. 97 
 
 the hour, a large concourse of visitors — neigLboura, 
 and friends of the different players — had already as- 
 sembled ; and old cricketers, as they eyed the two 
 elevens, and marked their high spirit, and the skill 
 with which they handled their various weapons of 
 warfare, predicted a severe struggle. 
 
 The toss was made and won by the Duncanites ; 
 who, somewhat to the surprise of their opponents, 
 preferred taking the first innings. Harry and his 
 party took up their places in the field, and the game 
 began. 
 
 It soon became evident to the spectators, that 
 while the play of both elevens was extremely good, 
 there was more strength and endurance on the 
 one side, and more lightness and activity on the 
 other. In their first innings. Dr. Duncan's pupils 
 made some great hits; especially their captain, 
 Fergusson, and one of the players called Townsend ; 
 who between them had run up the score to more 
 than thirty notches, before they were bowled out. 
 The other bats had been less successful ; and 
 Charles "Warbeck's steady bowling had lowered 
 most of the last wickets, without any runs at all 
 being obtained. Their entire score amounted to 
 sixty-two runs. On the other side, almost all the 
 players of Dr. Young's party added something to 
 ihe general ace- unt ; tlie only failure being Harry 
 
 H 
 
98 TlIE riEST OF JUlf£. 
 
 Mertoun, who had struck his own wicket in his 
 very first over. Their innings amounted to fifty- 
 seven runs, thus leaving their antagonists five in 
 advance of them. This result had, in some degree, 
 damped our young friends ; who were by no means 
 pleased at being in arrear of their antagonists. 
 Especially were they disappointed at Mertoun's 
 failure, he having been always regarded by them — 
 take him all in all — as their beet player : and not 
 a few remarks were exchanged between the boys on 
 the subject, as they paused to rest between the 
 innings, before resuming the game. 
 
 "Why, what ever can have come to Harry?" 
 said "West. "I never knew him hit his wicket 
 before in my life ! If he had only got a tolerable 
 innings, we must have been ahead of the Duncan- 
 jtes." 
 
 " I don't think so much of his getting no runs," 
 observed Markland ; " I have known the best play- 
 ers in England lose their wickets, without getting 
 a run : but what could possess him to bowl in that 
 way ? At least ten of their score were run up by 
 his wide balls ; and he did not take a single wicket. 
 If you had not taken his place, and bowled pretty 
 well, Ered, and if Charles had not done capitally, 
 we should have run a fair chance of being beaten 
 single innings !" 
 
THE MATCH BEGUN. 99 
 
 " He will do better in the n-iw-* innings," aaid 
 Warbeck. "I think something had occurred to 
 put him out of spirits ; and if he only plays ordi- 
 narily well, we shall win yet." 
 
 " Win ! to be sure we shall," shouted Seymour. 
 ""Why, if Harry only bowls and bats half as well 
 as he did yesterday, we are certain to win easily !" 
 
 " I don't know that, Fred," rejoined "Warbeck. 
 " I never saw two much better bats than Townsend 
 anjd Fergusson are ; and Holt too played very 
 well, though, luckily for us, he was run out. By 
 the bye, how capitally Sharpe played ! — he caught 
 two fellows in splendid style, and got thirteen runs, 
 did he not?" 
 
 " Tes, that did he," observed Seymour. " I 
 never thought to have liked him half so well. But 
 it is lucky for our chance of the game that Tommy 
 Brook cut his fingers this morning. I doubt whe- 
 ther the Juggler would have caught either of the 
 balls as Sharpe did, notwithstanding his skill in the 
 juggling line ; and certainly he would not have hit 
 Holt's bowling as well. "Well, every thing in 
 nature has its use, they say, if one can but find it 
 out, and this I suppose is Edward Sharpe's ! But 
 see, the Duncanites are getting ready to begin the 
 second innings. "We must lay out. "Where's 
 Harry?" 
 
 H 2 
 
100 TUE riEST or june. 
 
 "Here he is !" said Warbeck, who was glad to 
 see that his friend seemed to have recovered Lis 
 spirits again. '' They are going to begin the second 
 innings, Harry. "We want to know whether you 
 will bowl first, or whether Fred and I shall begin." 
 
 " Why, I think you two had better begin, and I 
 will stand point. I think I might make a catch or 
 two. As soon as a change of bowling is wanted, I 
 will take one of your places. Here come the Dun- 
 canites. Ha ! they are putting Townsend and 
 Pergusson in first. I see what they want, — they 
 think one of them will probably stick in throughout 
 the whole innings. Well, we will baffle them, if we 
 can. Now then, umpire, call the over, and let us 
 begin." 
 
 Mertoun had begun the match with less readi- 
 ness and animation than he could have supposed 
 possible on such an occasion. The fact is, he had 
 been greatly out of sorts ever since it had been 
 determined that Sharpe was to play. He had 
 chafed under the loss of time occasioned by prac- 
 tising for the match ; — the effect of which had been, 
 to enable his rival to give undivided attention to 
 his poem ; — and he had tacitly, though perhaps he 
 hardly realised the feeling, comforted himself by 
 reflecting, that if Sharpe had had an advantage over 
 liim in that respect, at least he would, in return, 
 
THE MATUll BEQUV. 101 
 
 have his advantage in playing in the match from 
 which the other was excluded. But here waa 
 Sharpe enjoying the same pleasure and privilege 
 ■with himself, without having paid the price for it 
 which he had been obliged to give. He felt, too, 
 that Sharpe had succeeded in making one of the 
 eleven, not through his help, but in spite of his efforts 
 to prevent it ; and that Sharpe was w^ell aware of 
 the fact, and viewed the matter in the light of a 
 triumph over him, — as, indeed, his manner, when 
 told of Brook's inability to play, had plainly enough 
 shown. This was not a pleasant beginning ; nor 
 did matters mend as the day went on. On the 
 contrary, his rival's success in the first innings of 
 the match greatly iucreased his annoyance ; for he 
 felt that it made his attempt to exclude Sharpe 
 from the eleven, appear still more spiteful and un- 
 just than it really was. Dr. Young had come upon 
 the ground just as Sharpe made the famous catch 
 which had cut short Townsend's career, and which 
 had elicited a burst of applause from all quarters of 
 the field. During Edward's own innings also, at 
 every successful hit he fancied that the Doctor's 
 eye was turned upon him, with a look of surprise 
 and doubt, which brought back forcibly to his re- 
 collection the interview when the list of players 
 was first handed in, and made his cheeks burn with 
 
102 THE FIEST OF JUNE. 
 
 Bhame aud vexation. Nor had his temper been 
 improved by his having heard some of the spec- 
 tators expressing their surprise, that Dr. Young's 
 eleven should have put some of their inferior 
 players in early in the innings, and kept back 
 one of their best to the very last, thus running 
 the risk of his having no opportunity to make 
 runs. Lastly, his own failure both in bowling and 
 batting — which had been almost entirely caused 
 by his impatience and want of temper — had put 
 the finishing stroke to his chagrin and annoyance. 
 He could see from the blank and surprised faces 
 of his school-fellows, how much they were dis- 
 appointed; and "Warbeck's good-natured attempts 
 to laugh off his miscarriage, irritated his pride 
 almost as much as Sharpe's ill-concealed satis- 
 faction. 
 
 His brother "Walter had alone given him any 
 comfort. The little fellow had nestled up close to 
 him, as he sat alone in a corner of the marquee, at 
 the close of the first innings, and had told him that 
 he thought he had good news for him. 
 
 "What may that be, Walter?" said Harry, 
 pleased with the child's affection, and glad to divert 
 his own uncomfortable thoughts. 
 
 " Why, brother, was not the motto of vour poem 
 taken from Virgil ?" 
 
IHE MATCH BEGUN. 103 
 
 " Yes, Walter ; from the Georgics. Why do 
 you ask ? " 
 
 " I don't know any thing about George's 
 motto," replied Walter ; " but if yours was from 
 Virgil, I think you have got the prize." 
 
 " Indeed ! What makes you think that ? " and 
 Mertoun's heart bounded as he spoke. 
 
 " I will tell you, brother. I was sitting just now 
 near the Doctor, on the scorer's seat, when a letter 
 was brought him from the house. He looked at 
 it, and I saw it contained a list, like the one you 
 wrote for Charles, and George, and Frederick, a 
 week or so ago, to send in to the Doctor. Just 
 then, he looked up and saw me, and he smiled, and 
 asked me if I could tell him who had a motto 
 from "Virgil. I said I was not sure, because you 
 see, Harry, I should not have liked to have said 
 you, if it had not been you. And then he smiled 
 again, and asked me where you were ; and I 
 said, I dared say you were in the tent, and should 
 I send you. But he said, no ; the second innings 
 was just going to begin, and it would be time^ 
 enough when the match was over : and so I 
 came away. But I think, Harry, you must have 
 got the prize, or he would not have looked so 
 pleased," added the little boy ; to whom it never 
 occurred, that the head-master might be as mucli 
 
10-J) THE riES3 or JU>E. 
 
 pleased at the success of one pupil, as that of 
 another. 
 
 Harry's heart beat high. Had he really got it, 
 after all ? He had never known how much he had 
 desired it till now ; when it seemed almost within 
 his grasp. Not that his success was by any means 
 certain. He was aware that Dr. Young knew that 
 his motto was taken from Yirgil ; for he had asked 
 the Doctor just before the poems went in, to lend 
 him an index to Virgil, in order to find out the 
 book and line of the passage he had selected. He 
 also knew, that no other boy had chosen his motto 
 from that author ; always excepting Sharpe, whoso 
 motto, as has been already observed, was known to 
 himself only. Harry reflected that Dr. Young did 
 not know the w^ords of his motto, and that it was 
 possible that Sharpe had also made his selection 
 from Virgil. Still, the chances were in his favour, 
 and this was enough to revive his spirits, and send 
 him out to the second innings with alacrity and 
 confidence. 
 
