The next witness called was Roland Carr Lewis, who had just come into court, marshalled by the second master. A messenger, attended by a javelin man, had been despatched in hot haste to the college schoolroom, demanding the attendance of Roland Lewis. Mr. Roberts, confounded by their appearance, and perplexed by the obscure tale of the messenger, that "two of the college gentlemen, Lewis and another, was found to have had som'at to do with the theft from the register, though not, he b'lieved, in the way of thieving it theirselves," left his desk and his duties, and accompanied Lewis. The head master had been in court all the morning. "You are in the college school," said Serjeant Wrangle, after Lewis was sworn, and had given his name. "King's scholar, sir, and third senior," replied Lewis, who could scarcely speak for fright; which was not lessened when he caught sight of the Dean of Westerbury on the bench, next the judge. "Did you shut up a companion, Henry Cheveley Arkell, in the church of St. James the Less, one afternoon last November, when he had gone in to practise on the organ?" Lewis wiped his face, and tried to calm his breathing, and glared fearfully towards the bench, but never spoke. "You have been sworn to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, sir, and you must do so," said the judge, staring at his ugly face, through his glasses. "Answer the question." "Y--es." "What was your motive for doing so?" asked Serjeant Wrangle. "It was only done in fun. I didn't mean to hurt him." "Pretty fun!" ejaculated one of the jury, who had a timid boy of his own in the college school, and thought how horrible might be the consequences should he get locked up in St. James's Church. "How long did you leave him there?" "I don't know. I took back the key to the clerk's, and the next morning, when we went to let him out, he was gone." "Who is 'we?' Who was with you?" cried Serjeant Wrangle, catching at the word. "Mr. George Prattleton. He was at the clerk's in the morning, and I told him about it, and asked him to get the key, for Hunt would not let me have it. So he was coming with me to open the church; but Hunt happened to say that Arkell had just been to his house. He had got out somehow." When this witness, after a good deal of badgering, was released, Serjeant Siftem, a bright thought having occurred to him, desired that the Reverend Mr. Wilberforce might get into the witness-box. The Reverend Mr. Wilberforce did so; and the serjeant began, in an insinuating tone: "The witness, Henry Cheveley Arkell, is under your tuition in the collegiate school, I assume?" "He is," sternly replied Mr. Wilberforce, who had not forgotten Serjeant Siftem's insult of the previous day. "Would you believe him on his oath?" "On his oath, or without it." "Oh, you would, would you?" retorted the Serjeant. "Schoolboys are addicted to romancing, though." "Henry Arkell is of strict integrity. His word may be implicitly trusted."