The master put the questions—the questions which formed so strong an indictment against himself—with grim solemnity. Paul scarcely knew how to answer him, so was silent.

"Well?" persisted Mr. Weevil.

"I must say that at one time I was suspicious of you, sir. I thought you were in league with traitors against your country—against England."

"When did your opinion alter?"

"When I heard you in the cave appealing to Zuker to give up his scheme; when I heard you telling him that the hand of a Higher than man was in it. Then I remembered that however stern you had been to others, you had been kind and tender to Hibbert, and it slowly dawned upon me that it was for poor Hibbert's sake you kept in with Zuker, that for his sake you were playing a part you did not care for."

"Thank you. I'm glad you've done me justice in your own mind, Percival," answered the master, with more feeling than he was in the habit of displaying. "You have guessed my motive precisely. It was for Hibbert's sake—the son of the sister I loved—that I kept on friendly terms with Zuker. But my duty to Hibbert—my love for him—did not make me blind to the interests of my country. All along I have been in communication with the Moncriefs. It was I who first communicated with Mr. Henry Moncrief, in cipher, the information of Zuker's arrival in England. It was arranged, however, that Zuker was to be allowed to develop his plans, along with his confederates, before any action was taken to checkmate him. The Admiralty wished to obtain complete information of all the details of the scheme, and I alone was in the position of giving it them. First of all, however, I made my terms with the Admiralty. They were these: When Zuker's plans were developed, they were at liberty to take what action they pleased to counteract those plans, and arrest any accomplice who might be engaged in work with Zuker, but I made this proviso, that no step should be taken to arrest Zuker himself, without my knowledge and sanction. Furthermore, that in return for the information I was able to furnish as to every detail of the plot, I was to be permitted in the last resort to warn Zuker, so that he might escape to his native country, if he cared to.

"In that interview you overheard, I made my first strong appeal to him. Unfortunately it was not successful, and worse than that, he became suspicious of me. The death of dear little Hibbert took away the only link that bound me to Zuker. One or two of his confederates were arrested, and he himself became conscious that the net was closing round himself. Your appearance in his hiding-place must have brought that home to him. What happened after that I can only guess. I have two theories—the first, that, in escaping by the river, he might have taken refuge for a time on the old battleship, and was in hiding at the time when the fire broke out. The other theory is that, recognizing that his schemes had been a complete failure, he deliberately set fire to the ship, and perished in the flames. He who knows the motives as well as the actions of all men, will alone know which of these theories is the right one. God be merciful to him, as to me, miserable sinner."

Mr. Weevil stood with bowed head. And as he breathed, thus reverently, the response he had so often heard, Paul felt his mother's hand stealing into his, as it had so often stolen into it in the village church in days gone by, when the good vicar read the Litany, and prayed for deliverance from "lightning and tempest, from plague, pestilence, and famine; from battle and murder, and from sudden death." The man who had brought about "the sudden death" of his father, had ended his with tragic swiftness, and now stood before the Judge of all. The time for the last great trial had come for Israel Zuker.

"Before Him—before the Judge of all men," said Mr. Weevil, at length breaking the silence, "I hope to justify myself for what I have done, as well as for what I have left undone, but in the meantime I shall never forget the part that you have played, Percival. It is true, profoundly true, that no good deed is ever lost. Your kindness to Hibbert will ever be a sacred memory to me. Good-night, Percival, and God bless you."

"Good-night sir."

And Paul, with his heart very full, turned from the room.

When Paul went out, Mr. Weevil did not retire to rest. He was one of those men who require very little sleep. He unlocked a drawer in his desk, and took from it several loose sheets of paper, with entries on them. These he regarded closely for a moment or two, then leaned reflectively back in his chair, with eyes closed. Then he looked at the pages again, together with some memoranda jotted on a separate sheet of paper. His scrutiny ended, he put them back into the drawer, and locked them up again.

Having done this, he took up a sheet of foolscap, on which was written, in the form of a petition, the resolution of the Fifth calling upon Mr. Weevil to expel Percival from Garside. To this petition were attached the names of the mover and seconder of the resolution—Stanley Moncrief and Parfitt—followed by the names of the other boys in the Form, with the exception of Waterman.

Mr. Weevil had not yet answered this unusual petition, so he took up a pen and paper and wrote:

"Mr. Weevil's compliments, and he will be pleased to meet the Fifth, and go into their petition to-morrow. As so delicate a matter cannot be discussed before the whole school, the form will return to the class-room, where the master will come to them at the end of the day's work. One last proviso, as it is the conduct of Percival which has been impugned, it will, of course, be necessary for him to be present at the inquiry, so that he may be heard in his own defence."