 He soon found that all his energies were needed. 
 Twenty-five notches were scored before either of 
 the two first players of the hostile eleven could be 
 disposed of; when "Warbeck, with a fine bail-ball, 
 succeeded in lowering Fergusson's wicket. One or 
 two others followed, with less success j until Holt 
 
THE MATCH BlLviUN. 105 
 
 made his appearance in the field, facing Townsend, 
 who still retained his bat : when the score began to 
 grow ominously long. In vain did Seymour deliver 
 his swiftest shooters ; in vain did Warbeck bowl ball 
 after ball straight as a line, and pitched to precisely 
 the right distance. The straight balls were blocked ; 
 the others hit far and near to all parts of the field. 
 The odds were growing heavy in favour of the 
 Duncanites; when our hero took Seymour's place 
 at the wicket ; and those of the spectators who had 
 seen his bowling in the forenoon anticipated little 
 advantage from the change. They were, however, 
 mistaken : the very first ball Ilarry delivered, sent 
 Holt's bails flying ; and not many overs afterwards, 
 a similar ball cut short the success ot the formidable 
 Townsend. The remaining players were disposed 
 of by Charles and himself, without any great addi- 
 tion to the number of runs ; and the hopes of Dr. 
 Young's party once more revived. The general 
 opinion of the ground, however, was unfavourable 
 to their success. Dr. Duncan's eleven had added 
 no less than eighty-two runs to their total ; sixty- 
 seven of which had been obtained before the begin- 
 ning of Mertoun's bowling. Eighty-two runs, with 
 the addition of the five, by which they had exceeded 
 ^eir opponents in the first innings, gave them a 
 lead of eighty-seven: a r*umber which it seemed 
 
10(J THE riBST OF JVITE. 
 
 unlikely that Dr. Young's pupils — judging by the 
 previous play — would obtain. Nevertheless, the 
 result vras quite uncertain; and when, at two 
 o'clock, both parties went to their dinner in the 
 marquee, it was universally agreed by the specta- 
 tors, that it was one of the best and most interest- 
 m^ raatches that had ever been witnessed. 
 
CHAPTER VIL 
 
 THE DOUBLE DECISION. 
 
 Dinner was over, and the crowd of spectators, 
 whicli had increased considerably since the morning, 
 looked on with eager interest to the final struggle 
 which was about to commence. Beassured by his 
 recent success, and warmed by the excitement of 
 the contest, Harry Mertoun was himself again: 
 skilfully directing every movement, and reassuring 
 by his own hearty confidence, the doubtful spirits 
 of his party. He first placed the two Sawyers at 
 the wickets, with injunctions to them to block every 
 ball which might be in the least degree dangerous, 
 and to try to raise the score slowly by single runs. 
 This Fabian policy proved successful. It was very 
 long before either of the brothers could be got out. 
 A single run here and there, aided by an occasional 
 bye or wide ball, was added to the account ; and 
 when, after three-quarters of an hour, Thomas 
 
10^ TUB riBST or JUNE. 
 
 Sa\r/er was bowled by Fergusson, all parties were 
 surprised to find that eigbteen notches had been 
 obtained. Stjdes succeeded, and then Seymour, 
 who made some slashing hits ; and when the latter 
 retired the total exceeded thirty. Warbeck, in the 
 momentary absence of Mertoun, who ought to have 
 gone in before him, came next, and a long interval 
 again followed, during which the score crept slowly 
 and surely up to more than fifty. The opinion of 
 the bystanders again began to change, and the 
 prospects of ultimate success, for Dr. Young's side, 
 to grow more hopeful. 
 
 At this juncture Mertoun' s arm was nudged, 
 and a letter put into his hand. " It came for you 
 in the middle of the day, Harry," said Walter, " at 
 the same time as Dr. Young's, but Sally did not 
 think of sending it out to you. I saw it when we 
 went in to dinner, and asked leave to bring it out 
 to you. I thought you would like to see it, for I 
 am sure it contains good news !'* 
 
 Harry took the letter and hesitated a few mo- 
 Aients as to whether he should open it at once, or 
 defer doing so till the close of the game. He 
 looked carefully at the postmark. This was, as he 
 had expected, Ilton, Mr. Loughten's place of resi- 
 dence ; and it had besides, the initials E. L. in one 
 corner of the envelope. It contained then, beyond 
 
THE DOUBLE DECISION. 109 
 
 all possibility of doubt, tbe news of the decision of 
 the prize ; upon which he had bestowed so many 
 anxious thoughts, and which every day that passed 
 had but increased his eagerness to obtain ! Should 
 he open it ? "What glorious work, he thought, it 
 would be to go in for his innings, with the know- 
 ledge that he had gained it ! He felt as if he could 
 then get any number of runs, or defeat any anta- 
 gonists ! Ah, but then if the news should be 
 unfavourable ; if Sharpe had after all succeeded in 
 wresting the palm from him. He could not endure 
 the notion ; he longed to put an end to his anxiety ; 
 but he could not for the life of him muster up 
 courage to break the seal of the letter. 
 
 He was roused from his reflections by a general 
 shout, followed by a repeated mention of his name. 
 He looked up. Eichard Sawyer had been run out, 
 and the boys were calling upon him to take his 
 place. 
 
 "Now, Harry," was the general cry, "it is your 
 turn. We must not see you out again under 
 twenty runs!" 
 
 " Make haste, Harry," said "West, running up to 
 him ; " Charles is playing capitally, and has got a 
 good sight of the ball ; as little time should be lost 
 as possible." 
 
 *'I cannot go in now," replied Mertoun; "I 
 
110 THE riEST OF JUNE. 
 
 shall be ready, perhaps, when the next wicket falls j 
 but just at this moment — I can't tell you why — but 
 I had rather that you took my place." 
 
 "West looked surprised ; but there was no time 
 for remonstrating ; and, accordingly, he moved to 
 take his station at the wicket. 
 
 Mertoun ha\dng disposed of this interruption, 
 again turned his thoughts to the letter which he 
 still held unopened in his hand. Could he trust 
 Walter's report as to what Dr. Young had said to 
 him before dinner? No doubt the Doctor had 
 received the same news which his own letter con- 
 tained: but the question was, had he ascertained 
 by any means what his motto was, and did what he 
 had said to "Walter, imply that that motto was the 
 successful one ? It seemed like it, certainly ; but 
 after all it was but a conjecture. 
 
 " "Well," exclaimed he at last, after another in- 
 terval of debate with himself, "at all events any 
 certainty will make me less nervous than this 
 anxiety and suspense, so here goes," and as he 
 spoke he broke the seal of the envelope, and 
 opened the letter. But he had scarcely read the 
 first few words when a second and still louder 
 shout burst from the spectators. Charles "Warbeck 
 had been bowled out ; and Mertoun's companions 
 were once more, and still more loudly calling upon 
 
THE DOUBLE DECISION. Ill 
 
 him to go m and save the game. They were in 
 fact getting very anxious about the result ; twenty- 
 nine runs still remained to be got, and Markland 
 and Mertoun were the only players upon whom 
 they could now rely; since neither Baker nor 
 "Webb were likely to stand against the fine bowling 
 of their adversaries ; and it could hardly be hoped 
 that Sharpe would be again so successful as he had 
 proved in the first innings. Harry, therefore, was 
 loudly called for ; but to the great annoyance and 
 perplexity of his friends he still refused to go in 
 before Markland ; promising, however, this time to 
 take the first vacancy that might occur. In order 
 to make sure of being able to do this, he at once 
 proceeded to read his letter. It was as follows : — 
 
 "Ilton, May 31, 184-. 
 
 " Mt dear tottkg Feiend, 
 
 " The good Doctor tells me that he cannot be 
 sure of being at Charlton when my letter to him 
 arrives there ; and he wishes me therefore to write 
 to you also as dux of the school, by the same post ; 
 as you are, perhaps, aware that the "Warden of 
 Westonbury requires the name of the successful 
 candidate to be forwarded to him immediately. If, 
 therefore, Dr. Young should not be at home when 
 this arrives, I shall be much obliged to you to send 
 me the names of the boys owning the two following 
 
J12 TRE FIEST or JUNE. 
 
 mottoes. The first will receive the prize. What 
 this is my friend, the Warden, has not hitherto 
 allowed me to declare; but Dr. Young will now 
 explain it to you. — The second will have a set of 
 handsomely bound books. 
 
 " First prize.— Virg., ^neid. YI. 266. 
 
 * Sit mihi fas audita loqui ; sit nuniine vestro 
 Pandere res altd terrd et caligine mersas ^' 
 
 " Second prize. — Virg., Georg. I. 493. 
 
 * Scilicet et tempus veniet, cum finibus istis 
 Agricola, incurvo terram molitus aratro, 
 Exesa inveniet scabrfi robigine pila, 
 Grandiaque effossis mirabitur ossa sepulcris ^.' 
 
 " Both these poems are highly creditable composi- 
 tions, and nearly equal in excellence. In respect 
 of imagination and taste the second is even the 
 better of the two: but the first is so decidedly 
 superior in correctness, in classical research, and 
 knowledge of the details of the subject of the poem, 
 as to leave no doubt that it ought to rank first. 
 
 "If either of these two should be yours — but 
 
 ^ " Aid me, ye gods, that so may be revealed 
 
 Things 'neath the earth, by darkness long concealed ! '* 
 
 * " In the far future it shall chance that there, 
 The ploughman, as he drives the twisted share, 
 On rusted spears shall light, and with amaze 
 Survey the giant bones of ancient days ! " 
 
THE dotj:dLe decision. llii 
 
 more particularly the first of the two, — let me offer 
 
 you my sincere congratulations on your well-merited 
 
 success. 
 
