But another glance changed that intention, if intention it had been.
His face fell, and he walked past with averted eyes, apparently recognising neither boy, and paying no heed to Wyndham's feebly attempted salute.
Before he was out of hearing Silk broke into a loud laugh.

"Upon my word, it's as good as a play!" cried he.

"You did it splendidly, young 'un! Looked as guilty as a dog, every bit! He'll give you up for lost now, with a vengeance!" Wyndham's misery would have moved the pity of any one but Silk.

The new hopes which had risen within him had been cruelly dashed by this unhappy accident, and he felt no further care as to what happened to him.
Riddell would have lost all faith in him now; he would appear little better than an ungrateful hypocrite and impostor.

The last motive for sparing him would be swept away, and--so the boy thought--the duty of reporting him would now become a satisfaction.
He tore himself from the seat, and exclaimed, "Let me go, you brute!" Silk looked at him in astonishment; then, relapsing into a smile, said, "Oh, indeed! a brute, am I ?" "Yes, you are!" "And, let's see; I forget what the little favour was you wanted the brute to do for you ?" "I want you to do _no_ favour!" cried Wyndham, passionately.
"No?
Not even to allow you to go to the doctor and tell him about Beamish's ?" "No; not even that! I wouldn't do it now.