"A cursory visit," said the Doctor, "a formal inspection--you cannot fairly judge boys by that. They will naturally be reserved and constrained in the presence of an elder. But you should observe them without their knowledge--you want to know them, my dear Mr. Bultitude, you want to go among them!" It was the very last thing Paul did want--he knew them quite well enough, but it was of no use to say so, and he merely assented politely. "And now," said the Doctor, "with regard to your misguided boy. I have to tell you that he is here, in this very house. I tracked him here, and, ten minutes ago, saw him with my own eyes at one of your windows. "Here!" cried Paul, with a well-executed start; "you astonish me!" "It has occurred to me within the last minute," said the Doctor, "that there may be a very simple explanation of his flight. I observe you are giving a--a juvenile entertainment on a large scale." "I suppose I am," Paul admitted. "And so you think----?" "I think that your son, who doubtless knew of your intention, was hurt at being excluded from the festivities and, in a fit of mad wilful folly, resolved to be present at them in spite of you." "My dear Doctor," cried Paul, who saw the conveniences of this theory, "that must be it, of course--that explains it all!" "So grave an act of insubordination," said the Doctor, "an act of double disobedience--to your authority and mine--deserves the fullest punishment. You agree with me, I trust?" The memory of his wrongs overcame Mr. Bultitude for the moment: "Nothing can be too bad for the little scoundrel!" he said, between his teeth. "He shall have it, sir, I swear to you; he shall be made to repent this as long as he lives. This insult to me (and of course to you also) shall be amply atoned for. If you will have the goodness to deliver him over to my hands, I will carry him back at once to Market Rodwell, and to-morrow, sir, to-morrow, I will endeavour to awaken his conscience in a way he will remember!" The Doctor was more angry than an impartial lover of justice might perhaps approve of, but then it must be remembered that he had seen himself completely outwitted and his authority set at nought in a very humiliating fashion. However, his excessive wrath cooled Paul's own resentment instead of inflaming it; it made him reflect that, after all, it was he who had the best right to be angry. "Well," he said, rather coldly, "we must find him first, and then consider what shall be done to him. If you will allow me I will ring and----" But before he could lay his hand upon the bell the library door opened, and Uncle Marmaduke made his appearance, dragging with him the unwilling Dick: the unfortunate boy was effectually sobered now, pale and trembling and besmirched with coal-dust--in fact, in very much the same plight as his ill-used father had been in only three hours ago.