 «* I am, 
 
 " Very sincerely yours, 
 
 "Eenest Loughten." 
 
 The paper fell from Mertoun's hands. Beaten, 
 beaten after all ! and, doubtless, by Sharpe .; for he 
 knew the mottoes of all the other boys — and, be- 
 sides, no one else could, he was fully assured, have 
 defeated him. — Beaten, too, from want of knowledge 
 of detail ; the very thing he had been unable to 
 procure. " Ha!" exclaimed he, as the incident of 
 Bulwer*s " Last Days of Pompeii " again flashed 
 upon him, " that explains it, then. Sharpe did get 
 possession of that book ! that is where he got his 
 knowledge of detail from ; and that is why the book 
 was not returned till after the poems had been sent 
 m. Superior correctness, too ! No doubt ! when 
 his poem had been looked over and corrected by 
 his brother ! That explains the letter I found on 
 the green ! There cannot be doubt of it ! But 
 I vow all shall come out now. I will go to the 
 Doctor the first thing as soon as this tiresome 
 match is over ! I will not be cheated in this 
 shameful way by that treacherous sneak t and ao 
 he need not expect it !" 
 
 t 
 
114 THE FIEST OF JUKE. 
 
 His angry soliloquy was interrupted by a tliird 
 sliout from the cricket-field, louder than any that 
 had preceded it, and which announced the loss of 
 another wicket. West, after scoring a few notches, 
 had, in the indiscretion of his zeal, ventured out of 
 his ground, and had been skilfully stumped out. 
 Six wickets were now down for sixty-two runs, 
 and there were still twenty-five to be got. The 
 odds were decidedly adverse to the hopes of Dr. 
 Young's boys. Unless Harry himself made a good 
 innings, there was no one who could be safely relied 
 upon to get runs ; and many were the exhortations 
 to play steadily which he received, and to get 
 a full sight of the ball, before he ventured to 
 hit at Holt's dangerous bowling. But our hero 
 was at once greatly irritated, and thoroughly dis- 
 heartened; and when he took his post at the 
 wicket, he was in no mood to take advice or to 
 practise caution. He hit wildly at the first ball 
 bowled to him ; and Holt, perceiving his advantage, 
 delivered the next even more slowly than was his 
 wont, but pitched with skilful nicety to exactly the 
 ilangerous distance. Harry fell into the snare. 
 Ke stepped forward, and struck with all his force 
 at the ball, which flew up, and was the next minute 
 deposited in the hands of one of the adverse party. 
 A tremendous shout burst forth, for this mishap 
 
THE DOUBLE DECISION. 115 
 
 was regarded by all present as the crowning dis- 
 comfiture of Harrj's side. But three players now 
 remained to go in, and they were the very dregs 
 of the eleven. Mertoun himself, with an angry 
 exclamation, shouldered his bat ; and, avoiding the 
 chilling silence, or the good-natured condolence 
 with which he was sensible he should be greeted 
 by hia friends, walked straight to the marquee, to 
 hide himself within its recesses. On his way he 
 passed Edward Sharpe, whose face, he fancied, wore 
 an expression of affected pity and suppressed tri- 
 umph, which added fuel to the hatred with which 
 he was fast learning to regard him. He entered 
 the marquee, and stationing himself as far out of 
 sight as possible, behind a pile of benches and 
 clothes, abandoned himself to his bitter and indig- 
 nant feelings. 
 
 Meanwhile a consultation took place between 
 Seymour and "Warbeck ; who, by Harry's voluntary 
 abdication, were compelled to assume the duties of 
 the captain. 
 
 ""We have lost the match, Charles," said Sey- 
 mour, " that is certain ! What could induce Harry 
 to play in that extraordinary way ? " 
 
 "Never mind him just now," replied "Warbeck 
 " "We must settle what to do." 
 
 ""Well!" said Seymour; "there is nothing, I 
 
116 TUE riEST OF *uwfi. 
 
 tbink, to be done, except to take our defeat as 
 coolly as we can. There are but three of oar 
 fellows to go in to get twenty-five notches ; and not 
 cue of them can be reckoned on to get three ! " 
 
 "I am not sure of that, Fred," observed War- 
 6eck ; " recollect Sharpe got thirteen runs in his 
 first innings. If he were to do that again, only 
 twelve runs would remain ; and Markland and the 
 others might get them." 
 
 " Yes ! but what chance do you think there is of 
 liis doing that ? Not but what I think it quite 
 worth while to send him in at once, before Baker 
 or Webb : for I am sure neither of them will get a 
 score, and he perhaps may." 
 
 This resolution was at once acted on, and Sharpe 
 sent in to supply Mertoun's vacancy. The game, 
 which had been for a few minutes interrupted, was 
 resumed. But the interest of the bystanders wa^ 
 a good deal diminished, and many were preparing 
 to quit the ground, considering the defeat of Mer- 
 toun's side as certain. The appearance of Sharpe, 
 who had been successful in the first innings, in 
 some degree revived their attention ; and it was soon 
 fully restored. After carefully blocking several 
 balls, he mado a hit which obtained two runs ; soon 
 after, two others of one each ; and then another, 
 for which ho again marked two. Markland al»<> 
 
THE nOUBLE DECISION. 117 
 
 played steadily, and made two or three nolclies. 
 Sharpe again made a bit for one, and the total to 
 be obtained was reduced to fourteen. Once more 
 the issue seemed doubtful. Two or three overs 
 followed, without advantage on either side. Then 
 Markland made another stroke for two ; but was 
 almost immediately afterwards run out. Harry 
 Baker succeeded to Markland' s wicket ; and, agree- 
 ably to "Warbeck's instructions, made no attempt 
 to strike ; but simply blocked the balls bowled to 
 him. Several overs passed. Sharpe again seized 
 the opportunity offered him by two of Fergusson's 
 balls, which were not so straight as usual. He 
 made two runs of the first, and struck the second 
 right across the road beyond the green, almost up 
 to the pond. It was the finest hit of the whole 
 day, and no less than six were registered for it. 
 There were now but four runs to be obtained ; that 
 is, four to tie, and five to win. Again Sharpe made 
 a single run: the odds were largely in favour of 
 Dr. Young's boys; when suddenly Harry Baker,. 
 in an unlucky moment, was seized with an irresis- 
 tible desire to distinguish himself, and, forsaking 
 the cautious policy he had hitherto pursued, struck 
 at a ball which he ought to have blocked, and the 
 next moment his bails flew into the air. 
 
 Four runs to win ! and the last player in ! The 
 
THE riEST or JUI^E. 
 
 interest became overpowering as Tommy Webb 
 appeared on tbe ground. Every movement of the 
 game now elicited the loudest shouts of admira- 
 tion. Every ball bowled, struck, blocked, or 
 thrown up was vehemently applauded. Grown 
 men grew as eager as boys ; and the boys them- 
 selves were half frantic with excitement. Tlie 
 noise and commotion became so great, that even 
 Mertoun, as he sate silent and intensely mortified 
 in the corner of the marquee, could not resist the 
 attraction of stepping out to see what was passmg : 
 and there he stood, near the door of the tent, 
 watching the successful play of his rival. 
 
 " "Well bowled, Fergusson ! " cried the Dun- 
 canites; "Capitally blocked. Tommy!" responded 
 Seymour and his friends. " Now it is Holt's turn," 
 exclaimed the one party, as the over was called ; 
 " Now for it, Sharpe," was the cry of the other. 
 A pause — then a ball was delivered which was 
 struck forward by Sharpe, and for which two was 
 scored amidst a thunder of acclamations. " Glo- 
 rious hit!" shouted Mr. Powell, who had hitherto 
 preserved his magisterial decorum ; but whose en- 
 thusiasm burst all bounds as he saw this important 
 success at so critical a period of the game. Again 
 a dead silence, as ball after ball was delivered with- 
 jout result. Another over was called. It was Eer- 
 
TUE DOUBLE DECISION. 119 
 
 gu330ii's turn to bowl. Tommy "Webb stood hia 
 ground yaliantly ; and blocked tbe three first balls 
 of the over. Fergusson grew nervous, his hand 
 shook. " "Wide ball !" suddenly cried the umpire. 
 " "Wide ball ! wide baU ! " was echoed by a hundred 
 voices. "A tie! a tie!" roared Seymour; "we are 
 even with them! One more run and the day is 
 our own ! " The interest rose to its highest pitch. 
 Even Dr. Young bent forward with eager interest 
 to watch the result, as Holt once more took the 
 ball in hand. Unlike his brother bowler, he was 
 as calm and composed as though the issue of the 
 match had in no way depended upon his coolness 
 and skill. Nor was Sharpe behind him in steadiness 
 of nerve. It was curious to watch the two boys, 
 and observe how perfectly collected they seemed in 
 the midst of the wild storm of excitement round 
 them. Holt delivered his first ball. It pitched 
 straight as a die, and passed over the top of the 
 bails, scarce half an inch above them : — a second in 
 precisely the same place. Sharpe felt that his 
 wicket must fall if Holt continued to bowl thus. 
 He had not skill enough to deal successfully with 
 such balls as these. He suddenly changed his 
 tactics, and running forward caught the third ball 
 on his bat before it touched the ground. It flew 
 far away over the heads of the players, who had 
 
120 TUE TIE ST or J USE. 
 
 closed in to prevent if possible a run being ob- 
 tained: and a deafening storm of cheering an- 
 nounced the victory of Dr. Young's eleven ! 
 
