Louis' School Days Part 39

"What have I done with it now?" Louis exclaimed suddenly, as they reached the dining-room door, after stopping a few seconds in the hall to hang up his coat. "What can I have done with it? I must have slipped it into my desk just now, when I put my Livy in."

He was not able to turn back then; and, in the mean time, Hamilton had paid a hasty visit to the cla.s.s-room, to collect his things, and had locked up carefully the false packet; and Louis had not courage to make any inquiries, though he hoped that he might have found the right one, which, with all his care, he could not discover himself. Louis had, in his hurry, left Rollin on the study-table, and after school he ran into the room, and finding it in nearly the same place where Hamilton had been guarding it for him, he carried it off, and Hamilton, seeing the action, made no remark on the matter.

The next evening, the Latin poems were sent in to the doctor's study for comparison, and Hamilton's blank counterfeit was t.i.tled on the cover, and dispatched with a degree of nervous anxiety that certainly would not have been called forth by a subject so empty. Louis was in an agony of remorse, when the truth burst on him. His only hope was, that Hamilton might have found the right packet. He heard the speculations around him as to the probability of success, and saw the last paper put into Norman's hand to be carried away, but he dared not say any thing. He had never dreamt of the importance of the paper he had so carelessly dropped or mislaid, and would have given all he possessed to have remembered what he had done with it.

Nothing more was done that evening. Study had helped to drive away the smaller qualms of conscience the day before; but he was now so sick at heart, that he remained with his head on his hand doing nothing, puzzling himself in vain to remember what he had done with the poem.

CHAPTER XXI.

It was Sat.u.r.day night when the ma.n.u.scripts were delivered to the doctor, and it was not till Monday that the absence of Hamilton's poem was discovered. As much of Sunday as he was able, Louis spent with Ca.s.son, trying to discover what could have become of the poem, and in devising all manner of schemes for its recovery and restoration.

Little comfort he received from his tempter--Ca.s.son alternately laughed at his fears, and blamed his cowardice--and, in order to escape this, Louis affected to be indifferent to the consequences, concealing his heaviness of heart under a.s.sumed mirth and unconcern. He had lately spent many cold, careless Sabbaths, but one so utterly wretched as this he could not remember.

The boys had just left the dining-room on Monday, after dinner, when a summons to the doctor's study came for Hamilton. As this was not an uncommon occurrence, Hamilton betrayed neither curiosity nor uneasiness, but quietly gave a few directions to his little brother, and then leisurely left the room. He was soon in the presence of Dr. Wilkinson, Mr. James Wilkinson, and an old gentleman who had a day or two before been examining his cla.s.s, and who usually a.s.sisted in the half-yearly examinations. The countenances of these gentlemen were not very promising, and he instantly saw that something unpleasant might be expected. Before the doctor lay a number of folded papers, which Hamilton recognized as the poems under consideration, and in his hand was a blank sheet of paper, the envelope of which had fallen on the floor.

"Mr. Hamilton," said the doctor, "I have sent for you to explain this strange affair. Pray can you tell me what was in this envelope?"

He stooped, and, picking up the paper as he spoke, handed it to Hamilton.

"My poem, sir," replied Hamilton, quietly.

"You are sure that is your writing?"

"Quite," said Hamilton, confidently.

"I have been able to discover nothing more than this," said the doctor, with something like annoyance in his tone. "I do not know whether you have been writing with invisible ink. This is a mistake, Hamilton,"

he added, turning the blank sheet in all directions. "Where is your poem?"

"That in _my_ envelope, sir!" exclaimed Hamilton, reddening to the roots of his hair. "In _my_ envelope!" he reiterated, taking up the envelope and re-examining it in a state of tremulous excitement. "I _cannot_ have made such a mistake--it is utterly impossible."

"I should say so--impossible, unconsciously, to make so great a mistake,"

said the old gentleman.

"And equally so, sir, to make it _consciously_," replied Hamilton.

"But where is the poem?" asked Dr. Wilkinson.

"I expected it was here," said Hamilton--"and, as it is not, I cannot answer that question, sir." He again turned over the paper, but could find no clue to the mystery.

"Is the paper the same as you used?" asked Mr. James.

"It is," replied Hamilton; "and the seal is my own, as well as the writing."

"What is the seal?" asked Dr. Berry, the old gentleman.

"E.H. It belongs to this pencil-case," answered Hamilton, producing his pencil-case. "I always carry it about with me."

"That's awkward again," said Dr. Berry, exchanging a look with Mr. James.

"Have you never left your pencil-case about lately, nor lent it to any one?" asked Dr. Wilkinson.

Hamilton considered.

"I believe I left it with all my things on the cla.s.s-room table last Friday, when I went out with you, sir."

"Ah!" said Dr. Berry, "what did you leave there?"

"Some writing-paper, pens, a few books, and my poem, which I had just finished."

"That was careless of you, Hamilton," said Dr. Wilkinson.

"I had only just sealed it in time to run after you, sir," replied Hamilton; "and, as every one was out, I thought there could be no harm in leaving them there till I returned."

"How much paper did you leave there?" asked Mr. James.

"About half a quire."

"_About_ half a quire; then, I suppose, you do not know whether any of that paper was taken while you were away?"

"No, I do not," replied Hamilton. "If any one changed it, it must have been then; as, after I came home, it was locked up in my own writing-desk till Sat.u.r.day evening."

"It might have been changed on the way," suggested Mr. James.

Hamilton was silent for a few seconds, when he answered:

"I do not think so; for I am sure this is my writing: I must unwittingly have directed an empty packet."

"Unless," said Dr. Wilkinson, quietly, "some one has imitated your writing?"

"I only know one who could," replied Hamilton, coloring; "and, I am confident, he was not the party: besides, sir, I do not think there was time, between Norman's departure and his return, to have done it, and that was the only time any one would have had after I had directed it. I did not direct it till Sat.u.r.day evening."

"But you said the boys were all out at the same time with yourself; and, in fact, I know they were: I saw them going in as we turned into the playground," said Dr. Wilkinson. "Did no one stay at home?

Stay--_Friday_--Digby was at home; I remember he pleaded his cold."

Dr. Wilkinson looked down on the paper he held: there was a strong expression of suspicion in his countenance. The other gentlemen exchanged looks, and Mr. James remarked, that he considered Frank the probable culprit.

"I am glad he does not hear you say so, sir," exclaimed Hamilton. "I am sure Digby would sooner put his own on the fire! I'd trust Frank's honor as much as my own; and, I am sure, sir," he added, turning to Dr. Wilkinson, "_you_ know Frank too well."

To Hamilton's annoyance, Dr. Wilkinson did not reply immediately.

"Frank is too fond of practical jokes," he said, at last; "I wish I could give him a lesson he would remember. He will never be cured till it touches him severely."

"But Frank would not joke on this, sir," expostulated Hamilton.

"If he were not so high it might be so, but I'm sure it is not now."

"Well, there is no time now to consider of this any more," said Dr. Wilkinson, getting up. "I could bring forward many instances of Digby's disregard of feelings and appearances when his fancy for joking interferes. Dr. Berry, will you be kind enough to attend to these for me, this afternoon? I shall be glad to call upon you on Wednesday for my second cla.s.s, if you can spare me the day."