In an instant he started up, and ten or twelve more crusts flew by or hit him on the head, as he strode out of the desk towards the door.  Directly he stirred, there was a rush of boys into the passage, and if he had once lost his judgment or temper, worse harm might have followed.  But he did not.  Going to the door, he said, “Preparation will be in five minutes; every boy not then in his place will be punished.”

During that five minutes the servants had cleared away the tea, full of wonder; but Mr. Rose paced up and down the room, taking no notice of any one.  Immediately after, all the boys were in their places, with their books open before them, and in the thrilling silence you might have heard a pin drop.  Every one felt that Mr. Rose was master of the occasion, and awaited his next step in terrified suspense.

They all perceived how thoroughly they had mistaken their subject.  The ringleaders would have given all they had to be well out of the scrape.  Mr. Rose ruled by kindness, but he never suffered his will to be disputed for an instant.  He governed with such consummate tact, that they hardly felt it to be government at all, and hence arose their stupid miscalculation.  But he felt that the time was now come to assert his paramount authority, and determined to do so at once and for ever.

“Some of you have mistaken me,” he said, in a voice so strong and stern that it almost startled them.  “The silly display of passion in one boy yesterday has led you to presume that you may trifle with me.  You are wrong.  For Williams’ sake, as a boy who has, or at least once had, something noble in him, I left that matter in the Doctor’s hands.  I shall not do so to-night.  Which of you put out the candles?”

Dead silence.  A pause.

“Which of you had the audacity to throw pieces of bread at me?”

Still silence.

“I warn you that I will know, and it will be far worse for the guilty if I do not know at once.”  There was unmistakeable decision in the tone.

“Very well.  I know many boys who were not guilty because I saw them in parts of the room where to throw was impossible.  I shall now ask all the rest, one by one, if they took any part in this.  And beware of telling me a lie.”

There was an uneasy sensation in the room, and several boys began to whisper aloud, “Brigson!  Brigson!” The whisper grew louder, and Mr. Rose heard it.  He turned on Brigson like a lion, and said—­

“They call your name; stand out!”

The awkward, big, ungainly boy, with his repulsive countenance, shambled out of his place into the middle of the room.  Mr. Rose swept him with one flashing glance. “That is the boy,” thought he to himself, “who has been like an ulcer to this school.  These boys shall have a good look at their hero.”  It was but recently that Mr. Rose knew all the harm which Brigson had been doing, though he had discovered, almost from the first, what sort of character he had.