 It was some time before any thing like order or 
 quiet was re-established. The delight of the victo- 
 rious party was great in proportion to their recent 
 depression : and shout after shout, each more bois- 
 terous than the last, proclaimed their exultation. 
 Sharpe was overwhelmed with praises and con- 
 gratulations. He had been unpopular enough 
 yesterday, and might be unpopular again to-morrow; 
 but to-day he was the favourite of the people, im- 
 moveably fixed in their affections. There is no hero- 
 worship like that which subsists among school-boys. 
 Every grudge against him was completely wiped 
 from the tablet of their recollection : every blot, real 
 or imagined, in his character, lost in the lustre of 
 his recent achievement. " Well done, Edward ! " 
 '* Splendidly played ! " " You won us the game ! " 
 was repeated on all sides. " Never saw a finer hit 
 than that sixer," said a veteran cricketer; "lucky 
 you put him in when you did, gentlemen," he pur- 
 sued, turning to "Warbeck and Seymour, " or you 
 would never have won that match." Even the 
 leaders of the vanquished eleven generously joined 
 in the applause, and said they were not ashamed to 
 be beaten by such admirable play ! Einally, enthu- 
 
Sharpe is carried in triumph. 
 
 p. 121 
 
THE DOUBLE DECISION. 121 
 
 Biasm rose so high, that forming a rude throne com- 
 posed of a stool supported by four stumps, his 
 companions bore him in triumph round the green, 
 and to the door of Dr. Young's house. 
 
 Where was Harry all this time ? At the door of 
 the marquee, where we left him, watching the ho- 
 nours bestowed upon his rival, and as little thought 
 of as though he had never existed ! Yery bitter were 
 his reflections. Here was Sliarpe triumphant on 
 every point at issue between them, and himself 
 covered with disgrace and humiliation. True, he 
 attributed his defeat in the matter of the poem to 
 his antagonist's underhand dealing, which he was 
 fully resolved, if possible, to expose ; and his failure 
 in the cricket-match to chance : but he could not 
 help acknowledging to himself — and he ground his 
 teeth with vexation as he felt obliged to do so — 
 that he had contributed largely himnelf towards 
 bringing about both disasters. If he had not 
 watched all Edward's movements with such restless 
 jealousy, he would not have conceived the suspicion 
 that the latter had black-balled him by unfair means 
 — if he had not entertained that suspicion, he would 
 not have omitted his name in the list of players — if 
 heiiad not perpetrated that act of unfairness, Sharpe 
 would not have had the advantage of so much addi- 
 tional leisure for composing his poem — without thai 
 
122 TUE riKST OF JUNE. 
 
 additional leisure, his rival would hardly have gained 
 the victory ; for, as it was, the contest had been a 
 very close one— and finally, if Sharpe had neither 
 succeeded in wresting the prize from him, nor in 
 frustrating his attempts to exclude him from the 
 eleven, he would not have felt the chagrin and 
 mortification, which had been the cause of his 
 failure in the cricket-field. But such is always the 
 case in every human competition, whether the 
 competitors be boys or men. Our own defeat 
 generally, our own humiliation always, is in the 
 main our own work. 
 
 But Harry, if he could not help admitting that 
 to some extent he had himself brought about the 
 vexations under which he was suffering, was not 
 disposed to dwell on that view of the case, or de- 
 duce from it the just and reasonable conclusion — 
 that he ought to bear patiently the burden which 
 he had laid on his own shoulders. His mind turned 
 away as much as possible from that line of thought, 
 to fasten with ever-increasing bitterness on Sharpe's 
 share in the transactions of the last fortnight — his 
 malice — his cunning — his treachery — his cold, cal- 
 culating hostility ! That he should not only be 
 eclipsed in the favour of his school-fellows and be 
 ousted from the first place in Dr. Toung's estima- 
 tion, but should hav^ to yield the post of honour 
 
THE DOUBLE DECISION. 123 
 
 to such a fellow as that ! The very shouts of 
 " Bravo, Sharpe ! " " Edward for ever ! " with which 
 the cricket-ground rang again, galled and irritated 
 him beyond endurance. He felt as if he would 
 willingly pay any price and undergo any penalty, if 
 he could thereby succeed in defeating, mortifying, 
 and trampling into the dust, the object at once of 
 his envy and detestation ! Poor Harry ! He little 
 dreamed how terrible an advantage he was allowing 
 the Tempter to gain over him by thus nursing his 
 proud and jealous feelings. It was even in such a 
 frame of mind that Saul listened to the Jewish 
 women as they sang that " Saul had slain his thou- 
 sands, but David his tens of thousands :" and, as he 
 inwardly burned with wounded pride and envy, the 
 demon entered more deeply into his soul, luring 
 him on to his final shame and ruin ! Who shall 
 dare, be he boy or man, to imitate the sin of Saul, 
 and yet hope to be exempted from his punish- 
 ment ? 
 
 Harry watched the cricket-party as it slowly 
 broke up ; and when the last of his companions had 
 disappeared into Dr. Young's premises, he too 
 gathered together the various articles belonging to 
 him, and silently followed them. 
 
CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 THE MOUSETRAP. 
 
 HAHiiY sauntered for half an hour or so in tbe lace 
 adjoining Dr. Young's house, after quitting the 
 cricket-field, before he could bring himself into a 
 suflSciently equable frame of mind to meet his 
 school-fellows. When he at length re-entered the 
 school-gate, he was met by a party of two or three 
 of the first-class boys ; who, towel in hand, were 
 sallying forth for a bathe in the neighbouring river. 
 Mertoun was somewhat comforted by the hearty 
 reception he met with from them, which showed 
 at least that they were not, as he had supposed, 
 angry or out of temper with him. 
 
 " Come along with us, Harry," said Markland, 
 seizing his arm. " "We have got leave to go to 
 Cumbrook meadows for a bathe. It will be just 
 the thing after the heat and exertion of the match, 
 and there is still full an hour before supper." 
 
 "Ah, do, Harry," said Seymour. "Markland 
 
THE MOirSETEA?. 125 
 
 and I are going to have the diving match we talked 
 of last week, and the other fellows are going to 
 bathe near us, and be umpires. You had better 
 come and join our match. We will trj either the 
 mousetrap or the mill-pooi. It is not an easy 
 matter to get a stone up from the bottom of either 
 of them." 
 
 Mertoun paused, half persuaded. 
 
 "Where is Charles?" said he. "I rather 
 wanted to see him." 
 
 " Charles, oh ! he can't come. He had promised 
 to write a letter to his lame brother, giving him a 
 long account of the match ; and he says he should 
 not have time to write this evening, if he went. 
 But he will be sure to be busy till supper-time, so 
 you had better come with us." 
 
 " Well, I declare, I think I will, Fred. Just 
 wait a moment, while I run into the house and 
 fetch a towel." 
 
 Our hero soon returned, but was not pleased to 
 find that in the interim Sharpe had joined the 
 party. The latter was a good swimmer, but cer- 
 tainly not equal, in that respect, to Harry ; who 
 excelled in all athletic exercises. Our hero, how- 
 ever, fancied that his rival meant to try and outdo 
 him in this, as ho liad every thing in which he had 
 hitherto held pre-eminence, and that that had been 
 
126 THE riEST OF JUNE. 
 
 his sole object in joining the bathing party. 
 Toothing could be more unfounded ; for Sharpe 
 had been one of the original proposers of the 
 scheme, and had merely been detained for a mo- 
 \ient behind the others, when Mertoun first met 
 ^hem. But Harry's mind was in that morbid state, 
 in which every trifling incident assumes an unreal 
 significance. He walked in ungracious silence; 
 and his companions, — who surmised that the inci- 
 dents of the cricket-match, which would naturally 
 have formed the staple of their conversation, would 
 not be welcome to him — hardly knew what to say, 
 and were almost as silent as himself. 
 
 At last Seymour spoke. 
 
 " "What was the name of the school to which you 
 said you were going, after the holidays, Harry ?" 
 
 " Westonbury," replied our hero ; and as he 
 spoke, a dim recollection came into his mind, that 
 he had lately heard some mention of "Westonbury. 
 So, indeed, he had ; and it was a proof of how fully 
 his mind had been engrossed by the fact of Sharpe' ? 
 triumph over him, that he had not noticed the 
 mention of the "Warden of "Westonbury in Mr. 
 Loughten's letter. 
 
 " "Westonbury," he repeated. " My father tried 
 to enter me there last Christmas ; though I did not, 
 at the time, know it. He did not tell me, because 
 
THE MOUSETEAP. 127 
 
 it was doubtful whether there would be a vacancy. 
 It is only about three weeks ago, that he heard 
 there would be one for me." 
 
 " "Westonbury ! " suddenly exclaimed Sharpe. 
 " Eeally, what a singular coincidence ! Are you to 
 be on the foundation, Mertoun ?" 
 
 " No," replied the other, coldly. " My father 
 could not get me a nomination for the foundation : 
 it is a very difficult thing to obtain." 
 
 " But what is the coincidence, Edward ? " observed 
 "West. " You are not going there yourself, I sup- 
 pose ? Tou told us the other day that you should 
 not leave Dr. Young's for two years, probably." 
 
 "Ah, so I did," replied Sharpe. "But some- 
 thing has lately occurred, which will probably 
 change my mother's plans." 
 
 Harry listened with increasing irritation. "Was 
 Sharpe really going to follow him to "Westonbury, 
 and solely, as it seemed, with a view to his annoy- 
 ance ? The only satisfaction he had had for some 
 weeks past was, in reflecting that however Sharpe 
 might annoy him now, in a few weeks he would be 
 clear of him for ever. Did he mean to pursue him 
 all his life with his malignant and vexatious rivalry ? 
 "Was he never to be rid of him ? He felt as if he 
 must beg his father — desirous as he had always 
 been of going to "Westonbury— to send him some- 
 
128 liiE Tliiii'i or JUKE. 
 
 where else, if it should really turn out that Edward 
 meant to go there. He listened anxiously to hear 
 what would be said next. 
 
