The Adventures of a Three-Guinea Watch

By Talbot Baines Reed________________________________________________________________________This is really a most unusual book. Told, we must imagine, by thewatch, we are led through the owner's days at a boys' boarding school, to being stolen, pawned, auctioned, taken to quite another small town, given to a brilliant local boy when he left for Cambridge, lost in afield, found, and through further adventures being taken to India tofight in a battle near Lucknow, finally making its way into the pocketof its original owner, whose life was saved by the watch havingdeflected a bullet. 

It's well-told, too, and not too long, at under ten hours. 

The copy we worked from was very browned, and it was not too easy to dothe transcription, but we have done our best: if you find anythingobviously wrong, don't hesitate to tell us about it. NH. ________________________________________________________________________THE ADVENTURES OF A THREE-GUINEA WATCH

BY TALBOT BAINES REED

CHAPTER ONE. 

MY INFANCY AND EDUCATION--HOW I WAS SOLD AND WHO BOUGHT ME. 

"Then you can guarantee it to be a good one to go?"

"You couldn't have a better, sir. "

"And it will stand a little roughish wear, you think?"

"I'm sure of it, sir; it's an uncommon strong watch. "

"Then I'll take it. "

These few sentences determined my destiny, and from that moment mycareer may be said to have begun. 

I am old, and run down, and good for nothing now; but many a time do Ifind my thoughts wandering back to this far-off day; and remembering allthat has befallen me since that eventful moment, I humbly hope my lifehas not been one to disgrace the good character with which I went outinto the world. 

I was young at the time, very young--scarcely a month old. Watcheshowever, as every one knows, are a good deal more precocious in theirinfancy than human beings. They generally settle down to business assoon as they are born, without having to spend much of their time eitherin the nursery or the schoolroom. 

Indeed, after my face and hands had once been well cleaned, and a brand-new shiny coat had been put on my back, it was years before I foundmyself again called upon to submit to that operation which is such aterror to all mortal children. 

As to my education, it lasted just a week; and although I am bound tosay, while it lasted, it was both carefully and skilfully managed, I didnot at all fancy the discipline I was subjected to in the process. Iused to be handed over to a creature who took me up and examined me (asif he were a policeman and a magistrate combined), and according as Ianswered his questions he exclaimed, "You're going too fast, " or "You'regoing too slow, " and with that he set himself to "regulate" me, as hecalled it. I was ordered to turn round, take off my coat, and submit mypoor shoulders to his instrument of correction. But why need I describethis experience to boys? They know what "regulating" means as well as Ido!

Well in due time I profited by the instructions received, and one day mytutor, after the usual examination, grumpily told me, "You're right atlast; you can go. " And I did go, and I've been going ever since. 

The troubles of my infancy however were not all over. I discovered at avery early age that the one thing a watch is never allowed to do is togo to sleep. They'd as soon think of leaving an infant to starve as ofletting a watch go to sleep. 

But to my story. Ever since I had left school--or, in other words, gonethrough my due course of regulation--I had remained shut up under aglass-case, lying comfortably upon a bed of purple velvet, and decoratedwith a little white label bearing the mysterious inscription, "OnlyThree Guineas. " From this stately repose I was only once a daydisturbed in order to be kept from sleeping, and had all the rest of mytime to look about me and observe what went on in the world in which Ifound myself. 

It was not a big world indeed, but I could see I was not the onlyinhabitant. All around me were watches like myself, some of a goldencomplexion, and some--of which I was one--of a silvery. Some were big, and made an awful noise, and some were tiny, and just whispered whatthey had to say. Some were very proud, and showed off their jewels andchains in a way which made me blush for the vanity of my fellow-creatures--"dear" watches, the ladies called these, and others were asplain as plain could be. 

Every now and then our case would be opened, and one of my neighbourstaken out and never put back. Then we knew he had been sold, and we whowere left spent our time in gossiping about what had become of him, andspeculating whose turn would come next. A gold repeater near me wasvery confident the turn would be his, and so impressed us with the senseof his "striking" importance and claims, that when the next time ourglass house was entered, and a hand came groping in our direction, I atonce concluded it was his summons into publicity and honour. Imagine myastonishment, then, when the hand, instead of reaching my goldneighbour, took hold of me and cautiously drew me out of the case! Myheart leaped to my mouth--or whatever part of a watch's anatomycorresponds with that organ--and I was ready to faint with excitement. I had always imagined I was to lie in that case for years, but now, whenI was barely a month old, here was I going out into the world. 

It made me quite bashful to listen to all the flattering things mymaster said of me. I was worth twice the price he was selling me at, hesaid; in fact, if trade had been good he would not have parted with meunder three times that price. It was a relief to think the repeatercould not overhear this, or he would have sneered in a way to extinguishme altogether. As it was, no other watch was by, so that I was not verymuch embarrassed. 

After turning me over, and feeling my pulse, and listening to thebeating of my heart, and taking off my coat and waistcoat to inspect mymuscle, my master's customer at last laid me down on the counter andpronounced the sentences with which I have begun my story. 

"Then I'll take it, " he said, and pulled out his purse. "Stop a bit, though!" exclaimed he; "I'd better have a chain too, my little chap willthink more of that than the watch. Let me see some silver chains, willyou?"

So my master went and fetched a tray containing a large number oftempting-looking chains. 

While he was gone my new owner took me up again in his hand and turnedme over and put me to his ear; then as he laid me down again he smiledto himself and murmured. 

"Bless his little heart! how proud he'll be!"

I was quite taken aback. Who was this taking upon himself to bless mylittle heart and prophesy that I should be proud? Then all of a suddenit occurred to me this remark may have been intended to refer not to me, but to the "little chap" the gentleman had just now spoken of. So Irecovered my composure, especially when I saw what a kind, gentle facemy purchaser had. 

He chose a neat, strong silver chain which was forthwith, in accordancewith the barbarous practice of the age, fixed to my poor neck. I couldnot help sighing as I felt for the first time the burden of bondage. 

What had I done to be thus chained like a Roman captive, like a dog, like a parrot? But it was no use being in a rage. I swallowed myindignation as well as I could, and consoled myself with the reflectionthat every watch, even gold repeaters themselves, are subject to thesame hardship. 

Ah! I was young then, and my knowledge of the world was small. Many atime since I have blessed the chain that held me, just as the ship, could it speak, would bless the cable that saved it from the rocks. Take the advice of an old ticker, you young watches, and instead ofrebelling against your chains, rather hope they may be strong and soundin every link!

"That will be just five pounds, won't it?" said my purchaser. "Here isa bank note. Never mind about doing it up, I'll just slip it into mypocket. Good-morning. "

And with that I was conscious of being lowered into a dark, deep pit, and without time to bid my comrades good-bye, or to take a last look atmy old master, I felt myself hurried away I knew not whither. 

This, then, was my first step into the world. 

I lay untouched and apparently forgotten for several hours. Graduallygetting my eyes accustomed to the darkness, and looking about me as faras I was able, I heard a ticking going on in a pocket not very far fromthe one I was in, which I at once concluded to proceed from the watch ofmy new master. Thinking I might be able to gain some information fromhim, I groped about till I found a small hole in my lodgings throughwhich I was able to peep, and call. 

"Tick!" said I, as loud as I could, to secure the attention of myfellow-watch. 

"Who's that?" at once exclaimed the other. 

"I'm a new watch, bought to-day. "

"Humph! How much?"

"Three guineas. "

"Chain and all?"

"No; five pounds with the chain. "

"Humph, I cost thirty guineas. Never mind, you're for the boy. "

"What boy?"

"The governor's. I heard him say he was going to get him one. That boywill be spoiled, as sure as I go on springs; he's made such a lot of. Have you been regulated?"

"I should think I have!" exclaimed I, in indignant recollection of myeducation. 

"All right; keep your temper. What time are you?"

"Seven minutes to six. "

"Wrong! It's seven and three-quarters!"

"How do you know?"

"Because that's what I make it. "

"How do you know you are right?" I asked, wondering at my own impudencein thus questioning an old ticker. 

"Look here, young fellow, " said the other in an awful voice; "you don'tseem to know you are addressing a gold watch that has neither gained norlost a minute for five years! There! You may think yourself clever;but you're too fast. "

"I'm sure I beg your--"

"That'll do!" said the offended veteran. "I want no more words. "

I was completely shut up at this, and retired back to my pocket verycrestfallen. 

Presently I began to feel drowsy; my nerves seemed to get unstrung, andmy circulation flagged. It was long after the time I had generally beenin the habit of being wound up; and I began to be afraid I was reallygoing to be left to go to sleep. That, by this time, I knew would benothing short of a calamity. I therefore gave a slight tug at my chain. 

"What's the matter?" it said, looking down. 

"I've not been wound up. "

"I can't help that, " said the chain. 

"Can't you let him know somehow?" I gasped, faintly. 

"How can I? He's busy packing up books. "

"Couldn't you catch yourself in his fingers or something? I'm in a badway. "

"I'll see, " said the chain. 

Presently I felt an awful tug at my neck, and I knew the chain hadmanaged to entangle itself somehow with his fingers. 

"Hullo!" I heard my master exclaim, "I mustn't smash Charlie's chainbefore I give it to him. I'd better put it and the watch away in mydrawer till the morning. Heigho! it'll be a sad day for me to-morrow!"

As he spoke he drew me from the pocket, and, disengaging the chain fromhis button-hole, he laid us both in a drawer and shut it up. I was indespair, and already was nearly swooning from weakness. 

He had shut the drawer, and his hand was still on the knob, when all ofa sudden he exclaimed, --

"By the way, I must wind it up, or it'll stop!"

With what joy and relief I saw the drawer again opened, and felt myselftaken out and wound up! Instantly new life seemed to infuse itselfthrough my frame; my circulation revived, my nerves were strung again, and my drooping heart resumed its usual healthy throb. Little did mymaster think of the difference this winding up made to my health andcomfort. 

"Now you're happy!" said the chain, as we found ourselves once more inthe drawer. 

"Yes; I'm all right now, I'm glad to say, " said I. "What's going tohappen to us to-morrow?" I asked presently. 

"We're going to be given to the boy, and he's going to school;" so thesilver chain told me. "Nice time we shall have of it, I expect. "

After that he went to sleep, and I fell to counting the seconds, andwondering what sort of life I was destined to lead. 

About an hour after I heard two voices talking in the room. 

"Well, " said one, and I recognised it at once as my master's, "thepacking's all finished at last. "

"Ah, Charles, " said the other, and it seemed to be a woman's voicespeaking amid tears, "I never thought it would be so hard to part withhim. "

"Tut, tut!" said the first, "you mustn't give way, Mary. You women areso ready to break down. He'll soon be back;" but before my master hadgot to the end of his sentence he too had broken down. 

For a long time they talked about their boy, their fine boy who hadnever before left his parents' roof, and was about now to step out intothe treacherous world. How they trembled for him, yet how proudly andconfidently they spoke of his prospects; how lovingly they recalled alltheir life together, from the days when he could first toddle about, down to the present. 

Many tears were mingled with their talk, and many a smothered sobbespoke a desperate effort to subdue their common sorrow. At last theybecame quieter, then I heard my master say, --

"I positively have never shown you the watch I got for him, " and withthat he opened the drawer and produced me. 

"Oh, Charles, " cried the mother, "how delighted he will be, and what acapital watch it is!"

And she looked at me affectionately for a long time, for her son's sake, smiling through her tears, and then put me back. 

Need I say that as these two knelt together that night, their only sonwas not forgotten in their prayers?

So ended the first day of my adventures. 

CHAPTER TWO. 

HOW I WAS PRESENTED TO A BOY, AND OF A CERTAIN JOURNEY WE TOOK TOGETHER. 

Very early next morning, when my hands scarcely pointed to five o'clock, the little household was astir. There was a noise of hurried going andcoming, and of trunks being carried down stairs, and for the first timeI heard mingled with the sedate voices of my master and his wife, another voice, cheery and musical, which I at once guessed to belong tomy future lord and master. 

It was not till after this bustle had been going on for a good whilethat I was taken out of the drawer and put back into the pocket in whichI had spent so many anxious hours the day before. But here I wasdestined not to remain long, as will be seen. 

Breakfast was a sad meal to that little family. Even the gay, high-spirited boy was sobered in anticipation of the coming parting, and asto his parents, they dared not open their lips for fear of breakingdown. 

Then there was a rumbling of wheels in the street, and a banging aboutof boxes at the hall door; then a last long embrace between mother andson. She no longer resisted her grief, and he for the time forgoteverything but her he was leaving; then father and son stepped into thecab and drove away. 

