"Suppose you explain yourself," retorted Trace, terribly vexed at being thus publicly called upon. "It is not my business," said Bertie. "You know, you all know, I have not joined the cabal." "Let Paradyne take himself off, and have done with it," roared a voice: and a Babel of tongues followed, each one taking the explanation on itself. The late Mr. Paradyne was called everything but a gentleman, some of the names being remarkably choice. George, with flashing eyes and earnestly indignant words, denied the truth of the charges, and stood up as bravely (morally) for his father, as he did physically for himself. He kept his place and defied the lot, Bertie protecting him. "Wasn't he a sneak? Wasn't he a swindler? Didn't he go in for everything that was low and bad and dishonest, and then poison himself?" roared the malcontents, hustling and jostling each other. "No; he was neither a sneak nor a swindler; he went in for nothing that was bad, and he did not poison himself," retorted George. "Look here—you, Lamb—when you were accused of firing off the pistol that shot the earl, were you not innocent?" "Of course I was innocent," roared Lamb. "But your innocence did not prevent your being accused. When that straw man was set ablaze to frighten Mother Butter, I had nothing to do with it, as you are all aware, I did not even know of it, but Baker accused me, and gave me the cane. Well, it was just so with my father. He was accused, being perfectly innocent, and before the proofs of his innocence could be brought forth, before almost he had time to deny it, before he well understood what the charge was, he died: the excitement killed him. Loftus—and I thank you for standing by me now, and I know you have never worked against me as some of the rest have—I told your father this in Boulogne, and I think he grew to believe me. If you have anything to bring against me, you fellows, bring it; but you shall not traduce my father. What have _you_ to say, Trace?" "I am sorry you force me to speak, Paradyne," returned Trace, his quiet voice, civil still, rising above the hubbub. "I say that your father _was_ guilty, and that you had no right to come here amidst honest men's sons. We have put up with the companionship; the Head Master forced us to it; and have kept your secret from the rest; and should have kept it to the end but for your attempting to go up for the Orville. It was pure audacity, that, and you were exceedingly ill-advised to think of it. No fellow whose father had dirty hands——"