 "Why, Sharpe," observed Seymour, who evi- 
 dently entertained, in some degree, the same sus- 
 picion as Mertoun, "your mother or you must 
 have changed your minds very suddenly. It was 
 only the day before yesterday that you were talk- 
 ing on the subject, — it was under the elm, just 
 before supper, — you said your brother had settled 
 with your mother, that you should stay here two 
 years more, and then go to a private tutor. Why, 
 Harry, it must be in compliment to you, I think, 
 that Edward has altered his mind ! He must be 
 so fond of your society, that he can't bear to part 
 with it!" 
 
 It was a thoughtless speech ; and Seymour re- 
 pented what he had said, when he saw Mertoun's 
 colour rise, and a faint flush tinge even Sharpe's 
 sallow cheek. Neither spoke ; and the conversa- 
 tion came to a sudden and very unpleasant pause. 
 
 They proceeded in silence for another quarter of 
 a mile, until they entered Cumbrook meadow, — a 
 beautiful stretch of green turf, dotted here and 
 there with stately elms and plane-trees, some of 
 which dipped their boughs into the clear, sparkling 
 river, which wound its way among them. Towards 
 
THE MotrSETSAP. 129 
 
 the further end of the meadow was a small thicket of 
 elder and osier-bushes, which fringed the edge of 
 the stream, and afforded a convenient shelter for 
 the swimmers. It was the boys' favourite bathing- 
 place. The turf, in most places, sloped easily down 
 to the water, which was no where above five feet 
 deep, except in one particular spot, where the 
 bank descended precipitously into the stream, in 
 that part of very considerable depth — twelve or 
 thirteen feet at the least. It was situated upon 
 tin abrupt turn of the river ; and from the peculiar 
 shape of the banks, which arched inwards over it, 
 went among the boys by the name of the " mouse- 
 trap." None but the first-class boys were ever 
 allowed to bathe in this place ; and they were 
 strictly prohibited from doing so unless three, or 
 two at least, were in company. A little further 
 Gn — two hundred yards or so — was another favour- 
 ite haunt, but less frequented by the boys, because 
 it was within sight of, almost close, indeed, to a 
 water-mill. The miller, who supplied Dr. Young's 
 school with flour, was on very friendly terms with 
 the boys : but the irreverent Seymour, who used to 
 complain that the flour was inferior in quality, had 
 thought fit to fasten upon him the soubriquet of 
 " Hob, the grinder," which, he was wont to say, 
 aptly expressed at once his occupation and character. 
 
13U THE riEST OF JUNE. 
 
 As tliey entered the copse, Markland made 
 another effort to relieve the general embarrassment 
 of the party. 
 
 " What did the Doctor want you for, Edward ? 
 He sent for you, did he not, just after the match ?'* 
 
 " Yes," said Sharpe, " he had something to tell 
 me." 
 
 " Tou don't say so, Edward," exclaimed Seymour. 
 " What a singular coincidence, that he should send 
 for you, and yet have something to tell you ! Pray, 
 if it is not asking too much, what might the some- 
 thing be?" 
 
 " It was something which concerned only me," 
 returned Sharpe, still more shortly than before, but 
 directing a keen look at Mertoun, which the other 
 was at no loss to understand. 
 
 "Pleasant and polite, as usual!" observed Sey- 
 mour, nettled at Sharpens ungraciousness. "An 
 agreeable fellow you are to talk to ! Is he not, 
 Harry?" he added, turning to our hero, who was 
 walking silently by his side. 
 
 " He is fond of mysteries, I think," replied Mer- 
 toun, with a meaning emphasis. Sharpe bit his lip. 
 
 " Should you like to have the mystery explained, 
 Mertoun?" he asked sarcastically. "Perhaps I 
 might consent to tell yoz*." 
 
 " By all means then say yes, Harry," cried Sey- 
 
THE MOUSETEAP. 131 
 
 mour ; " and then we shall arrive at a solution of 
 the riddle." 
 
 " I am sure I shall do nothing of the sort," 
 answered Mertoun, testily ; " it is of no kind of 
 importance to me what he may mean." 
 
 " You know better than that," retorted Edward ; 
 " but you are very wise to pretend to know nothing 
 about it. Yery clever of you too, to affect ignorance 
 about "Westonbury School, was it not ? Tour letter 
 did not tell you any thing about it, did it ?" 
 
 Mertoun flushed crimson. He turned angrily 
 upon Sharpe. " Pretend to know nothing ! Affect 
 ignorance ! What do you mean ? Do you dare 
 accuse me of lying and shuffling ? You, the mean- 
 est sneak that ever came into a school !" 
 
 "All very fine," replied Sharpe; "but I care 
 nothing for your names. I ask you, did you not 
 get a letter from Mr. Loughten this afternoon — 
 1 Jmow you did though, for the Doctor told me so, 
 and he at first thought that you had got the prize 
 — and did not that letter tell you, that I had got 
 the prize, and that it was a nomination on the 
 ibundation of "Westonbury School ? " 
 
 " No," exclaimed Mertoun, hotly ; " it did not. 
 I half think, now you mention it, that the word Wes- 
 tonbury did occur in it, but I am certain there was 
 nothing about a nomination ; and I can hardly believe 
 
 K 2 
 
132 THE riEST of juxe. 
 
 that you are serious. There, take the letter and 
 read it yourself," he pursued, taking the letter from 
 his pocket and flinging it towards his opponent. 
 
 " Much obliged to you," replied Sharpe, with a 
 sneer; "but I do not want to read other people's 
 letters. Mean, and sneaking, and all that, as you 
 say I am, I am not so sneaking as to do that !" 
 
 There was a murmur of indignation from the 
 other boys. " Do you mean to say that Harry wants 
 to read other people's letters ?" said Seymour. 
 
 " If you have got the prize, and I am heartily 
 sorry if it is so," cried Markland, " it is very un- 
 generous of you to bring it up in that way " — wliile 
 West and Styles, turning to Harry, urged him not 
 to mind what Sharpe said, as no one would regard 
 .t as being of any consequence. Eut Mertoun had 
 hardly heard the ofiensive words. He was over- 
 whelmed by the startling news that he had been 
 v.ithin an ace of obtaining a nomination at Weston- 
 bury; the very thing which ho knew his father 
 had long tried to obtain for him : and had, as he 
 entertained not the slightest doubt, been unfairly 
 deprived of it. He had taken it for granted, that the 
 prize would be a silver medal, or a watch, or some- 
 thing of the kind ; and he had hitherto cared for 
 nothing, except the loss of victory. But this was a 
 very different thing. How sadly liia father and 
 
THE MOUSETRAP. 133 
 
 mother Avoiild be disappointed. How should he tell 
 them of it ? He knew that it would tax his father's 
 means to the utmost, to send him to "Westonbury. 
 Independently of his own disappointment, what a 
 serious loss this was for them. His blood boiled 
 in his veins as he thought of it. 
 
 " I will tell you what," he burst out at last ; " I 
 believe most fully, that this prize has been ob- 
 tained by unfair dealing ; and to-morrow morning 
 we will see, before the whole school, whether cheat- 
 ing will be allowed to prosper. Till then, Sharpe, 
 I think we had better say as little to each other as 
 need be ! " and turning angrily on his heel, Harry 
 sat down on the bank, and began taking off his 
 clothes. But Sharpe, who was equally incensed, 
 though liis colder nature did not display itself in 
 the same manner, could not forbear pursuing his 
 advantage further. 
 
 " Very well judged of you, to say so," he said ; 
 " so convenient to put a stop to a conversation just- 
 when one has said all one wants, and is afraid of 
 hearing the truth in return ! But don't be afraid, 
 Mertoun, I will not say any thing more about the 
 letter of mine you opened, if you don't like it ! I 
 say, is it not a pity you tried to keep me out of the 
 eleven, and so gave me all that time to write m^ 
 poem in? You might have got it yowself, you 
 
134 THE riKST OF JUNE. 
 
 know, if you Lad let me alone ! And how much 
 better you played than me, did you not, when it 
 came to the trial ! " 
 
 The indignation of the other boys was now fully 
 firoused. "Shame! shame!" they all four cried 
 at the same moment. IMertoun started again 
 tj his feet, and began hastily resuming hia 
 clothes. 
 
 " I won't stay a moment more in your company, 
 you cowardly sneak," he cried; "and I warn you 
 to hold your tongue, and keep out of my way, if 
 you don't want me to thrash you as you deserve. 
 Come, Pred, and all of you, let us go to the other 
 bathing-place, and leave him to himself;" and as 
 he spoke, he resumed his clothes, and began moving 
 off in the direction of the mill. The boys hesitated, 
 and drew Mertoun aside. 
 
 " I am as much provoked with him as you can be, 
 Harry," said Seymour, " and have not the least 
 desire for his company ; but do you think it is safe 
 to leave him ? The mousetrap is very deep, and 
 he is no such great swimmer." 
 
 "Bother him," exclaimed Harry, impatiently; 
 " let him keep out of it then ! He need not ven- 
 ture into it, if he does not like it, I suppose. He 
 need not bathe at all, if he does not like it. No- 
 body obliges him." 
 
THE MOTJSETBAP. 135 
 
 "I don't know, Harry," observed "West; ''the 
 Doctor might blame us if we left bim. It is 
 against his rules for any one to bathe alouo 
 there." 
 
 "That is Sharpe's affair; not ours," cried Harry. 
 