I felt the father's heart beating quicker and his chest heaving deeperas we proceeded. Presently his hand stole to the pocket where I layhid, and he said--

"Charlie, boy, I've said all I have to say to you. You will rememberour talk last night, I am sure, and I shall remember it too. I have nogreater wish than to see my boy brave and honest and true to himself. Remember always I am your father, and never hesitate to tell me wheneveryou are in trouble, or danger, or--and I hope this won't often be--indisgrace. See here, " said he, drawing me forth, "this is a watch whichyour mother and I have got for you. Think of us when you use it; andmind this, Charlie, make the best use of time, or time will become yourenemy. "

The poor man faltered out these words with a half-broken heart, as hehanded me to his son. 

The boy's eyes brightened and his face became radiant at the sight ofhis unexpected treasure. What boy does not covet a watch of his own atsome time or other?

"Oh, father!" he cried, "how good and kind of you! What a beauty!"

The father smiled to see his son's delight, and helped to fasten thechain to his button-hole. 

"You and mother are bricks!" exclaimed Charlie, feasting his eyes uponme, and half wild with delight. "How _did_ you know I was longing tohave one?"

"Were you?" inquired the father. 

"Of course I was, and you knew it. What a swell I shall be! And itwill always be sure to remind me of home. "

While this talk was going on I had leisure to examine my new owner. Picture to yourselves a curly-haired, bright-eyed boy of thirteen withhonest, open face, good features, and winning smile. He is big for hisage, and strongly built. At present his form is arrayed in a brand-newsuit of grey; his collar is new and his tie is new, his boots are newand his socks are new; everything is new about him, down to the veryguard of his hat, and he himself is the newest and purest of all. Wasever such a radiant young hero turned loose into the world?

And now, over and above his other glories, he had me to crown all. Thegraceful curve of my chain on his waistcoat gave that garment quite adistinguished appearance, and the consciousness of a silver watch in hispocket made him hold his head even higher than usual. 

"He is a beauty!" again he broke out, "exactly the kind I like most. I'll take ever such a lot of care of him. " And so saying, he began toswing me at the end of the chain, till I suddenly came sharply intocollision with the door of the cab. 

"Hullo, " exclaimed my young master, "that won't do. I'll put him awaynow. It _was_ good of you, father. "

With that we reached the railway station, and in the bustle that ensuedI was for the time forgotten. 

Charlie's trunks were duly labelled for Randlebury, and then came thehardest moment of all, when father and son must part. 

"I wonder if you'll be altered, Charlie, when I see you again. "

"Not for the worse I hope, anyhow, " replied the boy, laughing. 

"Tickets, please!" demanded the guard. 

"There goes the bell, " said Charlie, pulling me out of his pocket. "They're very punctual. Hullo, we're off! Good-bye, father. "

"Good-bye, boy, and God bless you. "

And there was a close grasp of the hand, a last smile, a hasty wave fromthe window; and then we were off. 

How many grown-up men are there who cannot recall at some time or otherthis crisis in their lives, this first good-bye from the home of theirchildhood, this stepping forth into the world with all that is familiarand dear at their backs, and all that is strange and unknown andwonderful stretching away like a vast landscape before them? How manyare there who would not give much to be back once more at that thresholdof their career; and to have the chance of living over again the lifethey began there with such bright hopes and such careless confidence?Ah, if some of them could have seen whither that flower-strewn path wasto lead them, would they not rather have chosen even to die on thethreshold, than take so much as the first step forth from the innocenthome of childhood!

But I am wandering from my story. For half an hour after that lastgood-bye Charlie leaned back in the corner of his carriage and gavehimself up to his loneliness, and I could feel his chest heaving to keepdown the tears that would every now and then rise unbidden to his eyes. 

But what boy of thirteen can be in the dumps for long? Especially if hehas a new watch in his pocket. Charlie was himself again before we hadwell got clear of London, and his reviving spirits gradually recalled tohis memory his father's parting gift, which had for a while been halfforgotten amid other cares. 

Now again I was produced, I was turned over and over, was listened to, was peeped into, was flourished about, was taken off my chain, and puton again with the supremest satisfaction. At every station we came to, out I came from his pocket, to be compared with the railway time. Bythe clock at Batfield I was a minute slow--a discrepancy which was nosooner discovered than I felt my glass face opened, and a fat finger andthumb putting forward my hand to the required time. At Norbely I wastwo minutes fast by the clock, and then (oh, horrors!) I found myselfput back in the same rough-and-ready way. At Maltby I was full half aminute behind the great clock, and on I went again. At the next stationthe clock and I both gave the same time to a second, and then what musthe do but begin to regulate me! After a minute calculation he made theastounding discovery that I had lost a minute and a quarter in fourhours, and that in order to compensate for this shortcoming it would benecessary for him to move my regulator forward the two hundred andfortieth part of an inch. This feat he set himself to accomplish withthe point of his scarf-pin while the train was jolting forward at therate of thirty miles an hour!

I began to grow nervous. If this was a sample of what I was to expect, I had indeed need be the healthy, hardy watch I was represented to be bymy maker. 

And yet I could not be angry with my brave, honest little tormentor. 

It was a sight to see him during that long journey, in all the glory ofa new suit, with a high hat on his head for the first time, and a watchin his pocket. _In_ his pocket, did I say? I was hardly ever so lucky. Every five minutes he whipped me out to see how the time was going. Ifhe polished me up once with his handkerchief, he did it twenty times, and each time with such vigour that I was nearly red-hot under theoperation. And no sooner was he tired of polishing me, than he took topaying his hat the same attention, till that wretched article ofdecoration must have trembled for its nap. Then he would take towhistling and singing (what boy can help doing one or the other in atrain?) and as I heard all his little artless songs and gay chirping, Ithought it the pleasantest music one could possibly listen to. And, notto let his hands be less busy than his throat, he would bring out thewonderful six-bladed knife his uncle had given him, and exploring allits wonders, and opening all its blades at the same time, together withthe corkscrew, the gimlet, the pincers, and the button-hook, atdifferent angles, would terrify the lives out of his fellow-passengersby twirling the awful bristling weapon in his fingers within a foot orso of their faces. 

"Mind, dear, " said an old lady on the seat opposite, "you'll cut yourfingers off, I'm certain. "

"Oh, no, I won't, " exclaimed he, taking out his handkerchief, andbeginning to polish the blades one after another. 

The old lady trembled as she watched him, and sighed with relief whenthe operation was over. 

Presently, having nothing particular to do, he stared at her. "Wouldyou like to know the time, ma'am?" he inquired. 

"If you please, " replied the good old soul. 

"Well, it's just seventeen minutes and nineteen seconds past three by mywatch. Would you like to see for yourself, ma'am?"

And, pleased to have a confidant of his possessions, he loosed my chain, and flourished me bodily before the eyes of his new friend. 

She took me kindly, and said, "What a fine watch you've got, dear?"

"Yes, " replied he, with lofty condescension; "like to see his works?"

"You should be careful, you know, " she said, "watches so easily get outof order. "

"Oh, I won't hurt it, " said he, proceeding to take off my coat andwaistcoat. "There! there are his works. Don't breathe hard, or you'lldamp them. "

So the old lady held her breath and peeped in, much to my young master'sgratification. 

"And so you're going to school, my man?" said she presently. 

"Yes; who told you! Did my father tell you?"

"No, I guessed. "

"Did you though? Can you guess what the name of the school is?"

"No, I can't do that. "

"Have a try. "

"Well, then, I guess Randlebury, because my boy is there, and it's theonly one I can think of. "

The boy stared at her. "How ever did you know that?"

"What!" she exclaimed, "you don't mean to tell me you _are_ going toRandlebury?"

"I am, though. "

"Well, I never, " cried the good old soul, "who would have believed it!Think of your going to the same school as my Tom. "

"Is Tom your boy's name?"

"Yes. "

"Is he a nice boy?"

Such a question to ask any one's mother!

The old lady burst into tears instead of answering--a proceeding whichgreatly alarmed and disconcerted my master. 

"Don't cry, " he said excitedly. "Look here! I didn't mean--oh, don't!Look here, shall I tell you the time? It's--it's sixteen minutes tofour--I didn't mean, you know. Of course he's a nice boy--oh, don'tcry!"

And he got into such a state that the old lady dried her eyes at once. 

"Never mind me, dear, " said she, "it wasn't you made me cry: it wasthinking of my Tom. You'll be a good friend to him, won't you, dear?"

"Perhaps he won't like me. "

"Now I'm sure he will, " exclaimed the lady warmly; so warmly that Iquite loved her for my little master's sake. Both were silent for sometime, and then Charlie asked, --

"I say, has he got a watch?"

"No. "

"Oh, never mind, " said he, in a tone of evident relief, "I can tell himthe time, you know, whenever he wants to know. "

"To be sure you can. "

Then Charlie took to polishing me and the chain up again, an occupationwhich lasted until we arrived at Gunborough Junction, where passengerschanged for Randlebury. 

"Good-bye, dear, " said the old lady, as Charlie proceeded to gettogether his things. 

"Good-bye, " said he. "Would you like to know the time before I go?It's eight past five. Good-bye. "

"May I give you a kiss?" said she. 

Charlie blushed, but offered his cheek hurriedly. 

"And you promise to be a good friend to Tom, " said she, kissing him, "won't you?"

"All right, " said the boy, jumping out on to the platform, and runningto see after his luggage. 

In a moment however he returned to the window and put his head in. 

"I say, " said he, "what's his name--Tom what?"

"Drift, " said the old lady, "Tom Drift!"

"Oh!" replied my master, "all right, good-bye;" and next minute thetrain went on, and he was left standing surrounded by his luggage in themiddle of the platform, like a lighthouse in the middle of an island. 

CHAPTER THREE. 

HOW MY MASTER AND I REACH RANDLEBURY IN STATE, AND OF A GREAT CALAMITY. 

My master and I had nearly an hour to wait on the platform at Gunboroughbefore the Randlebury train came up. Part of this interval Charlie, forfear he might forget to do it at night, devoted to winding me up; anexperiment which nearly closed my career for ever, for he first began toturn the key the wrong way; then, when he had discovered his mistake, hestarted in the other direction with a sudden dash, and finally overwoundme to such an extent that I expected every second to hear my heart breakwith the strain. 

Then he sat on his boxes, whistling to himself and drumming his heels onthe platform. The train came up at last, and in he jumped, findinghimself and a grave elderly gentleman in joint possession of thecarriage. 

Charlie was too busy staring out of the window, whistling, and brushingthe dust off his new hat, to take much notice of his companion until thetrain was fairly started; then, observing the gentleman look at hiswatch, the boy at once recognised a bond of sympathy and pulled out me. 

"I wonder if I'm the same as you?" he said eagerly. 

"I hope you are not, " said the gentleman, "for I'm a quarter of an hourfast. "

"Are you though?" said the boy, in astonishment. 

"Why don't you put it right? I would. "

"It's a bad thing to put a watch back, my boy; besides, I rather likekeeping mine a little fast. "

"Do you? I say, do you think my watch is a good one?" said Charlie, thrusting me into the hands of his astonished travelling companion. 

"I can't say, my boy. I know nothing about watches. It looks a niceone. "

"Yes, father gave it me. I say, are you going to Randlebury?"

"Yes. "

"Do you know the school? I'm going there. "

"Oh, yes; I know the school. And you are going there, are you?"inquired the gentleman, with interest. 

"Yes, I'm a new boy, you know. "

"And how do you like going to school?"

"Oh, all right; only I don't know what it'll be like. Eat I say, Idon't suppose there's many of the boys my age have got watches, do you?"

The gentleman laughed. "I dare say not, " he said. Charlie was silentfor a time, and then asked, --

"I say, what sort of fellow's the head master; do you know?"

"I've seen him now and then, " said the gentleman. 

"Is he awfully stuck-up and strict?" asked the boy anxiously. 

"I really don't know, " said the gentleman, biting his lips; "I hopenot. "

"So do I. I wish my father was the head master, " said Charlie, thetears for a moment starting to his eyes at the bare thought of suchhappiness. 

The gentleman looked at him very kindly, and said, --

"Cheer up, my little man; perhaps it won't be so bad after all. "

Charlie smiled again as he said, --

"Oh, yes, I've got to be brave, you know, because I promised father. But I say, if you ever come to the school, ask for me--my name's CharlieNewcome--will you? because I don't know any of the fellows; andbesides, " added he, brightening at the idea, "we can see if our watchesare going the same, you know. "

The gentleman promised, and soon after this the train arrived atRandlebury. The boy bid his companion farewell, and went off as beforeto look after his belongings. 

As he was standing surrounded by his baggage, a man in the dress of acoachman came up to him and said, --

"Are you the young party from London for the school?"

