"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.
"D—n you, what do you mean by that?" retorted Squeers in great perturbation. And 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. Mr. Squeers made a plunge into the crowd, and at one dive caught a very little boy habited still in his night gear, and the perplexed expression of whose countenance as he was brought forward, seemed to intimate that he was as yet uncertain whether he was about to be punished or rewarded for the suggestion. He was not long in doubt.
"You think he has run away, do you, Sir?" demanded Squeers.
"Yes, please Sir," replied the little boy.
"And what, Sir," said Squeers, catching the little boy suddenly by the arms and whisking up his drapery in a most dexterous manner, "what reason have you to suppose that any boy would want to run away from this establishment? Eh, Sir?"
The child raised a dismal cry by way of answer, and Mr. Squeers, throwing himself into the most favourable attitude for exercising his strength, beat him till the little urchin in his writhings actually rolled out of his hands, when he mercifully allowed him to roll away as he best could.
"There," said Squeers. "Now if any other boy thinks Smike has run away, I shall be glad to have a talk with him."
There was of course a profound silence, during which, Nicholas showed his disgust as plainly as looks could show it.
"Well, Nickleby," said Squeers, eyeing him maliciously. "You think he has run away, I suppose?"
"I think it extremely likely," replied Nicholas, in a very quiet manner.
"Oh, you do, do you ?" sneered Squeers. "Maybe you know he has?"
"I know nothing of the kind."
"He did'nt tell you he was going, I suppose, did he?" sneered Squeers.
"He did not," replied Nicholas; "I am very glad he did not, for it would then have been my duty to have warned you in time."
"Which no doubt you would have been devilish sorry to do," said Squeers in a taunting fashion.
"I should, indeed," replied Nicholas. "You interpret my feelings with great accuracy."