 The party began to move off, when Sharpe, who 
 had hitherto remained silent, hoping that Mertoun 
 would not succeed in persuading the others to 
 accompany him, called after them. " George, 
 Frederick, surely you won't leave me to bathe here 
 alone. I have not done any thing to offend you, 
 any how." 
 
 The boys again paused. 
 
 " I really think," whispered Markland, " we had 
 better stop. "We need not speak to him, you 
 know, or take any notice of him ; but indeed I do 
 not feel comfortable about leaving him." 
 
 At any other time Mertoun would at once have 
 acquiesced ; but the storm of angry feeling which 
 had been roused within him overpowered every 
 other consideration. 
 
 " You all seem uncommonly fond of his com- 
 pany," said he. " Stay with him, if you like it, by 
 all means. I have nothing to say against it ; but 
 I won't, that is positive. Tou must choose be- 
 tween him and me." 
 
 Thus urged, the party once more moved for- 
 
136 THE riE3T OF JUNE. 
 
 ward; but Markland still continued to remon 
 strato. 
 
 " Had we not better, at all events, bathe aomo 
 where in sight of him ? He will not be one of oui 
 partj, you understand ; but if we cross the rising 
 ground between this and the mill-pool, we should 
 not be able to see or hear him, if he should be 
 seized with cramp, or any thing." 
 
 '• Eeally, George," said Mertoun, whose tempei 
 iras still more irritated by this persistance in what 
 he considered his enemy's cause, and who was 
 resolved that Sharpe should not get his way, come 
 what might of it, " you have conceived a wonderful 
 regard for him all of a sudden. There is not a 
 single place between this and the mill-pool which 
 IS nearly deep enough for a dive; and," he con- 
 tinued in a louder tone, turning round to the place 
 where Sharpe was still standing, a few yards off, 
 *^ you know very little of your friend there, if you 
 think he has pluck enough to venture into the 
 mousetrap by himself, as any of us would. Take 
 my word for it, he will keep his precious self out 
 of danger : I will answer for it no harm will befall 
 him; and if he does get into trouble, it will 
 serve him right, for it will be no one's fault but 
 his own." Mertoun had turned away again as he 
 Uttered the last sentence. If he had caught sig^ii 
 
THE MOUSETEiVP. 13*? 
 
 of Sliarpe's face, lie might have perceiv-^d that the 
 latter was not so inaccessible to his taunts as he 
 supposed. 
 
 The boys attempted no further remonstrance ; 
 and thev soon reached the spot on which they had 
 bestowed the name of the mill-hole. Mertoun, 
 Seymour, and Markland were speedily undres«ed, 
 and commenced their diving-match, while the other 
 two stood by as arbiters of the contest. A large 
 white stone was flung into the deepest part of the 
 pool, and each boy tried in succession to raise it to 
 the surface. The match soon became very exciting. 
 After many efibrts, Harry succeeded in reaching 
 the stone with his hands, and he had nearly brought 
 it to the top, when his breath failed him, and its 
 weight compelled him to let it go. He had just 
 reached the shore: the other boys were laughing 
 at his mishap ; and Seymour, who was the next to- 
 make the attempt, was predicting his own bettei* 
 success, when suddenly Markland started. 
 
 "Hark!" said he; " did you hear that ? " 
 
 The boys listened attentively. 
 
 "I heard nothing," said Styles. 
 
 " The jackdaws in the elms, yonder," said Sey^ 
 mour. 
 
 "A shepherd calling to his dog," said "West. 
 
 Mertoun said nothing ; his heart smote him. 
 
138 THE FIKST OF JUNE. 
 
 " Hark, again," said Markland, as the wind bore 
 a faint cry from tlie spot which they had left a few 
 minutes before. Mertoun shuddered. 
 
 "It is Edward," cried West. "What is to bo 
 done?" 
 
 "Done!" cried Seymour, starting into instant 
 activity ; " not a moment is to be lost : run instantly 
 to the miller for a rope. Tou are not undressed 
 either. Styles : don't stand gaping there ; run as 
 fast as you can to the place — we will follow wlien 
 we have got our shoes on. Where is Harry ?" 
 
 Mertoun was already half way to the spot, run- 
 ning, undressed as he was, with bare feet, across 
 the meadows, with all the speed which a guilty 
 conscience could lend to his steps. As he sur- 
 mounted the rising ground which lay between him 
 and the bathing-place, he caught sight of a head 
 just above the water, and an arm clinging to some 
 tufts of grass which grew on the steep bank over- 
 hanging the dangerous hole, known to the boys as 
 the mousetrap. The face was towards him, and, 
 as he approached nearer, the wild look of terror 
 and despair, which was imprinted on the features, 
 haunted his memory for years afterwards. 
 
 "Hold on, hold on, but a minute," he cried; " I 
 Ban reach your hand from the bank ! " 
 
 He dashed frantically forward, regardless of the 
 
THE MOUSETEAP. 139 
 
 nettles and stones which wounded his bare flesh. 
 He reached the river-side ; but only just in time to 
 -see a look of vacancy pass over the drowning boy's 
 face, as he sank for the last time into the deep 
 pool beneath him. 
 
 Without a moment's pause, Mertoun plunged 
 after him, and succeeded in catching his school- 
 fellow round the waist, before he reached the 
 bottom ; but his strength was exhausted by his pre- 
 vious exertions in the diving-match, and the rapid 
 speed with which he had crossed the meadows — 
 he was unable to raise him to the surface. Sharpe 
 himself was quite insensible ; and it was, perhaps, 
 fortunate for Mertoun that he was so, or he would 
 infallibly have clung to him with the tenacity 
 which a struggle for life engenders; and, by 
 clogging his exertions, have sealed the fate of both. 
 • As it was, Harry was compelled to quit his hold 
 upon him, and rise to the surface again for air. 
 He was about to dive for the second time -, when 
 he felt a sudden faintness come over him — he made 
 a vain effort to reach the shore — was dimly sensible 
 of human figures near him, and voices sounding in 
 his ear — then the whole scene vanished from his 
 sight, and a total blank succeeded. 
 
 Nearly an hour elapsed before he was again 
 restored to consciousness • and he then found him- 
 
140 THE riEST or juirs. 
 
 self lying on a bed in one of the rooms in tlie 
 miller's house, with his friend "Warbeck seated bj 
 his bed-side. He wondered at the strange aspect 
 of all about him ; and at the solemnity and gloom 
 which sate on Charles's face. He tried to rise, 
 but fell back helpless and exhausted. Slowly, aud 
 like a hideous vision, the incidents of the afternoon 
 returned on his memory. He looked up, and his 
 trembling lips tried in vain to sliape into words 
 the terrible thought that pressed like a leaden 
 weight upon his brain. "Warbeck's eye met his. 
 There was no hope in the mournful calmness of its 
 expression. "Has he? Is he?" gasped Harry, 
 with a violent effort. Warbeck slightly shook his 
 head ; and Mertoun once more fell back in a swoon 
 upon his pillow. 
 
CHAPTER IX 
 
 THE EECKONXNa. 
 
 WnEJC Mertoun once more came to himself, be 
 found "Warbeck leaning over him and moistening 
 his temples with strong stimulants. He smiled 
 kindly as he saw him open his eyes, and said in a 
 gentle voice, "Tou must not grieve so, Harry. 
 You did your best to save him!" But even 
 Warbeck started back, as he saw the expression of 
 liorror that came over his friend's face as he heard 
 these words. " Oh, do not talk so ! Oh, he is not 
 dead, surely ! Tou do not mean that I have killed 
 him! Oh, he is not dead, Charles, is he?" he 
 said, clinging as he spoke with a convulsive grasp 
 to his friend's arm. 
 
 "I must not deceive you, Harry," was the 
 reply ; " they have no hope of restoring animation. 
 Seymour was just in time to save you with Styles*s 
 lielp, as you were going down: but poor Edward 
 had sunk to the very lowest part of the hole, and it 
 
142 THE FIEST OP JUKE. 
 
 'was nearly half an hour before Rob and his men 
 could get him out. West ran home for help, and 
 the Doctor and Mr. Powell came instantly, and 
 were at the miQ almost as soon as Edward was 
 carried in; and they tried every thing that could 
 be thought of, but all to no purpose. The surgeon 
 had arrived, just as I was coming up stairs to you ; 
 and he told Dr. Young, that he would make a 
 further trial to satisfy him, but there was no pulse, 
 and he had not the slightest hope. But I forgot ! 
 I was particularly ordered to give you this draught 
 — it is something to quiet your nerves and make 
 you sleep — and I was to leave you quite alone to 
 have a long rest. Dr. Young has ordered all the 
 boys to go home now; but we may come in the 
 morning, and I will be sure to wake you early, and 
 then we wiU have another talk; at present, we 
 must obey orders. That is right," he said, as 
 Harry, mechanically as it seemed, swallowed the 
 draught presented to him. "Now, good night, 
 Harry," and taking no notice of Mertoun's evident 
 inclination to renew the conversation, with a kind 
 pressure of the hand, he left the room. 
 