"Yes, " replied the boy. 

"It's all right, " said the man; "give us hold of these things, and jumpinside my trap. "

"How far is it?" he asked of the man. 

"Better of three miles. "

"Is it, though? I say, can't you put the things inside, and then I canride on the box?"

"All square, " said the man; "hop up, my young bantam. "

The young bantam did hop up, and they were soon on their way to theschool. 

I need hardly say it was not long before Charlie and the driver were onconfidential terms. The boy duly produced first me and then his six-bladed knife to the admiring eyes of his new companion, insisting on histaking both into his hands, and demanding his candid opinion on theirmerits. 

Presently a wholly new idea seemed to strike him. 

"I say, driver, what's your name?"

"Jim, if you want to know, " replied that public servant. 

"Well, Jim, I wish you'd just get inside and look after the luggage, andlet me drive; will you?"

The man opened his eyes and his mouth at the proposition, and thenbursting out laughing. 

"Hark at him!" he exclaimed; "did you ever hear the like? Me get insideand let a young shaver like him drive me--ho! ho!"

"Come along, Jim; I know the way; and it _would_ be a lark. Come on, _dear_ Jim. "

And the boy got quite affectionate in his eagerness. 

"Dear Jim, " who was one of those easy-going men who don't take muchpersuading when they're approached the right way, at length consented tohand over the reins to Charlie; and after waiting some time to see forhimself that the boy could really manage, after a fashion, to drive thehorse, he further gratified him by descending from the box, and leavinghim in sole possession of the coveted position. 

"Get inside, Jim, " cried the boy, with beaming face. 

Jim, his face all one grin, obeyed, saying, as he did so, --

"Well, if you ain't a queer one! That's the house there, on the top ofthat hill. Mind how you go, now. "

"All right; you get inside. And I say, Jim, " added the boy, leaningdown from his perch, "make yourself comfortable, you know, and don'tbother about me. I want to drive all by myself, and you aren't to helpme a bit, mind. "

So the driver got inside, and seating himself among the luggage, proceeded to make himself "comfortable, " as instructed. 

Meanwhile my master, as proud as an emperor, lashed his steed into acanter, and rattled off in the direction of the school. 

"That'll astonish some of them caps and gowns, I reckon, " I heard cabbysay to himself. "You see, if he don't drive us right up to the frontdoor, as comfortable as if we was the sheriff of the county. "

You may imagine what was the astonishment of the grave and reverendauthorities at Randlebury School when they perceived, coming up thecarriage drive, a cab with a boy of thirteen perched on the box, tuggingat the reins, hallooing to the horse, and making his whip crack like somany fireworks; while inside, comfortably lounging amid a pile ofluggage, reclined cabby at his ease, grinning from ear to ear. 

The young Jehu, perfectly innocent of the sensation he was making, pursued his triumphant career at full speed up to the very hall door, pulling up his steed with such a sudden jerk as almost to bring him intoa sitting position, while the piled-up luggage inside fell all about thecab with the shock, to the imminent risk of cabby's life. 

"Well, if that ain't one way of doing it, I don't know what is!"exclaimed that astonished charioteer, emerging from his precariousquarters. "Down you jump, young un. "

Charlie descended, all jubilant with triumph, and pulling out me, exclaimed, "We did that three miles in half an hour--not bad, was it?"

In his excitement he had not observed that the door of the house hadopened, and that these words, instead of being addressed to the cabby, had been spoken to a stately female who stood in the portal before him. 

Now however he caught sight of her, and not knowing exactly what was theproper thing to do under the circumstances, stared at her. 

"What do you say, young man?" inquired she, in a solemn voice. 

"Oh, " said the boy, "I didn't know it was you. I was telling Jim we hadcome from the station in half an hour. You know we started at 6. 2 by mywatch, and it's just 6. 33 now. Would you like to see for yourself, marm?" added he, preparing to unfasten the chain. 

"I know what the time is, young man, " replied she sternly; "and pray, who is Jim?" she asked, looking down in solemn perplexity at this queerboy. 

"Oh, he's the driver is Jim, and he got inside, you know, and I'vedriven nearly all the way up by myself; haven't I, Jim?"

"Come inside, sir, " said the matron hurriedly, "and don't stand talkingto vulgar cabmen and calling them by their Christian names. Your nameis Charles Newcome, I suppose? Come this way. "

Charlie followed her in, his enthusiasm rather damped at this somewhatfrigid greeting, and sorry in his heart he had not been allowed anopportunity of bidding farewell to his friend the driver. 

And now I could hear the little fellow's heart begin to beat quicker ashe found himself at length for the first time in his life inside apublic school. The rows of caps in the corridors, the distant hum ofvoices through half-opened doors, the occasional shout from theplayground, and the fleeting vision of a master in cap and gown, all hadfor him the deepest and most mysterious interest. As he sat waiting inthe matron's room while that worthy lady went to superintend thebringing in of his luggage, his mind became full of wonderings andmisgivings. I who lay so near the seat of his emotions could tell whatwas going on in his breast. He wondered if the pair of socks lying onthe table with a hole in each heel, which appeared to be waiting theirturn for mending, belonged to the son of the old lady he had met in thetrain. He wondered if the footsteps in the passage belonged to the headmaster, and whether that awful being was being fetched to punish him forhis crime of driving the cab. He wondered who the boy was who put hishead in at the door and drew it back again. With what reverential eyeshe followed that hero's retreating form, and how he hung on hiswhistling. 

When would _he_, he wondered, be sufficiently hardy to whistle withinthose awful walls? Then he wondered if he was the only new boy, and ifso, whether every one would stare at him and laugh at his new coat. Hewished he'd got his old one on, then he wouldn't have felt so brand-new. And then--and then. .. 

But here, tired-out with his long journey and the excitement of the day, a drowsy fit came over him, and without another thought he dropped offto sleep, where he sat. In this attitude the housekeeper found him whenshe returned. 

She could not help feeling rather more than a common interest in thiscurly-haired, tired-out little fellow, as he sat there in his newclothes, huddled up, with his little hat slipping from his head, and hishand clasping his precious six-bladed knife. Accustomed as she was toboys and their rude ways, this matron had a good deal of softness leftin her heart, and I dare say she thought as she watched Charlie thatafternoon that if she had ever had a son of her own she would have likeda boy something like the little fellow before her. She went softly upto him, took his hat from its perilous situation, and, lifting him inher strong arms so gently as not to wake him, laid him on her own sofa, and left him there to enjoy his well-merited sleep, while she busiedherself about making tea. 

It was at this moment that a calamity befell me, which, in myinexperience of the ways and natures of watches, I imagined to benothing short of fatal. The excitement through which I had passed, andthe rough-and-ready usage to which I had been subjected during the day, seemed all of a sudden to overpower me. In some unaccountable way Ifound my hands caught together in a manner I had never known them to bebefore; no effort of mine could disengage them, and the exertion thusrequired, added to the fatigues of the day, produced a sort of paralysisof my whole system without quite losing consciousness. I could feel mycirculation become slower and finally stop; my nerves and energiesbecame suspended, and my hands grew numb and powerless. Even my heartceased to beat, and the little cry of alarm which I gave just before mypowers left me failed to bring me any help. I was ill, very ill indeed;to me it seemed as if my last moment had come, and I could not bear thethought of thus early being taken from my young master, whom already Ihad learned to love as my best, though my roughest friend. 

How long I lay thus, speechless and helpless, I cannot say. Once I wasjust conscious of a slight jerk from my chain as he peeped in andwhispered, --

"What are you so quiet about down there?"

Of course I could not answer. 

"Do you hear? What are you so quiet about?"

It only added to my misery to know that there was a fellow-being soclose at hand, and yet that I was powerless to make him aware of mycondition. My silence offended him, for he turned away, muttering tohimself, --

"Sulky humbug! I declare some people haven't so much as the manners ofa kitchen clock. "

After that I was left to myself, in agony and suspense, to wait themoment of my dissolution. 

A long time passed before my master stirred, and when he did thehousekeeper's tea was cold. She bustled about to make him some more, and was so kind in buttering his toast and hunting for some jam, thatthe drooping spirits of the tired-out boy revived wonderfully. Indeed, as the meal proceeded he became on friendly and confidential terms evenwith so awful a personage as Mrs Packer. 

"Would you like to see my knife, ma'am?" he asked. 

"Bless me, what a knife it is, " cried the lady. "You'll go doingyourself some harm with it. "

"That's what the other old lady in the train said, " replied Charlie, unconscious of wounding the feelings of his hostess, who fondly imaginedshe was not more than middle-aged; "but then, you know, she thought itwas a fine knife, and I think so too, don't you? I say, marm, do youknow Tom Drift?"

The change of subject was so sudden that Mrs Packer stared at the boy, half wondering whether he was not talking in his sleep. 

"What about him?" she inquired. 

"Oh, only the old lady was his mother, and I promised her--at least shesaid--do you know Tom Drift, ma'am?"

"To be sure; he's one of the boys here. "

"Yes--I say, ma'am, might I see Tom Drift, do you think? I've gotsomething to say to him. "

Mrs Packer, wholly at a loss to understand her youthful guest, but atthe same time disposed to be indulgent to his little whims, said Tomwould be at lessons now, and she didn't think he would be able to come. 

"Wouldn't it do in the morning?"

"Oh no, " said Charlie, with the gravest face. "I must see him to-night, please, if you don't mind. "

The housekeeper concluded that Charlie had some important message fromthe mother to her son, and therefore rang for a servant, whom shedespatched with a message to Master Drift that some one wanted to seehim. 

In a very little time that hero made his appearance; and as he was thefirst Randlebury boy Charlie had set eyes on, he appeared for a moment avery awful and a very sublime personage in that little new boy's eyes. But Charlie was too intent on his mission to allow himself to be quiteoverawed. 

"Here's a new boy, Master Drift, wants to speak to you. "

"What do you want, young un--eh?"

"Oh, it's all right, Tom Drift; only I saw your mother, you know, in thetrain, and she said you were a nice boy, and she sent her love, and Itold her I'd let you know the time whenever you wanted, because youain't got a watch, you know, and I have. I say, would you like to knowthe time now, Tom Drift?"

All this was rattled out with such eager volubility, that Tom Drift, hero as he was, was fairly taken aback, and looked quite sheepish, asthe beaming boy proceeded to pull me out of his pocket. 

"Well, it's just--hullo!"

He saw in an instant something was wrong. 

"Why, it says only half-past six--that must be wrong!"

"It's eight o'clock by the hall clock, " said Mrs Packer; "it's just nowstruck. "

Charlie looked at me, opened me, held me to his ear, and thenexclaimed, --

"Oh! my watch has stopped! My watch has stopped! What shall I do?" andthe poor boy, overwhelmed with his misfortune, held me out appealingly, and scarcely restrained the tears which started to his eyes. 

CHAPTER FOUR. 

HOW I WAS CURED OF MY AILMENTS, AND HOW MY MASTER BEGAN LIFE ATRANDLEBURY. 

All this while Tom Drift had said nothing, but had stood regarding firstmy master, and then me, with mingled amusement, pity, and astonishment. At last, when poor Charlie fairly thrust me into his hands, that hemight see with his own eyes the calamity which had befallen the watchthat had been destined to minister such consolation to his time-inquiring mind, he took me gingerly, and stared at me as if I had been atoad or a dead rat. 

"Can't you make it go, Tom Drift? Please do. "

"How can I make him go? I don't know what's the row. "

"Do you think it would be a good thing to wind it up?" asked Charlie. 

"Don't know; you might try. "

Charlie did wind me up; but that was not what I wanted. Already I hadhad that done while waiting at Gunborough Junction. 

"What do you say to shaking him?" asked Tom Drift presently. Mostpeople spoke of me as "it, " but Tom Drift always called me "him. "

"I hardly like, " said Charlie; "_you_ try. "

Tom took me and solemnly shook me; it was no use. I still remainedspeechless and helpless. 

"Suppose we shove his wheels on?" next suggested that sage philosopher. 

Charlie demurred a little at this; it seemed almost too bold a remedy, even for him; however he yielded to Tom's superior judgment. 

The heir of the house of Drift accordingly took a pin from the lining ofhis jacket, and, taking off my coat and waistcoat, proceeded first toprod one of my wheels and then another, but in vain. They just movedfor an instant but then halted again, as stiff end lifeless as ever. 

For a moment the profound Tom seemed baffled, and then at last abrilliant idea occurred to him. 

"I tell you what, I expect he's got damp, or cold, or something. We'dbetter warm him!"

And the two boys knelt before the fire with me between them, turning meat the end of my chain so as to get the warmth on all sides, like a legof mutton on a spit. 

