“Hush, Percy,” he said, in a broken whisper, “hush, dear, he will be angry with _you_. I daresay I can bear it; it’s only the disgrace I’m thinking of, and that somebody may tell mamma of it, and make her unhappy, perhaps.” And here, despite his efforts, a sob choked his utterance. Ernest caught the import of the whisper, and at the same moment he became aware of a timid and appealing glance from Percy, which Hugh also observing, a new light broke in upon him; for the first time,--believing equally in Ernest’s will and power to assist him,--a hope of deliverance suggested itself to him; and, with a piteous, expressive little face, in which every passing thought and emotion could be read as in an open book, he also fixed his large tearful eyes imploringly upon Ernest’s countenance. And Ernest?--in his own private mind, he had all along considered the Doctor injudiciously severe in regard to Hugh--he had duly estimated the strength of the temptation, and the poor child’s weakness--he had also perceived the depth and sincerity of Hugh’s repentance; and now his promise to do his best to befriend the orphan boys, and the recollection of the fact that he had been the involuntary instrument of Hugh’s detection, recurred to him with a force that was irresistible, and springing from his seat, he said-- “Doctor Donkiestir, I fear the petition I am about to urge may be opposed to the etiquette of the school, but I ask, as a personal favour, that Hugh Colville may not be flogged.” The Doctor’s brow grew dark, but self-restraint in speech had long since become habitual to him. “I believe,” he said, “I believe I have clearly signified my wish that no further attempt to influence me in Hugh Colville’s favour should be made.” “I am aware of your prohibition, sir,” returned Ernest, completely carried away by feeling, “but I have pledged myself to befriend these orphan boys, and I will not fly from my word; I therefore again ask as a personal favour that Hugh Colville shall be let off.” The Doctor’s lips worked convulsively, but by a great exertion of self-control he a second time restrained himself from any outward expression of anger. “I grant your request, Mr. Carrington,” he said gravely, “your position as second master in this school necessitates my doing so. How far your having urged it proves you to be unfitted for that position, is a question which I have yet to consider. Hugh Colville, you may thank Mr. Carrington for your escape from a well-deserved flogging: I hope the narrowness of this escape may impress you for the future, and that, while under my tuition, you may never again merit so severe and disgraceful a punishment. And now let the sixth form come up to me in mathematics.” And so the scene ended. Ernest had redeemed his word, and saved Hugh from a flogging, but at what amount of personal sacrifice remained yet to be proved. CHAPTER XI.--LOSS AND GAIN.