 As the door closed behind him, and the room was 
 left in darkness ; for the shutters had been closed 
 by the surgeon's orders ; it seemed to Harry, as 
 though all peace and joy in life had passed away 
 
THE flECKONIKQ. 143 
 
 with his friend's retreating steps; and the dark- 
 ness had gathered in upon him for ever. He could 
 hardly yet believe in the reality of "Warbeck's 
 words : that the rival whom he had hated so bit- 
 terly was dead ; and that his death might, only too 
 truly, be laid at his door. Who left him alone in 
 that notoriously dangerous spot ? Who refused to 
 listen to the remonstrances of his school-fellows, 
 when they warned him of the risk that his victim 
 would run ? Who almost dragged them from his 
 neighbourhood, when, but for him, they were will- 
 ing, nay, wished to remain? Who had taunted 
 and driven him into danger by sneers at his cow- 
 ardice, without which he might not have ventured ? 
 Above all, who had said that it would serve Sharpe 
 right, if harm did befall him ; and that he would be 
 answerable for the consequences ? Again and again 
 these words returned upon him, with the dreadful 
 meaning that after-events had stamped upon them ! 
 It was in vain to think of sleep. No anodyne will 
 ease a conscience laden with such a burden as his. 
 It liad been fearfully awakened from its partial 
 slumber, like a beacon-fire suddenly rekindled after 
 long neglect, and the false lights which had misled 
 him, and the dark places under which he had 
 shrouded his self-deception, vanished in a moment 
 away. By its broad glare, he could trace distinctly 
 
1441 iHE riEST OF JUIfE. 
 
 every evil step whicli had led him from the path of 
 right and safety to the verge of the awful gulf into 
 which he had fallen ! Oh, to think that his angry 
 pride and jealousy had cut short his school-fellow's 
 life! — cut it short in the very moment of mutual 
 rancour and bitterness ! — that he could never make 
 reparation — never ask his forgiveness for the wrong 
 he had done him! — never see him again till — till 
 when ? The thought was too dreadful to be dwelt 
 on ; yet it returned again and again, and would not 
 be driven away ! He tried to pray, but his agonized 
 and remorseful feelings would not shape themselves 
 into prayers ; and his wild entreaties for mercy 
 seemed to be flung back upon him — a leaden weight 
 crushing him yet deeper into the dust. Then too, 
 rose up the recollection of the things he had so 
 earnestly coveted but a few hours ago — for tlie sake 
 of which he brought this terrible judgment upon 
 himself — a nomination at "Westonbury School — a 
 prize for a successful poem — a few runs more or 
 less at a cricket-match 1 What vanity of vanities 
 they seemed ! He could hardly believe that he had 
 ever cared for them at all ! "Was it possible, that 
 for trifles like these he had incurred so awful a 
 penalty ! Hour after hour went by. Harry still 
 continued to toss in restless agony on his bed. He 
 would fain have risen, and sought the society of any 
 
THE EECKOKI^'G. 146 
 
 companions, rather than endure the torture of such 
 solitude: but the thought of what he might en- 
 counter in some lower chamber of the house, was 
 even more full of horror, and fixed him immoveably 
 to his pillow. Throughout his whole after-life, 
 Henry Mertoun never forgot to thank God morning 
 and night, for the merciful severity of that night of 
 sufiering. 
 
 It came to an end at last. The bright lines of 
 light which ruled the edges of the shutters, and 
 the twittering of the birds outside, assured him 
 that it was morning. He felt that he could no 
 longer support the wretchedness of the last few 
 hours ! Let others reproach or punish him as they 
 might, nothing they could say or do could compare 
 with what he had undergone. He rose and un- 
 closed the shutters. It was a bright summer 
 morning. The trees in the fresh green of the 
 early year, and the river leaping and sparkling in 
 the morning sun, as it rushed over the weir adjoin- 
 ing the miller's house, were full of life and rejoicing ; 
 but they only reminded Harry of the plane-trees 
 that overhung the deep pool in the Cumbrook 
 meadows, and the fatal water that flowed beneath 
 them ! He turned away, hurriedly resumed his 
 clothes, and crept softly down stairs. 
 
 He turned first into the kitchen, hoping to find 
 
 L 
 
146 THE FIEST OF JVSE. 
 
 Bomc of the household about; but it was empty, 
 and the barred windows showed t?iat as yet none 
 of the family had left their bedrooms. Opposite 
 the kitchen was a parlour with a sleeping-room 
 beyond, which Harry knew was sometimes let as a 
 lodging during the summer months. It was proba- 
 ble that he would find some one there; but his 
 blood curdled at the thought, who might be the 
 tenant of the room beyond ! Two or three times 
 he lifted his hand to raise the latch, but his fingers 
 refused to perform their ofiice. He turned aside 
 into the porch, and sitting down on a l}ench near the 
 open door, covered his face with his hands. 
 
 He heard a heavy footstep ; " Master Mertoun," 
 exclaimed a hearty voice, though in a carefully sub- 
 dued tone, " glad to see you, sir ; hope you are weH 
 again this morning !" Mertoun nodded in reply, 
 but his tongue clove to the roof of his mouth. 
 " Have you been in ?" continued the miller, nod- 
 ding his head in the direction of the door. Harry 
 ehook his head with a slight shudder. " Then you 
 do not know how Master Sharpe is this morning ?" 
 The boy looked up with an expression of doubt and 
 wonder at this strange question, that fairly bewil- 
 dered his honest questioner. "Why, surely," he 
 said, "young master, you know how bad he has 
 been! It was a mortal two hours, nigher three 
 
Mertoun learns Sharpe is not drowned. 
 
 p. 146 
 
THE BECKONING 147 
 
 before he come to ; and the doctor gave but a queer 
 account of him when he did. He said it would be 
 touch and go with him for the next day or two at 
 best. He was to be sent for directly if Master 
 Sharpe became worse in the night ; and I am un- 
 common glad I have not been knocked up to fetch 
 him. I thought 'twere the more likely, I can tell 
 yoa. But Lord love us, what has come to you 
 now ? " continued the miller, as Mertoun suddenly 
 starting up without a word, rushed hastily past him 
 and disappeared into his bedroom. "Why the 
 young gentleman has gone clean daft-like. I judge 
 the sousing yesterday has washed all the brains out 
 of him ! " And with this lucid solution of the pro- 
 blem, the worthy miller, after tapping at the parlour 
 door and ascertaining that the patient had passed a 
 satisfactory night, proceeded to busy himself with 
 his usual morning avocations. 
 
 Our tale follows Harry into the room whither 
 he had retreated. On his knees before his bed-side, 
 with his head buried in the counterpane, he was 
 pouring forth half audibly a torrent of broken 
 prayers, mingled with sobs and tears of thankful- 
 ness. He was so amazed and bewildered at the 
 great mercy that had been granted him, that he 
 found it more difficult to realise it to himself, than 
 even the shock of the last night. The overwhelm- 
 
 L 2 
 
148 THE rmsT of jvkh. 
 
 ing weight was lifted from Lis heart, yet he could 
 scarce believe that it was gone. It was like sight 
 restored to the blind, when by the newly-recovered 
 light objects appear, for the while, shapeless and 
 unreal: or, like starting from a hideous dream, 
 when the disordered nerves still retain the impres- 
 sion of their recent suffering, and refuse to credit 
 the assurance of the awakened senses. Edward 
 alive ! the possibility of redeeming the past ! Of 
 exchanging forgiveness ! Of effacing old jealousy 
 and hatred by love and kindness ! How he wept, 
 and prayed, and blessed God: apprehending for 
 the first time that of all Divine mercies there is 
 none so gracious as the permission to repent ! 
 
 But Mertoun's imagination hurried him on toa 
 fast. Sharpe was still in a most precarious state, 
 and so reduced in strength, that it was nearly a 
 fortnight before he could bear even the short jour- 
 ney to Dr. Young's house, or see any visitor. Every 
 day Harry went between school-hours to Cumbrook 
 Mill, to leave a bunch of wild flowers that he had 
 gathered, or a book of prints, — for Edward was not 
 yet allowed to read, — or a basket of early straw- 
 berries, with a kind message of enquiry and hopes 
 for his speedy restoration : ajid though the reports 
 were generally favourable, yet the progress was very 
 slow, and there were occasionally slight relapses 
 
THE KECKONTN'G. 149 
 
 wMch renewed for the time Harry's alarm and 
 disquietude. Very wholesome for him were these 
 visits. Wholesome was the sacrifice of his play- 
 hours which they entailed upon him. "Wholesome, 
 the equally kind messages and thanks he received 
 in return from his former rival : for he too was 
 softened by suffering, and startled by the near 
 approach of death. — Most wholesome of all, the 
 habit of fervent daily prayer for his school-fellow's 
 recovery, which they engendered and sustained. 
 It was a happy day when Sharpe was at last strong 
 •enough to be removed to the school-house ; and it 
 was reported that his mother and brother felt now 
 •suflSciently assured of his recovery, to leave him for 
 awhile and return home. 
 
 It was a few days after this, that Dr. Young one 
 morning summoned Harry to his study : the latter 
 had renewed, the evening before, his oft-repeated 
 petition, to be allowed to see Edward ; a step 
 which the surgeon had always positively refused 
 to sanction. 
 
 " I have something to say to you, Harry," said 
 he. " Edward is still too weak to see you without 
 «erious risk, and will probably continue so for 
 many days. But I had a long conversation with 
 him yesterday j and it is by his request that I now 
 «peak to you. 
 
150 THE riEST OF JUNE. 
 
 ^'He iias told me the wliole history of your 
 fivalry, which has risen during the last few weeks 
 to a greater height than I confess I ever suspected ; 
 though I have long seen that it was secretly in- 
 fluencing you both. Edward does not excuse or 
 disguise his own share of the guilt ; which, it is 
 needless to say, is ever inseparable from such 
 angry and bitter feelings as you have both indulged. 
 He admits that it has been the ruling motive of 
 his life, for the last twelve months past ; and has 
 stimulated him to work as he has done. He con- 
 siders the chief blame of what has passed to be 
 his." 
 
 " Oh ! Dr. Young, he must not say that ! The 
 fault was far more mine than his. It was my 
 pride and jealousy alone, that made me entertain 
 unfounded suspicion. I felt that on the night 
 after Edward was so nearly drowned. Oh ! I shall 
 r^ver forget that night, if I live to be a hundred 
 years old!" 
 
