Jeffreys, wasn't it, Mr Jeffreys ?" said one boy triumphantly.
"He condemned more than--" "Who, Jeffreys ?" What was the use of keeping it up?
"Yes; this wicked judge, Jeffreys, condemned more than three hundred people to death, just because they had helped Monmouth." There was a low whistle of horror, as every eye transfixed the speaker.
"Did he repent ?" asked one.
"It doesn't say so," said the wretched Jeffreys, turning over to the next page in a miserable attempt to appear as if he was not involved in the inquiry.
"How dreadful!" said another.
"Besides this, 849 people were transported." "By Jeffreys, sir ?" "Yes," replied the owner of the name, finally throwing off all disguise and giving himself up to his fate, "by this wicked Jeffreys." "Yes, sir; and what else did he do ?" Trimble, as he looked every now and then down the room, was astonished to notice the quiet which prevailed in the lower class, and the interest with which every boy was listening to the new master.
He did not like it.

He couldn't manage to interest his class, and it didn't please him at all that this casual newcomer should come and cut him out before his face.
After a while he walked down the room and approached the assistant's desk.
He was convinced this, unwonted order could not result from any legitimate cause.
"You don't seem to be doing much work here, I must say," said he.

"Give me the book, Mr Jeffreys: I want to see what they know of the lesson.
Where's the place ?" Jeffreys handed the book, putting his finger on the place.
Trimble glanced through a paragraph or two, and then pointing to a boy, one of the least sharp in the class, said,-- "Now, Walker, what happened after Monmouth's death ?" "Oh, if you please, sir, a cruel judge, called Jeffreys, condemned--" "That will do.

You, Rosher, how many people did he condemn to death ?" "More than three hundred, sir," answered Freddy promptly.
"What for, Bacon ?" "Because they helped Monmouth." Trimble felt perplexed.

He never had a class that answered like this.
He tried once more.
"Pridger, what else did he do ?" "He had 849 transported, sir." Trimble shut the book.