‘I saw him walk down to the Brocas with Vere,’ said a boy. ‘I hope it is not Vere,’ said a little boy, with a tearful eye; ‘he never lets any fellow bully me.’ ‘Here is Maltravers,’ halloed out a boy; ‘he knows something.’ ‘Well, what do you know, Maltravers?’ ‘I heard Boots at the Christopher say that an Eton fellow was drowned, and that he had seen a person who was there.’ ‘Bring Boots here,’ said Sedgwick. Instantly a band of boys rushed over the way, and in a moment the witness was produced. ‘What have you heard, Sam, about this accident?’ said Sedgwick. ‘Well, sir, I heard a young gentleman was drowned above Monkey Island,’ said Boots. ‘And no name mentioned?’ ‘Well, sir, I believe it was Mr. Coningsby.’ A general groan of horror. ‘Coningsby, Coningsby! By Heavens I hope not,’ said Sedgwick. ‘I very much fear so,’ said Boots; ‘as how the bargeman who told me saw Mr. Coningsby in the Lock House laid out in flannels.’ ‘I had sooner any fellow had been drowned than Coningsby,’ whispered one boy to another. ‘I liked him, the best fellow at Eton,’ responded his companion, in a smothered tone. ‘What a clever fellow he was!’ ‘And so deuced generous!’ ‘He would have got the medal if he had lived.’ ‘And how came he to be drowned? for he was such a fine swimmer!’ ‘I heerd Mr. Coningsby was saving another’s life,’ continued Boots in his evidence, ‘which makes it in a manner more sorrowful.’ ‘Poor Coningsby!’ exclaimed a boy, bursting into tears: ‘I move the whole school goes into mourning.’ ‘I wish we could get hold of this bargeman,’ said Sedgwick. ‘Now stop, stop, don’t all run away in that mad manner; you frighten the people. Charles Herbert and Palmer, you two go down to the Brocas and inquire.’ But just at this moment, an increased stir and excitement were evident in the Long Walk; the circle round Sedgwick opened, and there appeared Henry Sydney and Buckhurst. There was a dead silence. It was impossible that suspense could be strained to a higher pitch. The air and countenance of Sydney and Buckhurst were rather excited than mournful or alarmed. They needed no inquiries, for before they had penetrated the circle they had become aware of its cause. Buckhurst, the most energetic of beings, was of course the first to speak. Henry Sydney indeed looked pale and nervous; but his companion, flushed and resolute, knew exactly how to hit a popular assembly, and at once came to the point. ‘It is all a false report, an infernal lie; Coningsby is quite safe, and nobody is drowned.’ There was a cheer that might have been heard at Windsor Castle. Then, turning to Sedgwick, in an undertone Buckhurst added, ‘It _is_ all right, but, by Jove! we have had a shaver. I will tell you all in a moment, but we want to keep the thing quiet, and so let the fellows disperse, and we will talk afterwards.’