 " Tour feeling is a right one, Harry. You had 
 no solid ground for your suspicions ; in fact, you 
 were almost entirely mistaken throughout. Never- 
 theless, before you see Edward, and exchange with 
 him mutual forgiveness, it is right that you should 
 know the real facts of the case. Eirst, as regards 
 the suspected letters. Sharpe was in the habit of 
 
THE BECKONING. 151 
 
 Bending his exercises to be corrected by his brother, 
 at Cambridge; and the letter found by Markland 
 in his jacket, did contain one of Edward's themes 
 that had been so corrected. But — do not look so 
 amazed, Harry — there was nothing unfair, for they 
 were never sent to his brother until after they had 
 been delivered to me. I have clearly ascertained 
 that fact from Mr. Sharpe himself, who has thought 
 it right to submit his brother's letters, together 
 with his own replies, to my inspection. And, 
 Harry, if you had not been blinded by your 
 jealous feelings, you might have known that such 
 must be the case. The subjects are never set till 
 Monday night, and are delivered to me on the 
 Thursday afternoons. As Cambridge is a day's 
 post distant from this place, Edward could not 
 have sent his exercises for correction, and received 
 them back, in the manner you believed ; unless he 
 had been able to complete them in time for the 
 early post on Tuesday, which would not allow him 
 above an hour for their composition." 
 
 Mertoun hung his head. 
 
 •* True," he said, half speaking to himself. ^' But 
 I never tried to find out any thing that might 
 prove him innocent." 
 
 There was a pause, and then the Doctor re- 
 sumed. 
 
152 THE riBST OF JUNE. 
 
 " As for the letter you found on the green, I have 
 Been that also. It contained nothing but a collectiou 
 of mottoes, forwarded to Edward by his brother, 
 suitable to the subject of his poem. In all this, 
 then, was nothing unfair. Yet Sharpe acknow- 
 ledges, and justly, that he was not without blame. 
 He saw that you and Markland were puzzled and 
 distrustful on the subject of his letters ; and he 
 amused himself with irritating still further your 
 jealousy and suspicion. 
 
 " In the matter of the missing book, he is more 
 to blame : yet here, also, not in the way you sup- 
 posed. I took the book out myself, meaning to 
 refer to a passage mentioned by Mr. Loughten iu 
 his letter ; but something occurred immediately 
 afterwards which made me forget it. It was laid 
 on my library-table, and buried, I believe, under a 
 heap of books and papers. Sharpe was in the 
 library when I went in to look for it : and thought, 
 it appears, that I meant to prevent the boys from 
 using it in the composition of their poems. He had 
 a copy, of his own, of the work ; which he resolved 
 to keep to himself: and when the enquiry was 
 made after the library copy, he contented himself 
 with simply saying, he had neither taken it, nor got 
 it. Jealousy of you, and a desire to wrest the prize 
 from your grasp, made him conceal, what in honour 
 
THE BECKONING. 153 
 
 and fairness he should have revealed. On my return 
 I did not find the book in my study ; or perhaps 
 the fact of its absence from the school-library, 
 during the past week, would have struck me. I 
 have made enquiries on the subject, and find that 
 Mrs. Young — who had all the rooms thoroughly 
 cleaned out during my absence, and who neither 
 knew what the book was, or that any book had 
 been missed — replaced it in the school-library on 
 the evening of my return. Edward is fully con- 
 scious of his fault ; and it is a strong proof to me 
 of his sincerity, that he rejoices to think the nomi- 
 nation, obtained by such questionable means, has 
 been forfeited. The day of election at "Weston- 
 bury has long passed ; and as Edward could not, 
 of course, appear there, another candidate has been 
 nominated to the vacancy he was to have had. 
 You must not reproach yourself, Harry," continued 
 the Doctor, as he saw the expression which came 
 into the boy's face ; " trust me, it is the greatest 
 mercy to him, that he has not been allowed to have 
 it. And now, Harry, as regards the prize for your 
 own poem ?" 
 
 Harry looked up. " Oh ! sir, you do not think 
 I could take that, do you ? I am sure the sight 
 of the books would never be any thing but shame 
 find misery to me!'* 
 
154 THE riEST or jxtste. 
 
 " You are right," said the Doctor, briefly. " I 
 will see Mr. Loughten on the subject. And now, 
 is there any thing more you would say to me ? 1 
 will promise you, that you shall see Edward the 
 very day that the medical man pronounces it safe 
 for you to do so." 
 
 " Only one thing, sir," replied Mertoun ; " and 
 that is, — that you do not oblige me to go in for 
 the half-yearly examination for the prizes this 
 time." 
 
 "I understand," said the Doctor, as briefly as 
 before. " I will give you some other work to do 
 instead." ' 
 
 Harry was about to leave the room, but he saw 
 that the Doctor had something more to say. 
 
 " There is one other subject, nbout which I wish 
 to speak to you, Harry ; and which I had forgotten 
 till this moment. I omitted, I believe, to tell you, 
 tliat Sharpe has asked his mother to send him to 
 Westonbury School after the holidays, if he can pro- 
 cure admission there ; though, of course, he cannot 
 now be on the foundation. He says, and I believe 
 he is right, that it is not desirable he should remain 
 here after what has taken place. I am to see the 
 Warden of "Westonbury on the subject next week ; 
 and I hope an arrangement for admitting him may 
 be made. Now, what I wish to say to you is this. 
 
THE EECKOBING. 155 
 
 1 believe Edward has selected Westonbury because 
 he wishes to be near you ; in order that he may try 
 to make up to you, by future kiQdness, for past 
 enmity and iQ usage. I wish to warn you as I have 
 warned him on the subject. Do not build too 
 much on your present excited feelings : when these 
 cool down, there will be much to interrupt the 
 growth of warm friendship between you. You 
 especially will find it very difficult to feel towards 
 him, as you do towards Charles or Seymour. Tour 
 characters are different ; and, besides, it is rarely 
 allowed us in this world wholly to efface, however 
 fully we may forgive, old jealousies and mutual 
 wrongs. Do not, then, relax your efforts towards 
 gaining each other's friendship, if you find it long 
 before any cordial feeling subsists between you. 
 Though it may be hard for you to be warm friends, 
 it is not impossible. By unwearied perseverance 
 and God's gracious help, there is no human being 
 whom we may not teach ourselves to love ; none 
 whose love it may not be granted to us to win. 
 And remember this, Harry, — and let it be my part- 
 ing advice to you, — if there be any one, as you pass 
 through life, towards whom you feel an aversion 
 which you cannot overcome, — never make your dis- 
 like a matter of boasting to yourself or others ; but 
 rather let it humble you : for were it not for tho 
 
i5G THE riEST OF JUNE. 
 
 weakness and corruption of your own heart, there 
 is no one whom you would not, far less whom you 
 could not, love.'* 
 
 Harry bowed silently, and left the room. 
 
 The last week of the half-year passed rapidly 
 away ; the breaking-up day arrived ; and the boys 
 ■met as usual for the half-yearly distribution of 
 prizes. Those of the first class were awarded to 
 Warbeck and Seymour ; and, among the younger 
 ones, "Walter Mertoun was again honourably re- 
 membered. And now hands were being shaken, 
 and farewell greetings exchanged. Markland, Sey- 
 mour, and "West pressed round Mertoun, with 
 •earnest entreaties not to forget the old school, and 
 promises to be kind to, and careful of little AValter, 
 for his sake. Nor was our hero behind them in 
 assurances that he would ever bear them in remem- 
 brance. Then he turned away from them, with 
 tears in his eyes, to his oldest friend. 
 
 " Good bye, Charles," said he, wringing "War- 
 beck's hand; "I shall not find another Warbeck 
 at AVestonbury." 
 
 "Yes, you will, and many better," was the reply, 
 " and meanwhile, we will never lose sight of ono 
 another." 
 
 They were preparing to leave the room, when 
 Dr. Young's voice arrested thorn. 
 
THE EECKONING. 157 
 
 "Stop, boys," said he, "I have something to tell 
 you. Partings are always sad things, and I knew 
 that our parting to-day vrould be more sad than 
 usual : so I have kept a little piece of good news to 
 the last, in order to lighten it as much as possible. 
 You may remember, Mertoun, that I told you, that 
 the nomination at "Westonbury had been forfeited : 
 and also that I would see the "Warden on the sub- 
 ject of Sharpe's admission as a non-foundationer 
 there, next half-year ; — as well as Mr. Lougbten 
 respecting your prize. I called on the latter last 
 week, and, in his company, had an interview with 
 the Warden of Westonbury. I gave him a brief 
 outline of what had passed, together with my, 
 opinion of you both : and laid your poems before 
 him. He listened attentively, and promised to 
 take the matter into his consideration. The dav 
 before yesterday, I received a letter from him, con- 
 senting to receive Edward Sharpe after the holi- 
 days. Further, he expresses his high approval of 
 the two prize-poems ; and states that he feels so 
 much interested in the writers, that he will, at the 
 college election next year, give a nomination to 
 each of them ; provided that their conduct, up to 
 that time, should be found to justify him in doing 
 
 BO.' 
 
 Little "Walter clapped his hands. " Oh, if it 
 
158 TKE FIRST OF JUNE. 
 
 depends on his good conduct," said he, " Ha^-rj 
 will be sure to get it." 
 
 The Doctor glanced kindly at the little bov. 
 ** I hope so, Walter," he said ; and, after a slight 
 pause, " I think so too." 
 
 If the reader is interested in Walter's own 
 history, he will find it related in the "Doctor's 
 Birthday " and " Walter's Friend." 
 
 p 
 
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