He fixed his full, piercing eye on the culprit, whom it seemed to scorch and wither. Brigson winced back, and said nothing. “As I thought,” said Mr. Rose. “Not _one_ boy only, but many, were engaged. I shall call you up one by one to answer me. Wildney, come here.” The boy walked in front of the desk. “Were you one of those who threw?” Wildney, full as he was of dangerous and deadly faults, was no coward, and not a liar. He knew, or at least feared, that this new scrape might be fatal to him, but, raising his dark and glistening eyes to Mr. Rose, he said penitently-- “I didn’t throw, sir, but I _did_ put out one of the candles that it might be done.” The contrast with Brigson was very great; the dark cloud hung a little less darkly on Mr. Rose’s forehead, and there was a very faint murmur of applause. “Good! stand back. Pietrie, come up.” Pietrie, too, confessed, and indeed all the rest of the plotters except Brooking. Mr. Rose’s lip curled with scorn as he heard the exclamation which his denial caused; but he suffered him to sit down. When Wright’s turn came to be asked, Mr. Rose said--“No! I shall not even ask you, Wright. I know well that your character is too good to be involved in such an attempt.” The boy bowed humbly, and sat down. Among the last questioned was Vernon Williams, and Mr. Rose seemed anxious for his answer. “No,” he said at once,--and seemed to wish to add something. “Go on,” said Mr. Rose, encouragingly. “Oh, sir! I only wanted to say that I hope you won’t think Eric knew of this. He would have hated it, sir, more even than I do.” “Good,” said Mr. Rose; “I am sure of it. And now,” turning to the offenders, “I shall teach you never to dare again to be guilty of such presumption and wickedness as to-night. I shall punish you according to my notion of your degrees of guilt. Brigson, bring me a cane from that desk.” He brought it. “Hold out your hand.” The cane fell, and instantly split up from top to bottom. Mr. Rose looked at it, for it was new that morning. “Hah! I see; more mischief; there is a hair in it.” The boys were too much frightened to smile at the complete success of the trick. “Who did this? I must be told at once.” “I did, sir,” said Wildney, stepping forward. “Ha! very well,” said Mr. Rose, while, in spite of his anger, a smile hovered at the corner of his lips. “Go and borrow me a cane from Mr. Harley.” While he went there was unbroken silence. “Now, sir,” said he to Brigson, “I shall flog you.” Corporal punishment was avoided with the bigger boys, and Brigson had never undergone it before. At the first stroke he writhed and yelled; at the second he retreated, twisting like a serpent, and blubbering like a baby; at the third he flung himself on his knees, and, as the strokes fell fast, clasped Mr. Rose’s arm, and implored and besought for mercy.