Of course that had no effect. What was to be done? No winding up, noshaking, no irritation of my wheels with a pin, no warming of me at thefire, could avail anything. They were ready to give me up. Suddenly, however, Tom, who had been examining my face minutely, burst into a loudlaugh. 

"What a young donkey you are!" he cried. "Don't you see his hands arecaught? That's what's the matter. The minute-hand's got bent, andcan't get over the hour hand. You're a nice chap to have a watch!"

It might have occurred to Charlie (as it did to me) that whatever sortof watch-owner the former might be, a boy who successively shook, tickled, and roasted me to get me to go, was hardly the one to lecturehim on his failings; but my master was too delighted at the prospect ofhaving his treasure cured to be very critical of the physician. Andthis time, at last, Tom Drift had found the real cause of myindisposition. In endeavouring to pass one another at half-past six, mytwo hands had become entangled, and refusing to proceed in company, hadstopped where they were stopping my circulation and indeed my animationat the same time. 

Once more the astute Tom produced his pin; and sticking it under the endof my minute-hand, disengaged it from its fellow and bent it back intoits proper position. Instantly, as if by magic, the life rushed backinto my body; my circulation started afresh, and my heart beat its oldbeat. Charlie set up a shout of jubilation, and almost hugged Tom inhis gratitude. The latter looked very wise and very condescending--ashad he not a right?--and, handing me back to my master, said, with theair of a physician prescribing a course of treatment for a convalescentpatient, --

"You'd better shove him on to the right time, and then keep him quiet, young un. "

This Charlie did, and it would be hard to say which of us two was thehappier at that moment. 

I had scarcely been deposited once more into my accustomed pocket, whena loud bell sounded down the corridors, and made Tom Drift jump as if hehad been shot. 

"I say, that's the prayer-bell! Come on! unless you want to get into ajolly row. "

And without further words he seized the astonished Charlie by the arm, and ran with him at full speed along one or two empty passages, dashingat last in through a big door, which was in the very act of closing asthe two reached it. 

Charlie was so confused, and so out of breath with this astonishing andfrantic race, that for a minute he did not know whether he was standingon his head or his heels. 

There was, however, no time for solving the problem just then, for TomDrift, still retaining his grasp on his arm, dragged him forward, whispering, --

"This way; wasn't that a close shave? Get in here, and don't make anoise. "

Charlie obeyed, and found himself in a pew, one of a congregation ofsome two hundred boys, assembled in the school chapel for eveningprayers. At the far end of the chapel he could hear a man's voice, reading; but what it said it was impossible for him to make out, owingto the talking that was going on around him. 

He looked eagerly and curiously down the long rows of his newschoolfellows, feeling half afraid at the sight of so many new faces, and half proud of being a Randlebury boy, with a right to a seat in thechapel. And as he looked he saw some faces he thought he should like, and some that he thought he would dislike; there were merry, bright-eyedboys, like himself, and there were ill-tempered, sullen-looking boys;there were boys haggard with hard-reading, and boys who looked as iftheir heads were altogether empty. 

But what puzzled and troubled Charlie not a little was to notice, thatthough the school was supposed to be at prayers, and though most of themmust have been within hearing of the reader's voice, a considerableproportion of the boys before him were neither listening nor evincing intheir behaviour the slightest sign of reverence for the service in whichthey were engaged. 

He was sorry to see that Tom Drift was laughing and whispering with hiscompanions; entertaining them with an account of the way in which he hadset the new "young un's" watch to rights, and what a shave they had frombeing shut out from prayers. (Charlie wondered, as he noticed all this, whether, after all, he would have lost much good if that misfortune hadhappened. ) And one or two boys were chewing toffee; at least, Charliethought it must be toffee, their mouths were so brown, and they madesuch a noise over the process of mastication; some, with their hands intheir pockets, were listlessly staring up at the roof; and some werereading books, anything but prayer-books, under the desk. 

Charlie did his best to attend to what the invisible and inarticulatevoice was saying, and tried to recall what his father had told him aboutnot letting new scenes and new companions tempt him to forget of neglectthe lessons of duty and religion which he had learned at his parents'home; but it was not easy work, and to him it was a relief when all wasover, and the boys proceeded to file out of the chapel. 

"Where are they all going?" he inquired, turning round to where TomDrift had been standing. 

That young man, however, was no longer there. He had gone off to enjoythe questionable luxury of roast potatoes in a friend's study, entirelyforgetting his young and forlorn charge. 

Charlie was puzzled. He was sure he could never find his way back toMrs Packer's through such a maze of passages, and he knew not whereelse to go. 

As he stood watching in despair the last remnant of his fellow-worshippers passing out, and wondering what was to become of him, hebecame aware of two big boys stopping in front of him and looking athim. 

"That's him!" said one, whose grammar was perhaps not his strongestpoint at this moment. 

"Why, he's only a kid!" said the other, who, being sixteen, felt fullyjustified in so designating my young master. 

"I can't help that, I know it's him, " said the first. 

"I say, you fellow, " added he, addressing Charlie, "wasn't it you droveup to the front door in a cab this afternoon?"

Charlie trembled in his shoes. More than once had his heart misgivenhim, he had committed an unpardonable offence in the mode of his adventto Randlebury; and now, with these two awful accusers before him, hefelt as if his doom was come. 

"I'm very sorry, " he began; "yes, it was--I didn't mean, I'm sure. "

"What did you do it for, if you didn't mean, you young muff?--why don'tyou go off to bed?"

"Because I don't know where to go, and Tom Drift--"

"Do you know Tom Drift?"

"Yes--that is, I met his mother, " stammered Charlie, becoming more andmore embarrassed. 

Both the big boys burst out laughing. "What a treat for his mother!"said one. "I suppose she told you Tom was a real nice boy?"

"Yes. "

"I thought so; so he is, isn't he, Joe?" and both boys laughed again. 

"And she gave you a kiss to take to him?"

"No, " said Charlie, blushing scarlet; "she did give me a kiss, but notfor him. "

It was a hard effort for the poor boy to come out with this admission, but candour compelled it. 

"Oh, she gave you one for yourself, did she?" and again they laughed. "What a dear old noodle she must be!"

"She was very kind to me, " said Charlie, not liking to hear his friendmade fun of. 

Just then a master came by. 

"What are you three boys doing here?" he asked. 

"Please, sir, this is a new boy, " replied he who had been called Joe, "and he doesn't know where to go. "

"Hum!" said the master, "I thought Mrs Packer would have seen afterthat. Let me see. You had better take him to your dormitory to-night, Halliday; there's a vacant bed there. Bring him to the doctor's roomafter breakfast to-morrow, " and he passed on. 

"Here's a treat!" exclaimed Joe, with a not ill-natured grin. "Thiscomes of stopping and talking to young scarecrows. Come along, youngster; think yourself lucky you've been handed over to me. I wearpatent leather boots, and they don't need as much blacking as some ofthe fellows'. "

Charlie was at a loss to understand what the material of MasterHalliday's boots had to do with his own alleged good fortune in fallinginto the hands of such a guardian; but he said nothing, and, reassuredby the good-humoured face of his conductor, followed him cheerfully fromthe chapel. 

"Hullo, Joe! got a donkey at last?" cried some one, as the two wendedtheir way up the stairs leading to the dormitories. 

"Looks like it, " was Joe's reply. 

It was not very long before Charlie learned that the four-footed beastthus vaguely referred to was a polite term which the big boys atRandlebury used to designate their fags. 

"Come in here, " said his conductor, turning in at a small door. 

Charlie found himself inside a small apartment, measuring about ten feetsquare, lighted by a small window, warmed by a small fire, decoratedwith a small bookcase, and furnished with a small table, two smallchairs, and a small cupboard. 

"This is my den; and mind when you clean the window you don't crack thatpane more than it is; and when you brush my things, you know, see theshelf isn't dirty, because I sometimes keep my worms there--do you hear?And now come along to bed; they put out lights at half-past nine. "

The mention of the time recalled me instinctively to Charlie's thoughts. He could not resist the temptation, suggested half by anxiety and halfby vanity, of taking me out and looking at me. 

"Hullo! What, have you got a watch?"

"Yes, " said Charlie meekly, not exactly knowing whether his companionwould be admiring or indignant with him. 

"More than I have, " was all Joe's rejoinder. 

Charlie's generosity was at once touched. 

"Oh, never mind, we can go shares sometimes, if you like, you know, "said he, not without an effort. 

"I don't want your watch, " was Master Halliday's somewhat ungraciousreply. "Let's have a look at it, will you?"

He took me, and examined me; and evidently would not have objected to bethe possessor of a watch himself, though he tried to make it appear itwas a matter of indifference to him. 

"Why don't you get your father to give you one?" asked Charlieinnocently. 

"Because I haven't got a father. "

"Not got a father! Oh, I am sorry!" and the starting tears in thelittle fellow's eyes testified only too truly to his sincerity. "Lookhere, " he added, "do take the watch, please; perhaps you would like it, and my father would give me another. "

Joe Halliday gazed at his young fag in amazement. 

"Why, you are a queer chap, " he said. "I wouldn't take your watch foranything; but I tell you what, I'll ask you the time whenever I want toknow. "

"Will you really?" cried the delighted Charlie. "How jolly!"

"And look here, " continued Halliday, "take my advice, and don't gooffering your watch to everybody who hasn't got a father, or some ofthem might take you at your word, and then you'd look foolish. Comealong now. "

And he led the boy into the dormitory, where there were about twentybeds, most of them already occupied by boys, and the rest waiting foroccupants, who were rapidly undressing in different parts of the room. 

"Look sharp and tumble in, " said Joe, pointing out the bed Charlie wasto have. "There's only five minutes more. "

Charlie, with all the naturalness of innocence, knelt, as he was alwaysused to do, and said his prayers, adding a special petition for his dearabsent parents, and another for the poor boy who hadn't got a father. 

He was wholly unaware of the curiosity he had excited by his entranceinto the dormitory, still less did he imagine the sensation which hissimple act of devotion was creating. Twenty pairs of eyes stared at theunwonted spectacle of a boy saying his prayers, and many were thewhispered comments which passed from lip to lip. No one however (hadany been so inclined) stirred either to disturb or molest him--animmunity secured to him as much perhaps by the fact of his being underthe protection of so redoubtable a champion as Halliday as by anyspecial feeling of sympathy for his act. 

The good example was not, however, wholly lost, for that same night, after the lights were out, and when silence reigned in the room, morethan one boy covered his head with his sheet and tried to recall one ofthe early prayers of his childhood. 

As for Charlie, with me and the knife under his pillow, he slept thesleep of the just, and dreamt of home; and I can answer for it his wearyhead never turned once the livelong night. 

CHAPTER FIVE. 

HOW MY MASTER ENTERED AND QUITTED THE HEAD MASTER'S STUDY TWICE IN ONEMORNING. 

Charlie's first care in the morning was, as I need hardly say, to pullme out from under his pillow, and consult me as to the time. None ofhis companions were astir, so that, not having anything particular todo, he lay still, and abandoned himself to the luxury of an idle half-hour in bed. 

His spirits were so greatly revived by his night's rest that he forgotboth the novelty and the loneliness of his position, and fell topolishing first his knife and then me as merrily as if he were at home. What a difference a sound sleep often makes in the aspect of ouraffairs! Twelve hours ago he had felt as if he could never besufficiently bold as to whistle within the walls of Randlebury, and nowthe first sight and sound which greeted Halliday's returning senses, ashe sat up and rubbed his eyes, was his young _protege_ whistling tohimself like a lark, and brightening me up with all his might with thecorner of his blanket till I glowed again at nearly a red heat. 

"Who's that kicking up that row whistling?" growled a voice from the farend of the room; "because I'd like to shy a boot at his head. "

At this Charlie subsided, not desiring to gratify his unknown auditor inhis benevolent desire, and very soon after jumped up and dressedhimself. 

"Look here, youngster, " said Joe, "you'd better do my study now, as youmayn't have time after breakfast to-day. You know which room it is--thesixth on your right when you get downstairs. Cut along, look sharp, you've a good half-hour. "

Charlie made his way down to the lion's den, meeting on his way severalother discontented fags, bound on similar errands. He set himself toclean the window, tidy the cupboard, and generally put things square, and had succeeded fairly well in this endeavour by the time his patronmade his appearance. 

"What's the time?" inquired that lord of creation, running his eyerapidly round the room at the same time, to notice how his fag had donehis duty. 

"It's five minutes to eight, " replied Charlie, after consulting me, andhighly delighted to be thus appealed to. 

