“This inquest has, you will agree, been conducted by me in a strictly impartial and disinterested way, and the proceedings have been conspicuous for the absence of any bias, prejudice, or bigotry.”

“Whew!” whistled several boys.  Stanley let a grin hover in a well-bred way about his lips as he recommenced, the sentence being well-prepared and worth repeating: 

“There has been no bias, prejudice, or bigotry.  Well, gentlemen, is the corpse guilty or not guilty?”

“Guilty, the little beast!”

I went out of that cruel room resolved that “beneath all the bludgeonings of chance my head should be bloody but unbowed.”  I was unconquerable!  I walked along the corridor, blown out with injured virtue—­a King among men.  We assure you, our beloved subjects, we were Rupert Head-in-Air.

Sec.2

I returned to Radley’s class-room and entered jauntily.  All eyes turned and followed me as I walked to the master’s desk.  The excitement experienced by each boy seemed communicated to me.  Radley feigned indifference.

“Well?” said he.

“I’ve come back, sir.”

“Right.  Go and sit down.”

Scarcely had I reached my seat before the bell rang loudly for the Interval.  The boys in their anxiety to hear the latest news flowed out hurriedly.  I lingered apprehensively behind.  At last I summoned up courage to venture into the corridor, where I found a group of boys awaiting me.  Through these I broke at a rush and went and hid.

All that Interval lip tossed to lip such remarks as:  “Ray did it.”  “I say, have you heard Ray’s the culprit?” “What’ll be done to him?” “Oh, the prefects have issued an edict that anyone who holds communication with him will get a Prefects’ Whacking.”  “Ray did it.”  “What? that kid?  Little devil—­it’s good-bye to him, I suppose.”  “What’ll Radley say?  He’s one of his latest bally pets.”  “Ray did it.”

After ten minutes the Second Period began.  As our form went to Herr Reinhardt, the great Mr. Caesar, and he would certainly be late, I dawdled in my hiding-place, not having the courage to face the boys in the corridor.  I waited till I conjectured that Mr. Caesar must be safe in his class-room, and the boys in their desks.  Then I entered his room, famous character as I was, and apologised for being late.  Mr. Caesar wrote my name in the Imposition Book, but, having raised his face and given one look at my swollen, tearful eyes, he deliberately crossed the name out again.  And, indeed, throughout that period he so consistently refused to see that the boys were showing detestation of my degrading presence, and was so inexpressibly gentle in his manner towards me, that now I always think of this weak-eyed German master as a quiet and Christian gentleman.

When school-hours were over I went to a window, and there, leaning on the sill, thought how badly my war was going.  Fillet was winning; he had won when he caned me for asking the number of the sum; he had won when he gave me the thousand lines; and now he was assaulting in mass formation with the whole school as his allies.  Ah, well! as Wellington said at Waterloo—­it depended who could stand this pounding longest, gentlemen.