"Go away now," was Wraysford's only answer. But this did not suit Stephen, his blood was up, and he meant to have it out. "Surely _you_ don't believe it?" he repeated, disregarding the impatience of the other; "_you_ aren't a blackguard, like the rest?" "Do you hear what I tell you?" said Wraysford. "No, and I don't mean to!" retorted the irate Stephen. "If you were anything of a friend you'd stand up for Oliver. You're a beast, Wraysford, that's what you are!" continued he, in a passion. "You're a blackguard! you're a liar! I could kill you!" And the poor boy, wild with rage and misery, actually flung himself blindly upon his brother's old friend--the saviour of his own life. Wraysford was not angry. There was more of pity in his face than anger as he took the small boy by the arm and led him to the door. Stephen no longer resisted. After giving vent to the first flood of his anger, misery got the upper hand of him, and he longed to go anywhere to hide it. He could have endured to know that Oliver was suspected by a good many of the fellows, but to find Wraysford among them was a cruel blow. But in due time his indignation again came to the fore, and he ventured on another crusade. This time it was to Pembury. He knew before he went he had little enough to expect from the sharp-tongued editor of the _Dominican_, so he went hoping little. To his surprise, however, Pembury was kinder than usual. He told him plainly that he did suspect Oliver, and explained why, and advised Stephen, if he were wise, to say as little about Oliver as possible at present. The young champion was quite cowed by this unexpected reception. He did his best to fly in a rage and be defiant, but it was no use, and he retired woefully discomfited from the interview. Others to whom he applied, when once again his anger got the better of his wretchedness, met him with taunts, others with contempt, others with positive unkindness; and after a week Stephen gave it up and retired in dudgeon to the territory of the Guinea-pigs and Tadpoles, determined that there at least he would, at the edge of the knuckle, if needs be, compel a faction to declare for his brother.