"
What would have been the result is doubtful, for at this moment
the sixth-form boy came in, and not another word could be said.
Tom and the rest rushed into bed and finished their unrobing
there, and the old janitor had put out the candle in another
minute, and toddled on to the next room, shutting the door with
his usual, "Good night, gen'l'm'n."
There were many boys in the room by whom that little scene was
taken to heart before they slept. But sleep seemed to have
deserted the pillow of poor Tom. For some time his excitement and
the flood of memories which chased one another through his
brain, kept him from thinking or resolving. His head throbbed,
his heart leapt, and he could hardly keep himself from springing
out of bed and rushing about the room.
Then the thought of his own mother came across him, and the
promise he had made at her knee, years ago, never to forget to
kneel by his bedside and give himself up to his Father before he
laid his head on the pillow, from which it might never rise;
and he lay down gently, and cried as if his heart would break.
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