"Come along to breakfast, then. You'll have to sit at a different tablefrom me; but mind and wait for me afterwards, for I've got to take youto the doctor. "

So Charlie was conducted down to the hall to breakfast, and providedwith a humble seat at the foot of the lowest table, while Joe Hallidaymade his way with all the dignity that became his years to adistinguished place at the highest. 

My master found himself among a set of noisy little boys, who amusedthemselves during the greater part of the meal by interchanging volleysof bread pellets, which much oftener missed their marks than reachedthem, in consequence of which he himself came in for the brunt of thecannonade. Once he ventured to return one of the random shots which hadfound its way to his fingers. Fortune favoured his aim, and his shafthit the boy it was intended for full in the eye. 

"Who did that?" cried the wounded hero sharply. 

"I did, " replied Charlie, quite proud of his achievement. 

"All right, I'll punch your head for it when we get outside. "

This was by no means what Charlie had expected. He had imagined thewound would be received in the same spirit of jest in which it wasaimed. 

"It was only in fun, " he explained; "did it hurt you?"

"Of course it did, " exclaimed the injured youth, who till Charlie'sarrival had been the junior pupil of the school, and was now delightedto find some one below himself in the scale of seniority. "Of course itdid, and you'll catch it. "

All the other boys laughed, and Charlie, who could not find it in him tobe overawed by even so majestic a hero as little Master Johnny Walker, made the best of his position. 

"Look here, " he said, "I'll give you three shots at my mouth, and ifyou--"

"There's too much talking at table six!" exclaimed an awful voice, andinstantly every voice was hushed, including Charlie's, who blushed tothe roots of his hair, and felt as if he had been singled out before thewhole school as a rioter. He gulped down his breakfast without furtherargument with Master Walker, and was relieved, when the meal was over, to find that that doughty warrior appeared to have altered his mindabout punching his youthful head. 

After some time he saw Halliday beckoning to him from the other side ofthe room. 

"Now you've got to go to the doctor, " said he; "come along. "

This was the first time my master had fully realised the solemn natureof the approaching interview, and I felt his heart flutter as heinquired, --

"I say, what will he say to me?"

"Oh, all sorts of things; you'd better mind what you're up to, I cantell you, " was the reassuring reply. 

"Do you think I shall get in a row for driving the cab yesterday?"faltered Charlie. 

"Shouldn't wonder, " was the reply. 

"Oh, dear! And do you think he saw me hit Johnny Walker in the eye atbreakfast?"

"What, were you the boy who was kicking up all that row? My eye! you'rein for it! Here you are; I'll knock for you. "

And giving the poor trembling boy not so much as an instant in which tocollect his flurried ideas, Joe gave a rap at the door, which wasanswered at once by a sharp "Come in!" from within. 

"Now then, " said Halliday, "in you go. "

Charlie's knees shook under him, and he hung back from that awful doorin mute terror. 

"Come in!" again cried the voice. 

"Do you hear, you young muff?" exclaimed Halliday. "Won't you catch it!Go in, will you?"

And opening the door himself he fairly pushed my poor master into thehead master's study. 

Fancy the agony of the poor boy, fully believing himself a doomedmiscreant, entering for the first time the awful presence of the headmaster of Randlebury School. 

He stood there with downcast eyes, not daring to speak, and rooted tothe spot. 

"Why, what's the matter, my boy?"

At the words Charlie started like one electrified. He had surely heardthat voice before somewhere! He looked up, and what was hisastonishment to find in his dreaded principal no other than thegentleman with whom he had yesterday spent such a friendly hour in thetrain between Gunborough and Randlebury!

And his face was as kind as ever, and his voice encouraging, as herepeated, --

"What's the matter, my man? has the watch stopped. "

"Oh, sir, " said Charlie, running up to him, "I am glad it's you, and I'mso sorry I drove the cab, and hit Walker in the eye. I'll never do itagain!"

"Tut, tut, " said the head master; "if you never do any worse than that, you won't go far wrong. I didn't tell you who I was yesterday, becauseI wanted you to manage for yourself, and fight your own battle on firstarriving. Now tell me how you have got on. "

And Charlie faithfully recounted to him everything, including my suddenindisposition, and my cure by Tom Drift. 

Dr Weldon (for that was his name) listened to his story, and thensaid, --

"Well, you've made a pretty good beginning. Now try to remember this:your father has sent you here for two reasons; one is that your head maybe furnished, and the other is that your character may be trained. Iand your teachers can undertake the first; but it depends chiefly on youhow the second succeeds. You will constantly be having to choose foryourself between what is right and what is wrong, and between what istrue and what is false. Take the advice of one who has passed throughall the temptations you are likely to meet here--rely always on a wisdomthat is better than your own, and when once you see which way dutycalls, follow that way as if your life depended on it. Do this, andyou'll turn out a far better man than the man who is talking to you. Whenever you are in trouble come to me, I shall always be glad to seeyou. I promised you, you know, I would ask for you occasionally, didn'tI? And now let's see what you've got in your head. "

And then followed a brief examination, conducted in a way which putCharlie quite at his ease, and so enabled him to acquit himself with afair amount of credit and win from his master a commendation, which heprized not a little, for it was that his father's efforts had not beenwasted on him. 

"You will be put in the second-form, " said the doctor, "and if you workhard, I see no reason why you should not get up into the third nextmidsummer. Now, good-bye. I hope you won't find the head master ofRandlebury is as `stiff and stuck-up a fellow' as you dreaded, and Itrust I shall find you as honest and brave a fellow as I hoped you wouldturn out the first time I saw you. Good-bye. "

Charlie rose to leave with overflowing heart. He even forgot in themidst of his pleasant emotion to inquire, as he had fully intended todo, after the doctor's watch, and if it was still a quarter of an hourfast. 

As he left the room he could not help contrasting with thankfulness hispresent state of mind with that in which he had entered it an hour ago. He laughed at himself for all his foolish fears then, and as for thefuture, that seemed now ever so much easier and brighter. 

Outside the door he found Tom Drift passing along the corridor in astate of great excitement. 

"The very chap, I declare, " cried he. "I say, lend us your watch, youngun, will you?"

"What for?" asked Charlie. 

"Only a time race. Tom Shadbolt says he can run a mile in 4. 40. I sayhe can't do it under 4. 50, and we've got a bet of half-a-crown a sideupon it. So lend us your watch to time him by. "

Charlie hesitated, and a pang passed through his breast. He knew thatone of the things which he had promised his father was that he wouldhave nothing to do with betting or gambling in any form, and how couldhe obey in this respect if he now lent me for the purpose for which Iwas required? And yet he owed Tom Drift no common gratitude for thegood service he had done in setting me right yesterday, and surely ifany one had a right to borrow me it was he. The struggle was a soreone, but soon decided. 

"I can't lend it you, Tom Drift. "

"Why ever not?" asked Tom sharply. 

"I'm very sorry; if it had been anything else--but I promised father Iwould not gamble. "

"Young ass! who wants you to gamble? I only want you to lend us yourwatch. "

"_You_ are gambling, though, " said Charlie timidly. 

"And what's that got to do with you, you young idiot, " exclaimed Drift, fairly losing his temper, "if I am?"

"I'm very sorry, " said Charlie, "especially as you put it all right. Ifit was anything else; but I can't for this. "

"Look here, " said Drift in a fury, "we've had fooling enough. Hand methe watch this moment, or I'll take it and smash it, and you into thebargain!"

"Oh, Tom Drift, don't do that. I would so gladly for anything else, butI promised father--"

"Once more, will you, or will you not?"

"I can't. "

"Then take that!" and next moment Charlie received a blow full on thechest, which sent him staggering back against the wall. 

Oh, how he wished that moment he had never owned me!

Tom came upon him with an angry oath, and seized him by the throat. 

"Will you give it up?"

"No, " replied Charlie. 

He was fairly roused now; no boy--certainly no boy of his sort--canstand quietly by and receive undeserved blows. Tom tightened his gripon the boy's throat, and strove to snatch me from his pocket. 

Quick as thought Charlie threw his arms round him, and, though thesmaller boy of the two, extricated himself from the clutch of the bully, and sent him in turn staggering back. Livid with rage, Tom rushed athim; but Charlie eluded him, and left him to overbalance himself andfall sprawling on the paved floor. At this instant the doctor's dooropened, and the head master stood gazing on the scene. 

Poor Charlie! five minutes ago so full of bright hopes and braveresolutions, and now, under the eyes of the very man who had inspired inhim those hopes and resolutions, engaged in a common fight with aschoolfellow!

"What is all this?" asked the doctor sternly. "Come in here, you two. "

Charlie, with sinking heart, entered again that solemn room, and Driftfollowed, sulky, and with a black bruise on his forehead. 

Charlie left his antagonist to tell his story after his own fashion, andwas too dispirited either to contradict him or seek to justify himself. He felt ashamed of himself, and in his self-humiliation saw neitherdefence nor extenuation for his conduct. 

Drift was dismissed with a few sharp words of reproof and warning. Charlie remained longer. 

What the doctor said to him, and what he said to the doctor, I need nothere repeat. Suffice it to say, the former was able to form a fairerestimate of my master's conduct than he himself was. He did not blamehim; he even told him that no boy could expect to get through his schooldays without some blows, and advised him to see they were always on theright side. He talked to him long and seriously about home, and socomforted him in prospect of future difficulties and temptations, thatwhen he left that study the second time, it was as a wiser, thoughperhaps a sadder boy than before. 

CHAPTER SIX. 

HOW MY MASTER HAD BOTH HIS FRIENDS AND HIS ENEMIES AT RANDLEBURY. 

The events of Charlie's first day at Randlebury had at least taught himone salutary lesson, and that was, to moderate his enthusiasm withregard to me, and consequently for the next few weeks I had a quiet timeof it. True enough, my master would occasionally produce me inconfidence to a select and admiring audience, and would ever and againproffer the use of me to his protector, Joe Halliday, but he gave upflourishing me in the face of every passer-by, and took to buttoning hisjacket over the chain, I found my health all the better for this gentlerusage, and showed my gratitude by keeping perfect time from one week'send to the other. 

It is hardly necessary for me to say that Charlie was not long in makingfriends at Randlebury. Indeed some of his acquaintance looked upon thisexceeding friendliness in the boy's disposition as one of his weakpoints. 

"I do believe, " said Walcot, who was only four from the head of theschool, to his friend, Joe Halliday, one day, about a month after mymaster's arrival at Randlebury--"I do believe that young fag of yourswould chum up to the poker and tongs if there were no fellows here. "

"Shouldn't wonder, " said Joe. "He's a sociable young beggar, and keepsmy den uncommon tidy. Why, only the other day, when I was in no end ofa vicious temper about being rowed about my Greek accents, you know, andwhen I should have been really grateful to the young scamp if he'd givenme an excuse for kicking him, what should he do but lay wait for me inmy den with a letter from his father, which he insisted on reading aloudto me. What do you think it was about?"

"I couldn't guess, " said Walcot. 

"Well, you must know he's lately chummed up very thick with my youngbrother Jim in the second, and--would you believe it?--he took it intohis head to sit down and write to his governor to ask him if he wouldgive Jim and me each a watch like the one he's got himself. What do youthink of that?"

"Did he, though?" exclaimed Walcot, laughing. "I say, old boy, you'llmake your fortune out of that youngster; and what did his father say?"

"Oh, he was most polite, of course; his boy's friends were his friends, and all that, and he finished up by saying he hoped we should both comeand spend Christmas there. "

"Ha! ha! and did he send the watches?"

"No; I suppose he wants to spy out the land first. "

"Well, " said Walcot, "the boy's all right with you, but he'll go makinga fool of himself some day if he makes up to everybody he meets. "

My master, in fact, was already a popular boy with his fellows. He hada select band of admirers among the youth of the Second-Form, whocackled round him like hens round a bantam. Together they groaned overtheir Latin exercises and wrestled with their decimals; together theyheard the dreaded summons to the master's desk; and side by side, I amsorry to say, they held out their open palms to receive his cane. If aslate bearing on its surface an outline effigy of the gentleman whopresided over the lessons of the class was brought to light, and thenames of its perpetrators demanded, Charlie's hand would be seen among aforest of other upraised, ink-stained hands, and he would confess withcontrition to having contributed the left eye of the unlucky portrait. And if, amid the solemn silence which attended a moral discourse fromthe master on the evils of gluttony, a sudden cataract of nuts, apples, turnips, and jam sandwiches on to the floor should drown the good man'svoice, Charlie would be one of the ill-starred wights who owned to apartnership in the bag of good things which had thus miserably burst, and would proceed with shame first to crawl and grope on the dusty floorto collect his contraband possessions, and then solemnly to deposit thesame jam, turnips, and all, on the desk of the offended dominie as aconfiscated forfeit. 

