Vernon instantly sat down, and turned deadly pale. He thought, and he had hoped, that since the day at the “Jolly Herring,” his brother had abandoned all such practices, for Eric had been most careful to conceal from him the worst of his failings. And now he trembled violently with fear for his discovery, and horror at his disgraceful condition. The sound of Eric’s unsteady footsteps had made Mr. Rose quickly raise his head; but at the same moment Duncan hastily made room for the boy on the seat beside him, and held out his hand to assist him. It was not Eric’s proper place; but Mr. Rose, after one long look of astonishment, looked down at his book again, and said nothing. It made other hearts besides Vernon’s ache to see the unhappy boy roll to his place in that helpless way. Dr. Rowlands came in, and prayers commenced. When they were finished, the names were called, and Eric, instead of quietly answering his “adsum,” as he should have done, stood up, with a foolish look, and said, “Yes, Sir.” The head master looked at him for a minute; the boy’s glassy eyes, and jocosely stupid appearance, told an unmistakable tale; but Dr. Rowlands only remarked, “Williams, you don’t look well. You had better go at once to bed.” It was hopeless for Eric to attempt getting along without help, so Duncan at once got up, took him by the arm, and with much difficulty (for Eric staggered at every step) conducted him to his bed-room. Wildney’s condition was also too evident; and Mr. Rose, while walking up and down the dormitories, had no doubt left on his mind that both Eric and Wildney had been drinking. But he made no remarks to them, and merely went to the Doctor to talk over the steps which were to be taken. “I shall summon the school,” said Dr. Rowlands, “on Monday, and by that time we will decide on the punishment. Expulsion, I fear, is the only course open to us.” “Is not that a _very_ severe line to take?” “Perhaps; but the offence is of the worst character I must consider the matter.” “Poor Williams!” sighed Mr. Rose, as he left the room. The whole of the miserable Sunday that followed was spent by Eric and his companions in vain inquiries and futile restlessness. It seemed clear that two of them at least were detected, and they were inexpressibly wretched with anxiety and suspense. Wildney, who had to stay in bed, was even more depressed; his head ached violently, and he was alone with his own terrified thoughts. He longed for the morrow, that at least he might have the poor consolation of knowing his fate. No one came near him all day. Eric wished to do so, but as he could not have visited the room without express leave, the rest dissuaded him from asking, lest he should excite further suspicion. His apparent neglect made poor Wildney even more unhappy, for Wildney loved Eric as much as it was possible for his volatile mind to love any one; and it seemed hard to be deserted in the moment of disgrace and sorrow by so close a friend.