How Harry longed to pour his story out to her, of Egerton and Mr Prichard. But he wouldn't do so now. He would bear it by himself. He had run home so quickly, meaning to tell her all, and knowing she would believe and pity him, and tell him what to do. But how could he distress her now? So he only answered very quietly-- "I did the paper pretty well, mamma; I think; the examiner doesn't come for two or three days; but--but--you won't be here--then," and back came the memory of the fateful message, back came the fears at the thought that he would be alone in the world then. "How hot the room is," sighed Mrs Campbell. "It makes me feel so weak." "Ah! the air isn't like it was at Malta; is it, mamma? You told me it was so cool and sweet there; didn't you, mamma?" "Yes, dear boy; but those cool winds have made me like this. It was sitting out, in the evenings there, that first gave me my cough. But it was God's will," she said half to herself, "and why should one look to second causes?" "Go and have your dinner, Harry dear or you will be late for school," she said to him. "Must I go to school, mamma, and leave you?" "Yes, dear," she answered, "it is far better for you to go, as usual. They shall send for you if--if-- Go down now, dear," she added, falteringly. And when Harry hesitatingly left the room, Mrs Campbell turned her face to the wall, and prayed to God, to guard the motherless child; to guard the toilers on the sea; and then she thought of her girlhood, of her bright, strong, healthy days; and then of her marriage in the ominous Scotch mists, of the sojourning at Malta, of the journeyings to and fro; and chiefly of her husband's love, and of her happy life; and from the depths of her heart she thanked God for it all, and confessed that it had indeed "been well." CHAPTER VI. INJURED INNOCENCE. A surprise--Public opinion--Questioned--Circumstantial evidence--Inexorable. With a heavy heart Harry set out for school; but it was a walk of a mile, and his spirits were very elastic; so that by the time he had settled to his afternoon's work, all his old interest and excitement in the examination had returned. Again the class sat writing in their corner-classroom, with busy fingers and hushed voices. At half-past four Mr Prichard rose, contrary to his ordinary custom, to collect the papers. Harry had just opened his desk hastily for some blotting paper, and as he took the piece from its wonted corner, what was his astonishment to see Egerton's crib lying there. As he was making assurance doubly sure, that it really was the delectus-crib, he felt a hand on his shoulder, and starting suddenly, found Mr Prichard standing, looking over him into his desk. "Give me your paper, Campbell," said Mr Prichard; "and that book!" he added, sternly.