By these and many other like experiences Charlie identified himself withhis comrades, and established many and memorable bonds of sympathy. Hetook the allegiance of his followers and the penalties of his masters inequal good part. He was not the boy to glory in his scrapes, but he wasthe boy to get into them, and once in, no fear of punishment could makea tell-tale, a cheat, or a coward of him. 

With the elder boys he was also a favourite, for what big boy does nottake pride in patronising a plucky, frank youngster? Patronising withCharlie did not mean humiliation. It is true he would quake at times inthe majestic company of the heroes of the Sixth Form, but withouthanging his head or toadying. It is one thing to reverence a fellow-being, and another to kneel and lick his boots. 

Altogether Charlie had what is called "fallen on his feet" atRandlebury. By the end of two months he was as much at home there as ifhe had strutted its halls for two years. His whistle was as shrill asany in the lobbies, and Mrs Packer stuck her fingers in her ears whenhe burst into her parlour to demand a clean collar. He had alreadysignalised himself too on the cricket field, having scored one run (by aleg-bye) in the never-to-be-forgotten match of First Form, First Eleven, against Second-Form, Second Eleven; and he had annihilated theredoubtable Alfred Redhead in the hundred yards hopping match, accomplishing that distance in the wonderfully short time of forty-fiveseconds!

But the dearest of all his friends was Jim Halliday, his lord andmaster's young brother. To Jim, Charlie opened his own soul, and me, and the knife; with Jim he laid his schemes for the future, andarranged, when he was Governor-General of India and Jim was PrimeMinister, he would swop a couple of elephants for one of Ash andTackle's best twenty-foot fishing-rods, with a book of flies complete. With Jim, Charlie talked about home and his father, and the comingholidays, till his face shone with the brightness of the prospect. Norwas the faithful Jim less communicative. He told Charlie all about hissisters down at Dullfield, where his father had once been clergyman, andgave it as his opinion that Jenny was the one Charlie had better marry;and to Charlie he imparted, as an awful secret not to be so much aswhispered to any one, that he (Jim) was going to array his imposingfigure for the first time in a tail-coat at Christmas. 

With two friends on such a footing of confidence, is it a wonder theyclave one to the other in mute admiration and affection? Many asumptuous supper, provided at the imminent peril of embargo by theauthorities on the one hand, and capture by hungry pirates on the other, did they smuggle into port and enjoy in company; on many a half-holidaydid they fish for hours in the same pool, or climb the same tree for thesame nest; what book of Jim's was there (schoolbooks excepted) thatCharlie had not dog's-eared; and was not Charlie's little libraryannotated in every page by Jim's elegant thumbs? In short, these twowere as one. David and Jonathan were nothing to them. 

But in the midst of all his comfort and happiness one continuallyrecurring thought troubled Charlie, that was about Tom Drift. He hadpromised the mother to be a friend to her son, and although he owned tohimself he neither liked nor admired Tom, he could not be easy with thisbroken promise on his mind. 

One day, about a month after the quarrel outside the head master'sstudy, my master, after a hard inward struggle, conceived the desperateresolve of going himself to the lion in his den and seeking areconciliation. 

He walked quickly to Tom's study, for fear his resolution might failhim, and knocked as boldly as he could at the door. 

"Come in!" cried Tom inside. 

Charlie entered, and found his late antagonist sprawling on two chairs, reading a yellow-backed novel. 

At the sight of Charlie he scowled, and looked anything butconciliatory. 

"What do you want?" he said angrily. 

"Oh, Tom Drift!" cried Charlie, plunging at once into his subject, "I dowish you'd be friends; I am so sorry I hurt you. "

This last was an ill-judged reference; Tom was vicious enough about thatbruise on his forehead not to need any reminder of the injuries he hadsustained in that memorable scuffle. 

"Get off with you, you little beast!" he cried. "What do you mean bycoming here?"

"I know I've no business, Tom Drift; but I do so want to be friends, because--because I promised your mother, you know. "

"What do I care what you promised my mother? I don't want you. Come, off you go, or I'll show you the way. "

Charlie turned to go, yet still lingered. A desperate struggle wastaking place, I could feel, within him, and then he stammered out, "Isay, Tom Drift, if you'll only be friends I'll _give_ you my watch. "

Poor boy! Who knows what that offer cost him? it was indeed the dearestbribe he had to give. 

Tom laughed sneeringly. "Who wants your watch, young ass?--a miserable, second-hand, tin ticker; I'd be ashamed to be seen with it. Come, oncemore, get out of here or I'll kick you out!"

Charlie obeyed, miserable and disappointed. 

He could stand being spoken roughly to, he could bear hisdisappointment, but to hear his father's precious gift spoken of as a"miserable, second-hand tin ticker, " was more than he could endure, andhe made his way back to his room conscious of having lost more than hehad gained by this thankless effort at reconciliation. 

"What are you in the sulks about?" inquired Halliday that evening, asCharlie was putting away his lord and master's jam in the cupboard. 

"I don't want to be sulky, " Charlie said, "but I wish I could make it upwith Tom Drift. "

"With who?" exclaimed Joe, who, as we have before observed, was subjectto occasional lapses of grammar. 

"Tom Drift, you know; we had a row the first day. "

"I know, " replied Joe; "about that everlasting watch of yours, wasn'tit?"

"Yes, " said Charlie, "I didn't like to lend it him, because--"

"I know all about that, " said Halliday. "You were squeamish aboutsomething or other he wanted it for. Well, the watch belonged to you, Isuppose, and you aren't obliged to lend it to anybody. What on earth doyou want to go worrying about the thing any more for?"

"I'm not; only I wanted to be friends with Tom Drift. "

"What for?" demanded Joe. 

"Oh, because--because I promised his mother I would be, " pleadedCharlie. 

"All I can say is, you had no business to promise any one to be friendswith a fellow you never saw. "

"But she said he was a nice fellow; and besides he made my watch go whenit had stopped, " added Charlie, as a great argument. 

"Why, Charlie, you are a greater little noodle than I took you for. Every one who calls that precious watch a good name is your master, andyou're his slave. "

"Not so bad as that, Joe, " said Charlie; "but I say, isn't Tom Drift anice boy, then?"

"Isn't he? that's all, " replied the other. "I'm not going to abuse himbehind his back, but take my advice, young un. You are better off asTom's enemy than his friend, and don't you try to make up to him anymore. "

"Why not?" asked Charlie in bewilderment. 

"Never you mind, " was all Joe's reply; "and now hand me down my Liddelland Scott and make yourself scarce. "

Charlie, sorely puzzled, did as he was bid. 

He certainly was not in love with Tom Drift; but it was not easy for himto give up, without an effort, his promise to be his friend. 

Tom, however, was by no means in need of friends. Not many weeks afterthe day when Charlie had left his study, disappointed and miserable, hemight have been seen entertaining company of quite a different sort. 

[My readers, let me here observe, must not be too curious to understandhow it is I am able to speak of so many things which must have takenplace beyond the range of my observation. They will find the reason allin good time. ]

The supper party over which Tom presided consisted of four boys, including himself. One was Shadbolt, on whose account, it will beremembered, Tom had desired to borrow Charlie's watch. Shadbolt was anunwholesome-looking fellow of fifteen, with coarse features and eyesthat could not look you straight in the face if they had tried. He wasaccompanied by his chum Margetson, who certainly had the advantage ofhis friend in looks, as well as in intellect. The quartet was completedby Gus Burke, one of the smallest and most vicious boys at Randlebury. He was the son of a country squire, who had the unenviable reputation ofbeing one of the hardest drinkers and fastest riders in his county; andthe boy had already shown himself only too apt a pupil in the lessons inthe midst of which his childhood had been passed. He had at histongue's tip all the slang of the stables and all the blackguardisms ofthe betting-ring; and boy--almost child--as he was, he affected theswagger and habits of a "fast man, " like a true son of his father. 

At Randlebury he had wrought incredible mischief. Tom Drift was not theonly soft-minded vain boy whom he had infected by his perniciousexample. Like all reckless swaggerers, he had his band of admirers, whomarked every action and drank in every word that fell from their hero'slips. 

It was just with such boys as Drift that his influence was most telling;for Tom was a boy not without aptitude to note and emulate a powerfulexample, whether it were good or bad, while his vanity rendered him aspliant as wax to the hand of the flatterer. 

Such was the party which assembled surreptitiously in Tom's study thatevening and partook of the smuggled supper. 

Tom had had hard work to provide for his guests, and had succeeded onlyat the risk of grave penalties if detected. 

"I say, Tom, old horse, this is a prime spread!" said Gus; "where didyou get it?"

"Oh!" said Tom, "I had a new hat coming from Tiler's, so I got oldTripes (the butcher) to make a neat brown-paper parcel of the kidneys, and got them up in my gossamer. The old donkey might have done thething better though, for the juice squeezed through, and the inside ofmy hat looks as if I had lately been scalped. "

"Hard lines! But never mind, perhaps they'll put it down to the crackyou got on your forehead. "

Tom flushed scarlet; any reference to his inglorious scuffle withCharlie Newcome was odious to him, as Gus and the others knew wellenough. He said nothing, however, only scowled angrily. 

"What!" said Gus, "does it hurt you still then? Never mind, it was agood shot, and I wouldn't be ashamed of having floored you myself. "

"He didn't floor me; I fell!" cried Tom indignantly. 

"Did you? Rather a way fellows have when they get knocked down!"

"I was not knocked down, Gus, I tell you; and you'd better shut up!"

"All right, old horse! you mustn't mind a bit of chaff. I'm sure you'vetaken it all very well. "

"Yes, " said Margetson, "everybody thinks you must take after yourmother; you're such a sweet-tempered chap. "

"What do you know about my mother?" snarled Tom. 

"Only what your young friend tells everybody about her. "

"What business has he to go talking all over the school about myaffairs?" exclaimed Tom furiously. "What's my mother to do with him?"

"A great deal, it seems, " replied Margetson, "for he promised her, onthe strength of her assertion that you were a nice boy, to be yourfriend, and now he's awfully hurt you won't let him. "

"I thought it was Tom who was awfully hurt, " put in Gus, by way ofparenthesis. 

"I tell you what it is, you fellows, " said Tom, "it may be all veryfunny for you, but I've had quite enough of it. Ever since that youngcanting humbug came here I've led the life of a dog. If, instead ofmaking a fool of me, you'd tell me how I can pay him out, I should bebetter pleased. "

"All very fine, " said Margetson; "why don't you pay your own bills?"

"If you want some one to punch his head, " said Shadbolt the ugly, "Idon't mind trying; my life is insured. "

"Suppose we make him stupid, " suggested Gus, "with milk punch, and shovehim inside the doctor's study. "

"Couldn't you get hold of his watch and boil it?" said Margetson, whohad heard of the experiments practised on me in Mrs Packer's parlour. 

"If I got hold of it I'd smash it into fifty pieces!" growled Tombetween his teeth. 

"Look here, you fellows, I've got a glorious plan!" exclaimed Gussuddenly. 

"What is it?" they all cried. 

But Gus's plan requires a new chapter. 

CHAPTER SEVEN. 

HOW A PLEASANT TREAT IN STORE WAS PREPARED FOR MY MASTER. 

Gus proceeded then to divulge his plan for giving Tom Drift his revengeon my master. 

"Let's take him to Gurley races on Saturday, " said he. "You know it's aholiday, and if we can only get him with us, well astonish hissanctimonious young soul. What do you say?"

"You'll never get him to come, " said Margetson. 

"Won't we? Well see about that, " replied Gus, "he needn't know wherehe's going. "

"But even so, " said Drift, "you won't get him; he's not in love with me, and I don't fancy any of you are much in his line. "

"Oh, you'll have to manage that part, Tom. You know how the youngidiot's pining to make it up with you, for your dear old mother's sake!"

"Now you needn't start that nonsense again, " put in Tom sulkily. 

"All right; but don't you see, if you were to take a forgiving fit andmake up to him, and talk about the old lady and his watch, and all that, he'd be out of his wits with joy? and then if you asked him to come fora day's fishing on Saturday, we could meet you somewhere on the road, and then he'd have to come whether he liked or not; and won't weastonish him!"

Tom mused a little. 

"It's not a bad idea, " said he presently, "if it would only work. But Ican't make up to the young puppy as you think. Ten to one I should stopshort in the middle and kick him. "

"That would spoil all the fun. Try it on, any way, it'll be a nicelittle excitement to have young Innocent with us. And now, Tom, whereare blacks and reds; I'm just in the humour for a rubber, aren't you?"

The host produced from a locked desk a dirty and much-worn pack ofcards, and the party sat down to play. 

