We had just reached “projacting spears,” when Dr. Melling, better known by the name of Limpet, came in, followed by an old woman, who paused on the threshold. Limpet turned round and waved her forward impatiently, but a couple of yards from the door she stopped again, and all the time she stared hard at us with small, sharp, gray eyes. Her bright little eyes and hooked nose, taken with her air of timidity, gave her the appearance of an innocent and frightened witch who has been dragged out of her lair very much against her will. I wondered who she was, but Limpet did not leave us long in doubt. It appeared that some boy had stolen a number of school-books, the property of various other boys, and had sold them to this woman, who was now here to identify him. Limpet explained the situation with an air of wishing to get a disagreeable duty over as quickly as possible, but to us it was quite exciting. Each of us in turn stood up to undergo the witch’s scrutiny. She had already, as I afterwards learned, been round the other classes, and Limpet, who had accompanied her on this voyage of discovery, was by now in rather a bad temper. Evidently he found the whole business singularly distasteful, and as one boy after another received her head-shake, he fidgeted and frowned nervously. She herself looked frightened and bewildered; I expect she was secretly worried about her own share in the matter, and considering how she could make the best of it. As for me, I felt for the first time as if school-life really bore some faint resemblance to the tales of the _Boy’s Own Paper_. Here was one of the pet adventures actually taking place, except that the old woman should have been a man with a small fur cap. When it came to my turn to stand up, I had an extraordinary wish that she would pick me out as the culprit. Sure of my innocence, I had a mind to be the hero of this adventure, and I stood so long, waiting to be identified, that Limpet told me sharply to sit down, and I could see had it on the tip of his tongue to give me an imposition. My neighbour tugged me by the jacket, and I resumed my seat abruptly amid suppressed laughter. One by one each boy rose in his place and sat down again, and then, in the back row of all, a boy stood up who _was_ identified. This boy I did not know except by name, though he was in all my classes. He was called Gill, and I had always looked upon him as rather odd and unapproachable. When his turn came, he stood up indifferently, glancing out through the window at the clock, which could only be seen when you were on your feet. But next moment I saw the old woman say something to Limpet, and the latter instantly told Gill to stand out. Gill stood out, his indifference gone, his face flushed and angry. “Is that the boy?” Limpet asked, as if daring her to say “Yes,” but the old woman mumbled out an affirmative. “Do you know anything of this, Gill?” “No.”