The boys' hearts were throbbing violently as Mr. Lloyd rang the bell. The door was opened readily by a boy, who was glad of the excuse to leave his seat, and he entered the schoolroom, followed by his charges. The room was long, narrow, and low-ceilinged, and was divided into two unequal portions by a great chimney, on either side of which a passage had been left. At the farther end, occupying the central space between two windows, was the doctor's desk, or throne it might more properly be called; for never did autocrat wield more unquestioned authority over his subjects than did Dr. Johnston over the hundred and odd scholars who composed his school. In front of him, running down the centre of the room, and on either hand, following the walls, were long lines of desks, at which sat boys of all sorts, and of all ages, from ten to eighteen. As Mr. Lloyd entered, those nearest the door looked up, and seeing the new-comers, proceeded to stare at them with a frank curiosity that made Bert feel as though he would like to hide in one of his father's coat-tail pockets.
They turned away pretty quickly, however, when Dr. Johnston, leaving his desk, came down to meet Mr. Lloyd, and as he passed between the lines, every head was bent as busily over the book or slate before it, as though its attention had never been distracted.
Considering that Dr. Johnston was really a small, slight man, it was surprising what an idea of stately dignity his appearance conveyed. He could hardly have impressed Bert with a deeper feeling of respect from the outset, if he had been seven feet high, instead of only a little more than five. He was a clergyman of the Episcopal Church, and wore at all times a long black gown, reaching nearly to his ankles, which set off to the best advantage the spare, straight figure, and strong dark face. The habitual expression of that face when in repose was of thoughtful severity, and yet if one did but scan it closely enough, the stern mouth was seen to have a downward turn at its corners that hinted at a vein of humour lying hid somewhere. The hint was well-sustained, for underneath all his sternness and severity the doctor concealed a playful humour, that at times came to the surface, and gratefully relieved his ordinary grimness.