longed for just a moment alone with him, just a moment wherehe could embrace him and rub his back and try to convey how much hecared about his loss, but it wasnt possible. Instead, he took aseat at one of the scarred library tables and watched as Martinjoined the rest of the slaves, who were all doing what they could tocomfort one another.Adamsfriends had not exactly rallied around him; Randy Fox, Maurice Gainesand Walter Addison seemed to be sticking by his side for the timebeing, but Daniel Hollingsworth and Jeremy Blankenship stood somedistance apart from their friends, talking in low voices and dartingglances at Adam and his more stalwart cronies.Allof the boys were subdued, though there was a crackling undercurrentof uneasy excitement, as if all were waiting for something to happen.Theslaves were clearly in mourning. Leaning against Julians side,Martin took off his glasses so he could wipe his eyes. Miles criedwith deep, wrenching jerks, Toms arm around his back. Henry notedwhat the slaves of Adams friends were doing: Walters Harvey hadhis face pressed against Wills neck, his shoulders shaking as hesobbed silently. Randys Howard and Maurices Ollie, togetherwith Ralph, sat on the floor with their arms around each othersbacks, whispering intently. Daniels Allen nestled in againstJulians other side, and Jeremys Raymond sat by himself, head inhands, seeming beyond tears.Henrysfriends were all in agreement: Clearly, Adam was a monster. Asomewhat hostile conversation between Maurice and Louis establishedthat Adams friends believed the fault was with Sam, who wasobviously defective, or why else would he have done such a thing?This opinion was not well-received by Henrys faction, and therewere some ominous rumblings. Fighting seemed possible; it was theleast Adam deserved.I'llbe getting a new one, Adam said in a loud, belligerent voice,unable to keep out of it. Better than any of youhave, that's for damned sure. He narrowed his eyes and sneered atall of them, supporters and detractors alike, and the librarian cameover and shushed him.Theyreturned to their afternoon classes with Henry having had no chanceto express his sympathies to Martin or any of the other slaves. Hewondered all through Mr. Greaves class if it would be all right tosay anything to Peter, or Tom, or any of the others; surely it wasalways all right to express sorrow for anothers loss. He wonderedon this, and on how Martin was faring, well into Dr. Fosters hour,and so was completely unprepared when called upon to conjugatedolere,which he could not conjugate, define, nor even spell.Dolere,Mr. Blackwell, Dr. Foster said, sounding quite disgusted with him.It was given to you as vocabulary last week. It means togrieve.Afterthe final bell, Henry was in a hurry to get to the cloakroom, shovingpast Gordon and Jeremy in his haste. Martin was already in his hatand coat, holding Henrys coat ready.Goodafternoon, Sir, Martin said in a hushed rasp. His eyes were alittle puffy, and the color of the irises was astoundingly beautifulas a result of his tears.Henryached to hold him, but all he could do was say, Martin, Im sosorry. Poor Sam. It shouldnt have happened. He reached forMartins hand, but Martin pulled back, warning