This note he folded up, placed in an envelope, and directed to Hasluck, the head of the Form. The following morning it was delivered to Hasluck by Bax, the porter. Having read it, Hasluck passed it round the Form. Waterman was next to Percival. Instead of passing it to him, he just glanced at it and passed it back to Parfitt with a yawn.

"Doesn't interest me. More in your line, Parfitt."

Waterman, in this dexterous manner, escaped the painful duty of passing on a note for which he was in no way responsible.

As he afterwards said, "he liked to see others troubling over their own underhand business."

Parfitt bit his lip, then, without a word, handed it to Paul. Paul read it. He had no difficulty in understanding its meaning. Harry had told him about the meeting that had been held about him. This letter was the result of it.

Adopting Parfitt's own tactics, he handed it back without a word, but he could not help stealing a glance at Stanley. His eyes were heavy, as though from want of sleep. He looked quite haggard and ill. He kept his eyes away from Paul, as though uncertain as to himself. He looked very miserable, and, indeed, he was even more miserable than he looked.

At the close of school that day, the Fifth passed back to their class-room. Soon after, Mr. Weevil entered. He looked cold, stern, implacable—a different man from the one Paul had seen the previous night speaking in tremulous tones about Hibbert. Those little human traits seemed to have vanished with the night. He was no longer the man, but the judge.

"Step forward, Percival," he said briefly.

Paul stepped forward.

"You know the charge against you?"

"No, sir; I've come to hear."

"The charge is in this petition," said the master, taking up the petition, which he unfolded and placed on the desk. "I needn't read it, but I can tell you briefly what the charge is. The charge is that you connived with the boys of a rival college—St. Bede's—to have the flag, which is held in so much honour and esteem here, stolen from the tower."

"Yes, sir. Anything more?" asked Paul, as the master paused and glanced down at the petition.

"The petition further alleges that having placed this dishonour on the school, you connived with the enemy to keep it by them till it suited your time and purpose, and that then you arranged for its return."

"Time and purpose?" repeated Paul. "What purpose?"

"What purpose?" repeated the master, glancing again at the petition. "It is clearly enough set forth. Listen. 'Percival had made enemies of his Form, and had looked for his friends at St. Bede's. His object in getting back the flag was to try to regain at one stroke some of his lost popularity.' Is that clear enough?"

"Quite clear, sir. What followed?"

"A resolution was moved and carried, with only one dissentient, that you should be expelled from the school."

"Who—who moved the resolution?" asked Percival, with an effort.

"Is it worth while my giving names?"

"I would like to know, sir, if you would be kind enough."

Mr. Weevil glanced at the names. He did not answer. The silence was broken by Stanley.

"I moved the resolution, Percival—Paul!" he cried, in a voice that seemed to be choking him. "I did you an injustice before all the Form. I now ask your pardon before all the Form. I'm ashamed of myself—ashamed that I so degraded myself as to move that resolution. My eyes were shut. Now they're open. I've been groping about in the dark. Now I'm in the light. I was a fool ever to doubt you, but appearances were so against you. It was your turning away from Wyndham at the gravel-pits that so rankled in my mind, and—and your friendly meetings with him after. I did not know——"

"Stop! Not quite so fast!" commanded Mr. Weevil. Stanley had poured out at a feverish rate the words that had been burning at his heart throughout the whole of the night and day. "Do I understand that you, Moncrief major, who proposed this resolution, now wish to withdraw it?"

"Yes, sir; every word of it. I have wronged Percival—deeply wronged him, and before all the Form I ask his pardon."

Paul's heart leapt with joy. He cared little what the others might think. Stanley had come round of his own accord. He had voluntarily asked his pardon. Paul grasped the hand stretched out to him.

"I see that it was you, Parfitt, who seconded this resolution, asking that Percival should be expelled from the school. Is it your wish to withdraw also?" asked the master.

"Certainly not," said Parfitt indignantly. "I'm not going to turn tail because Moncrief has. If Moncrief has sold me, I'm not going to sell all the other fellows who signed that petition."

A murmur of approval came from "the other fellows," except Waterman. He greeted it with the customary yawn.

"You still hold to your wish that Percival should be expelled from Garside?" asked Mr. Weevil.

"Yes, sir."

"You understand that expelling a scholar from Garside is a very serious matter. It is a grave stigma placed on him at the commencement of his career—a stigma which clings to him when he goes from school into the sterner battle of life. I'm bound to impress this upon you, Parfitt, so that you may understand the gravity of the step you wish me to take."

"I understand, sir. We all understand."

"And you decline to do what Moncrief has done—withdraw from the petition?"

"Yes, sir. We can't stand Percival any longer."

"Hear! hear!" from Newall.

Suddenly, to the astonishment of the Form, the master opened the desk before him, and drew from it a book.

"You know this book?" he demanded.

Know it? They knew it but too well. It was the dreaded Black Book.