Louis felt very sorry for him, and almost ashamed on his own account.

He wished he could get behind his master, but that was impossible, and he stood still, as the doctor continued, "Three weeks ago Louis discovered that a little boy was in the study on the day when Kenrick's Key was abstracted, who could, of course, bring the desired information--the information which would have righted him in all our eyes; but mark--you who are ready to revenge injuries--because this would have involved the expulsion of one who had deeply injured him, he has never, by sign or word, made known to any one the existence of such information, persuading the little boy also to keep the secret; and this, which from him I should never have learned, I have just heard from the guilty person, who, unable to bear the remorse of his own mind, has voluntarily confessed his sin and Louis' estimable conduct.

Young gentlemen, I would say to all of you, 'GO AND DO LIKEWISE.'" During this speech, Reginald had hardly been able to control himself, especially when he found that Louis had never mentioned his knowledge to himself; and now he sprang forward, unchecked by the doctor, and, seizing his brother, who was immediately released, asked, "Why did you not tell me, Louis?
How was it I never guessed ?" While he spoke, there was a buz of inquiry at the lower end of the school, and those who knew the story crowded eagerly up to the dais to speak to Louis.

Alfred's voice was very distinct, for he had worked himself up to his brother: "Edward, tell me all about it.

I'm sure if I'd known I'd have told.
I didn't know why Louis was so joyful." Edward could answer nothing: his heart was as full as the doctor's, and with almost overflowing eyes and a trembling step, he pushed his way to Louis, who had thrown himself on Reginald and was sobbing violently.
"Louis, I'm very sorry," said one.