They played for penny points, and as Gus and Margetson were partners, itis hardly necessary to say that Drift and his ill-looking friend lostevery game. 

Before this amiable and congenial quartet separated, Gus had referredagain to the scheme of getting Charlie to Gurley races, and got Drift topromise he would secure his victim next day. 

Next day, accordingly, as Charlie was in the midst of a desperate gameof fives with his friend Jim, a small boy came to him and said that TomDrift wanted him. 

"What for?" demanded Charlie, who, since his talk with the elderHalliday, had felt somewhat "shy" about Tom. 

"I don't know, " said the boy. 

"Your turn, Charlie, " called out Jim from the end of the court. 

Charlie took his turn while he was revolving on his answer to thismysterious summons. 

"What does that child want?" inquired Jim, with all the loftiness of asecond-form boy speaking of a first. 

"He says Tom Drift wants me. "

"Whew!" whistled Jim, who of course knew the whole mystery of the affairbetween his chum and Tom; "tell him to go to Jericho! Look out foryourself!"

And so saying, he took his turn with the ball. 

"That wouldn't do, " said Charlie; "I don't want to rile him. "

"_I'd_ like to have a chance, " retorted the implacable Jim. "Well, then, tell him you can't come. Here, young un, tell Tom Drift Charliecan't come. Do you hear? Cut your sticks!"

But Charlie called the messenger back. "I _could_, go if I wanted, Jim. Better tell him I'd rather not come. Say that, youngster--I'd rathernot. "

So off the youngster ran, and Charlie and Jim finished their game. Ofcoarse, the youthful messenger gave Tom a full, true, and particularaccount of this conversation in all its details, which rendered thatyoung gentleman rather less eager than ever for his enterprise. However, he had the fear of Gus before his eyes, and strolled out intothe playground on the chance of coming across Charlie. 

And he did come across him, arm-in-arm with the faithful Jim. Tomworked his face into the ghastly similitude of a friendly smile as heapproached, and said, in as genial a voice as he could pretend, "I'mglad I met you, Newcome, because I want to speak to you, if you don'tmind taking a turn round the playground. "

Charlie, of course, was astonished; he had expected at the very least tobe kicked over the wall when he saw Tom approach, and he was utterly ata loss to understand this not unfriendly greeting. Innocent boy! itnever occurred to him the demonstration could be anything but real. Jimwould have been a tougher subject to deal with. Indeed, as he let goCharlie's arm, and saw him walk off with Tom, he muttered to himself, not caring particularly whether the latter heard him or not. 

"Gammon! that's what it is. "

Charlie had not long to wait before his companion began theconversation. 

"I suppose you wonder why I want you, Newcome?" said he. "The fact is, I've been thinking I wasn't altogether right in being down on you theother day about lending me that watch, especially as you were a new boy;and I'm sorry if I hurt you. "

Charlie sprung towards him and caught his arm. 

"Oh, Tom Drift, don't say that, please! It was my fault--all my fault, and I have been so sorry ever since. And you will be friends now, won'tyou? I do so want to be, because I promised your mother--"

Tom gave a quick gesture of impatience, which, if Charlie hadunderstood, he would have known how near receiving a kick he was at thatmoment. 

Tom, however, restrained himself, and said, --

"Oh, yes, for her sake I'd like to be friends, of course, and I hopeyou'll forget all about that wretched quarrel. "

"Indeed I will, " cried Charlie; "and don't let us say any more about it. I am ever so much happier now, and it was so good of you to come to meand make it up. "

"Well, " said Tom loftily, "you know it's no use for two fellows to be atloggerheads when it can be helped, and I dare say we shall get on allthe better now. How are you going on in the second?"

Whereupon Charlie launched into a lengthy and animated account of hisexperiences, to which Tom pretended to listen, but scarcely heard aword. 

"So you are fond of fishing?" he said, casually, after the boy hadmentioned something on that subject. 

"Ain't I, though?" cried Charlie, now quite happy, and his old selfagain. "I say, Tom Drift, would you like to see the new lance-wood topI've got to my rod? It's a stunner, I can tell you. I'll lend it you, you know, any time you like. "

"Have you caught much since you were here!" asked Tom, anxious to getthis hateful business over. 

"No. You know the brook here isn't a good one for fish, and I don'tknow anywhere else near. "

"Well, I'll tell you what, " said Tom, as if the idea had then for thefirst time occurred to him. "Suppose we go off for a regular good dayon Saturday? It's a holiday, you know, and we could go and try up theSharle, near Gurley. There's lots of trout there, and we are certain tohave a good day. "

"How jolly!" exclaimed Charlie. "It would be grand. But I say, TomDrift, are you sure you wouldn't mind coming? It wouldn't be a botherto you, would it?"

"Not a bit. I like a good day's fishing. But, I say, young un, you'dbetter not say anything about it to any one, or we shall have a swarm offellows come too, and that will spoil all the sport. "

"All right, " said Charlie. "I say what a day we shall have! I'll bringmy watch and knife, you know, and some grub, and we can picnic there, eh?"

"That'll be splendid. Well, I must go in now, so good-bye, Newcome, andshake hands. "

What a grip was that! on one side all trust and fervour, and on theother all fraud and malice!

Tom Drift was not yet utterly bad. Would that he had allowed hisconscience to speak and his better self prevail! Half a dozen times inthe course of his walk from the playground to the school he repented ofthe wicked part he was playing in the scheme to injure Charlie. Buthalf a dozen times the thought of Gus and his taunts, and therecollection of his own bruised forehead came to drive out all passingsentiments of pity or remorse. 

Charlie rejoined his chum with a beaming face. 

"Well, " asked Jim, "what has he been saying to humbug you this time?"

"Nothing very particular; and I won't let you call him a humbug. I say, Jim, old boy, he's made it up at last, and we're friends, Tom Drift andI! Hurrah! I was never so glad, isn't it jolly?"

Jim by no means shared his friend's enthusiasm. Like his elder brother, he instinctively disliked Tom Drift, without exactly being able to givea reason. 

His reserve, however, had no effect on Charlie's high spirits. At lastthe wish of his heart had been gained! No longer did he walk with theburden of a broken promise weighting his neck; no longer did theconsciousness of having an enemy oppress him. 

"Simpleton!" many of my readers will exclaim. Perhaps he was; but evenif you laugh at him, I think you will hardly despise him for his simple-mindedness, for who would not rather be such a one than the tempter, TomDrift?

All that week he was jubilant. Boys looked round in astonishment at theshrillness of his whistle and the ring of his laughter. His corner ofthe class room was a simple Babel, and the number of apples he bestowedin charity was prodigious. 

Something, every one could see, had happened to make him happier thanever. Few knew what that something was, and fewer still knew what itmeant. 

"What are you up to to-morrow?" asked the elder Halliday of his fag onthe Friday evening. 

"Fishing, " briskly replied the boy. 

"You're for ever fishing, " said Joe. "I suppose that young brother ofmine is going with you?"

"No; Jim's going to play in the match against the Badgers. "

The "Badgers, " let me explain, was the name of a scratch cricket elevenmade up of boys in the first, second and third forms. 

"Are you going alone, then?"

Charlie felt uncomfortable as he answered, --

"No. "

"Whom are you going with?" pursued the inquiring Joe. 

"A fellow in the fifth who asked me to come. "

"What's his name?"

Charlie had no help for it now. 

"Tom Drift, " he faltered. 

"Tom Drift! I thought you and he were at loggerheads. "

"Oh, don't you know we've made it up? He was awfully kind about it, andsaid he was sorry, when it was really my fault, and we shook hands, andto-morrow we are going to fish in a place he knows where there's no endof trout. "

"Where's that?"

"He didn't want me to tell, for fear everybody should come and spoil thesport; but I suppose I can tell you, though; it's up the Sharle, nearGurley. "

"Humph! I've fished there before now. Not such a wonderful lot offish, either. "

"I suppose you won't be there to-morrow?" asked Charlie nervously, afraid of losing the confidence of Tom Drift by attracting strangers tohis waters. 

"Not if I know it, " replied Joe. "I say, youngster, I thought you hadgiven up the notion of making up to that fellow?"

"I didn't make up to him, only I can't be sorry to be friends withhim--"

"Well, I hope you won't be sorry now you've done it. Take care whatyou're about, that's all. "

Charlie was again perplexed to understand why Halliday seemed to havesuch a dislike to poor Tom. 

Just as he was going off to bed Joe stopped him and asked, --

"By the way, shall you be using your watch to-morrow?"

"Well, I promised I'd take it, to see how the time went; but I dare saywe could do without it, and I would like to lend it to you, Halliday. "

"Not a bit of it, " replied the other. "I can do without it as well asyou. I am going to walk over to Whitstone Woods and back. "

"Hullo, that's a long trot, " said Charlie. "It must be nearly thirtymiles. "

"Something like that, " said Joe. "Walcot and I are going to make a dayof it. "

"Which way do you go?"

"Through Gurley, and then over Rushton Common and past Slingcomb. "

"Never! I wish I could do thirty miles at a stretch. "

"So you will some day. Good-night. "

And Charlie went to bed, to dream of the lance-wood top of his rod andthe trout in the Sharle. 

In the meanwhile the conspirators had had another meeting in Drift'sden. 

"Well, have you hooked him?" asked Gus. 

"Yes; it's all right. He took it all in like a lamb. "

"And all the school, " said Margetson, "is talking of the greatreconciliation, and the gratification which that event will undoubtedlyafford to your venerable mother. "

"Shut up, will you, Margetson? I've had quite enough of that chaff. "

"But I do assure you, Tom--"

"That'll do, " said Tom, snappishly; and Margetson did not go the lengthof saying what it was he was so ready to assure him of. 

"Well, " said Gus, "we'll meet you and the young cub at the cross roadsby Sharle Bridge. The races don't begin till twelve, so we shall havelots of time. I mean to see if we can't get a trap at Gurley, and dothe thing in style. What do you say? We could get one for about tenbob. "

"All serene, " said Margetson. "I'll fork out my share. "

"You'll pay for me, Tom, " said Shadbolt, "won't you?"

"I'll see, " said Tom. 

"All right, that's settled; and you are seeing about grub, Tom, aren'tyou? Don't forget the etceteras. What time have you told young mooney-face?"

"Nine. He's sure to be in time. "

"Well, we'll start a little before, you know, and meet you quite byaccident, and the young beggar won't smell a rat till we are safe inGurley. "

"And if he turns cantankerous?"

"Then we can put Shaddy to look after him. "

"Who's going to win the Gulley Plate, Gus?"

And then the party fell to canvassing the entries for the morrow'sraces, and making their bets, in which, of course, Tom stood almostbound to lose, whichever horse won. 

Long ere they had parted company Charlie was sound asleep and dreaming, with me under his pillow. 

CHAPTER EIGHT. 

HOW MY MASTER DID NOT CATCH THE FISH HE EXPECTED. 

About ten years before the time of my story it had happened that in afamous battle fought between her Majesty's troops and those of a hostileand savage king, the colours of the 300th Regiment were noticed to be inimminent peril of capture. The ensign who carried them was wounded, andalready a score of the enemy were rushing forward to seize the prize andcarry it off in triumph to their king. Suddenly, however, there dashedup to the spot a young cornet of dragoons, who, seeing the peril of hisfellow-officer and the colours he carried, dragged him, flag and all, upnearly into his own saddle, and started off with his precious burdentowards a place of shelter from the fire and spears of the savages. Before, however, he had gone twenty yards the poor ensign tumbled to theground, shot through the heart, yielding with his dying hands hiscolours to the dragoon. That plucky young soldier, wrapping the tornand stained flag round his body, set his teeth, stooped forward in hissaddle, and, digging his spurs into his horse, galloped for his life. He had a terrific gauntlet to run, and grandly he ran it. The friendlytrench was in sight, the cheers of his comrades fell like music on hisears, a vision of glory and honour flashed through his mind, and thensuddenly he reeled forward in his seat--a malignant shot had found himout at last, and, with the colours round him, he dropped from his horseinto his comrades' arms a dead man. 

This hero was an old Randlebury boy; and ever since that day, on everyanniversary of his glorious death, Randlebury kept, and still keeps, holiday. 

All this Charlie was informed of by his faithful chum, Jim Halliday, asthe former was dressing himself on the morning of the eventful holidayin question. 

What possessed him to get up at six, when he was not to start till nine, I cannot say. He even routed me from under his pillow at five, sofidgety was he, and as soon as ever I pointed to six he bounced out ofbed as if he was shot. 

"What are you up to, getting up at this time?" growled Jim, who, much tothe mutual delight of the boys, slept in the same room with Charlie. 

"Oh, you know; I don't want to be behindhand, " replied Charlie. 

