at sight of the master. On holidays--and this was one--it was not usual
for the masters to enter the school after service. The school was
founded by royal charter--its number limited to forty boys, who were
called king's scholars, ten of whom, those whose voices were the best,
were chosen choristers. The master marched to his desk, and made a sign
for the boys to approach, addressing himself to the senior boy.

"Gaunt, some mischief has been done in the vestry, touching Bywater's
surplice. Do you know anything of it?"

"No, sir," was the prompt answer. And Gaunt was one who scorned to tell
a lie.

The master ranged his eyes round the circle. "Who does?"

There was no reply. The boys looked at one another, a sort of stolid
surprise for the most part predominating. Mr. Pye resumed:

"Bywater tells me that he left his clean surplice in the vestry this
morning. This afternoon it was found thrown behind the screen, tumbled
together, beyond all doubt purposely, and partially covered with ink. I
ask, who has done this?"

"I have not, sir," burst forth from most of the boys simultaneously.
The seniors, of whom there were three besides Gaunt, remained silent.
But this was nothing unusual; for the seniors, unless expressly
questioned or taxed with a fault, did not accustom themselves to a
voluntary denial.

"I can only think this has been the result of accident," continued the