There was nobody there.
'What does this mean ?' said Squeers, turning round with a very pale face.

'Where have you hid him ?' 'I have seen nothing of him since last night,' replied Nicholas.
'Come,' said Squeers, evidently frightened, though he endeavoured to look otherwise, 'you won't save him this way.

Where is he ?' 'At the bottom of the nearest pond for aught I know,' rejoined Nicholas in a low voice, and fixing his eyes full on the master's face.
'Damn you, what do you mean by that ?' retorted Squeers in great perturbation.

Without waiting for a reply, he inquired of the boys whether any one among them knew anything of their missing schoolmate.
There was a general hum of anxious denial, in the midst of which, one shrill voice was heard to say (as, indeed, everybody thought): 'Please, sir, I think Smike's run away, sir.' 'Ha!' cried Squeers, turning sharp round.

'Who said that ?' 'Tomkins, please sir,' rejoined a chorus of voices.