"Behindhand! Why, do you know it's only just six?"

"I know that, and I mean to make the most of my holiday. I say, Jim, what do they want to give us a holiday for, do you know?"

"They don't want to at all; they've got to. "

"Got to? What do you mean?" inquired Charlie, dragging on his boots. 

And then Jim, with many yawns and growls, told him the story; and, without waiting for his comments thereon, rolled over and went off tosleep again. 

Charlie spent his early hour in polishing up things generally. When hehad polished up his rod with the lance-wood top, he polished up hisgreen can and his hooks. Then he warmed me up with a piece of wash-leather, and then his many-fanged knife. 

By the time these little jobs were accomplished, and Joe's study put inorder, the breakfast bell sounded, and he went down with a mouth sorewith whistling. 

He caught sight of Tom Drift at another table, and nodded and waved hisgreen can to him; he informed every boy within hearing distance that itwas certain to be a fine day, whatever it looked like now; and he madethe wildest and most indiscriminate promises to entertain his wholeacquaintance at no end of a trout supper on the spoils of that day'ssport. Twenty times during breakfast did he pull me out and lookimpatiently at my minute-hand slowly making its way from eight to nine;and as soon as ever the meal was over he rushed upstairs like mad forhis rod and bag, and then tore down again four steps at a time, nearlyknocking the head master over at the bottom. 

"Gently, my man, " said that gentleman, recognising in this cannon-ballof a young fellow his little travelling companion. "Why, what's thematter?"

"I beg your pardon, doctor, " said Charlie; "did I hurt you?"

"Not a bit. So you are going to fish to-day?"

"Yes, sir, " said the beaming Charlie. "I say, sir, do you think it'llbe a fine day?"

"I hope so--good-bye. I suppose this can will be full when you comeback?"

"Good-bye, sir, " said Charlie, secretly resolving that if fortunefavoured him he would present the two finest of his trout to the doctor. 

He found Drift ready for him when he reached that young gentleman'sstudy. 

Besides his rod, Tom had a somewhat cumbersome bag, which, as it carriedmost of the provisions for the whole party, he was not a little surlyabout being burdened with. 

Charlie, of course, thought it was his and Tom's dinner. 

"Is that the grub?" he cried. "Why, Tom Drift, you have been laying ina spread! What a brick you are! Look here, I'd carry it--isn't it aweight, though! If we get all this inside us two we shan't starve!"

And so they started, Charlie lugging along the bag and whistling like alark. 

"Looks cloudy, " said Tom, who felt he must say something or other. 

"Never mind, all the better for the trout, you know. I say, I wish Ihad my fly on the water this minute. "

As Tom was silent, Charlie kept up the conversation by himself. 

"I say, Tom Drift, " said he, "if your mother could only see us two chapsgoing off for a day's fishing she--"

"Look here, draw it mild about my mother, young un. She can take careof herself well enough. "

Charlie blushed to the roots of his hair at this rebuke, and for sometime the flow of his conversation was arrested. 

It was a good four miles from Randlebury to Sharle Bridge; and long erethey reached it Charlie's arm ached with the ponderous bag he wascarrying. He did not, however, like to say anything, still less to askTom to take a turn at carrying it; so he plodded on, changing handsevery few minutes, and buoying himself up with the prospect of the riverand the trout. 

Presently they came within sight of the signpost which marks thejunction of the Gurley and Sharle Bridge roads. 

"Here we are at last!" cried Charlie, panting and puffing. "I say, TomDrift, I don't believe I could have carried this bag any farther if I'dtried. "

"It'll be lighter when we go home. Hullo! who are these three?" for atthis moment Gus, Margetson, and Shadbolt made their appearance. 

"They look like Randlebury fellows by their caps. Oh, I know who one ofthem is, " added Charlie-- "Margetson, in the fourth; don't you knowhim?"

"Rather!" replied Tom; "and the other two are Shaddy and Gus. Who'dhave thought of meeting _them_!" and he gave a whistle, which succeededin attracting the attention of the worthy trio. 

Of course their surprise at meeting Tom and his companion was no lessgreat--in fact, they had to inquire who the youngster was. 

"Where are you off to?" demanded Gus. 

"We're going to try our luck up the Sharle, " said Tom. 

"You'll be sold if you do, " said Gus. "We were down looking at it, anda pretty state it's in. Old Skinner at the Tannery took it into hishead to leave his gates up last night, and his muck has got into theriver and poisoned every fish in it--hasn't it, Shad?"

"Rather!" replied Shad. "I was glad enough to get my nose away from theplace. "

"Here's a go, Charlie!" said Tom, turning to his young companion. 

During this short conversation Charlie had passed through all theanguish of a bitter disappointment. It is no light thing to have thehope of days snuffed out all in a moment, and he was ready to cry withvexation. However it couldn't be helped, and he had learned before nowhow to take a disappointment like a man. So when Tom appealed to him heput a good face on it, and said, --

"Awful hard lines. Never mind, let's go back and see the match with theBadgers, Tom. "

"Why don't you come with us?" asked Gus. "We are going to Gurley; haveyou ever been to Gurley, young un?"

"No, " said Charlie. 

"Come along, then, we'll show it you. It's a prime town, isn't it, Margetson?"

"Don't ask me, " said Margetson; "I'd sooner see about Gurley than catcha seven-pounder, any day. "

"And besides, " said Tom, "isn't there some good fishing above the lock!Come along, Charlie; we shall not be baulked of our day's sport afterall. "

Charlie joined the party, although he did not conceive any greatadmiration for Tom's three friends. His anxiety not to offend his nowreconciled enemy, and the possibility of fishing after all, overruledhim; and still dragging the bag, he trudged along with the otherstowards Gurley. 

As they approached the town he could not help noticing the number ofholiday-makers and vehicles that passed them. There were drags full ofgaily-dressed ladies; and gentlemen who wore veils; and there were lightjaunty dog-carts with spruce young white-hatted gentlemen perched inthem; there were vans in which corks were popping like musketry firesand parties on foot like themselves, hurrying forward with loud laughterand coarse music. 

"Surely, " thought he, "there's something on at Gurley. "

Presently a waggonette, driven by a very loud youth in a check suit, andwith an enormous cigar in his mouth, pulled up in passing, and itsdriver addressed Gus. 

"So you've found _your_ way here, have you, my young bantam? Catch_you_ being out of a good thing. Are you going on the grand stand?"

"Don't know, " said Gus grandly. "We may pick up a trap in the town. "

"Ho, ho! going to do it flash, are you? Well, there's one of you coulddo with a little spice, " added he, glancing at Charlie. "I suppose mytrap's not grand enough for you. "

"Can you give us a lift, then, Bill?" asked Gus, charmed at the idea. 

"Yes, to be sure; I've no company to-day. There's just room. Hop in. I may as well turn an honest penny as not. Here, you young sinner, jumpup beside me on the box. " And before Charlie knew where he was orwhither he was going he found himself on the box of the waggonettebeside the flash youth, and his four friends behind him inside. 

"Who's your friend, Gus?" he heard Margetson ask. 

"Son of Belsham, who keeps the `Green Tiger' at Randlebury. We're inluck, I can tell you, you fellows. "

As Charlie gradually recovered from his bewilderment he felt himselfextremely uncomfortable and ill at ease. From what had been said he hadgathered that the object of the boys in going to Gurley was somethingmore than to see the town; and he by no means liked Gus's new friend, orapproved of his easy familiarity with a low publican's son. It was notlong before his dawning suspicions were fully confirmed. 

"So you're going to see the races?" asked Mr Belsham. 

"No, I'm not, " replied Charlie, as curtly as he could, for he had nodesire to encourage the conversation of this objectionable person. 

"Ain't you? And what are you going to do, then, my young lamb?" And inthe course of this brief sentence Mr Belsham succeeded in interjectingat least three oaths. 

"I shan't speak to you if you swear, " said Charlie; "it's wrong toswear. "

"No! is it? Who says that?"

"My father says so, " blurted out Charlie, fully satisfied that no betterreason could be demanded. 

Belsham laughed, and turning to the four inside, said, --

"I say, young gentlemen, this young pippin tells me he's got a fatherwho says it's wrong to swear. What do you think of that?"

"His father must be an amusing man, " replied Gus. 

"Wait till we get on to the course, " said Margetson; "he'll hearsomething to astonish him there, young prig!"

"I'm not going to the races!" cried my master, starting from his seat, and now fully alive to the fraud of which he had been made the victim. "How could you do this, Tom Drift! Let me down, will you!" and hestruggled so desperately with Belsham that that gentleman was obliged tolet go the reins in order to hold him. 

Of course it was no use his resisting. Amid the shouts and jeers of hisschoolfellows he was held on to the box. In vain he pleaded, besought, struggled, threatened; there he was compelled to stay, all throughGurley and out to the racecourse. Here he found himself in the midst ofa yelling, blaspheming, drunken multitude, from the sight of whose facesand the sound of whose words his soul revolted so vehemently that itlent new vigour to his exhausted frame, and urged him to one lastdesperate struggle to free himself and escape from his tormentors. 

"Look here, " said Belsham to Gus; "if you suppose I'm going to have allmy fun spoiled by looking after this cub of yours while you're enjoyingyourselves there inside, you're mistaken; here, look after himyourselves. "

So saying, he dragged Charlie from his seat and swung him down into thewaggonette with such force that he lay there half stunned and incapableof further resistance, and so for the time being saved his persecutors agood deal of trouble. 

And indeed had it been otherwise it is hardly likely they would havejust then been able to pay him much attention, for at that moment thehorses were all drawn up at the starting-post, waiting for the signal togo. 

That was a feverish moment for Tom Drift. He had bet all his money onone horse, and if that horse did not win, he would lose every penny ofit. 

As usual, he had repented a hundred times of that day's business, andthe last brutal outrage on poor Charlie had called up even in his searedbreast a fleeting feeling of indescribable shame. It was, alas! onlyfleeting. 

Next moment he forgot all but the horses. There they stood in a longrestless line. A shout! and they were off. In the first wild scramblehe could catch a sight of the colours on which his hopes depended nearthe front. On they came like the wind. A man near shouted the name ofTom's horse--"It's winning, " and Tom's head swam at the sound. On stillnearer, and now they have passed. In the retreating, straggling crowdhe can see his horse still, but it seems to be going back instead offorward. Like a torrent the others overhaul and pass it. Then a loudershout than usual proclaims the race over, and the favourite beaten, andTom staggers down to his seat sick and half stupid. 

"Never mind, old man, " he heard Gus say, "luck's against you this time;you'll have your turn some day. Take some of this, man, and never saydie. "

And Tom, reckless in his misery, took the proffered bottle, and drankdeeply. 

It was late in the afternoon before Belsham thought of turning hishorse's head homeward, and by that time Charlie, on the floor of thewaggonette, was slowly beginning to recover consciousness. 

CHAPTER NINE. 

HOW MY MASTER AND I HAD QUITE AS MUCH EXCITEMENT IN ONE AFTERNOON AS WASGOOD FOR US. 

Just as they were turning to go, a sudden shout and rush of peoplearrested them. The crowd on the course had been immense, and of theroughest and lowest description: sharpers, thieves, and roughs werethere by the hundred, attracted from the neighbouring villages by theopportunity of plunder and riot which Gurley races always afforded. Assoon as the serious business of the racing was over, this low mobnaturally sought excitement of their own making, and increasing indisorder and intemperance as the day wore on, had become beyond controljust about the time when Mr Belsham, junior, took it into his muddledhead to make a start in the direction of home. The shout which kept himwhere he was, was occasioned by that spectacle dear to the eyes of allblackguards, a fight. Round the two blood and dust-stained combatants, the mob surged and yelled. Every moment it grew denser and wilder; andevery moment it swayed nearer and nearer to the spot where theRandlebury boys stood in their waggonette; and before they could move orget clear, they found themselves in the very centre of the mob. Shouts, shrieks, and wild laughter rose on every side of them; some of the crowdscrambled up onto their wheels to get a glimpse of the pugilists; someabused and swore at them for getting in the way; some tried to invadetheir waggonette, and struck at them when they resisted. 

In the midst of all, Belsham's horse took fright. There was a wildplunge, a shriek from the crowd in front, and next moment the five boyswere thrown down among the crowd, while the horse, with the shatteredand overturned vehicle behind him, forced for himself a ghastly lanethrough the mob. 

Of Gus and his three friends, Charlie, whom the shock roused to suddenconsciousness, could see nothing. He tried to rise, but the crowdpressed too wildly to give him the chance. For some moments he layamong a host of crowding, struggling feet, expecting every moment to bestunned, if not killed. But by a wonderful providence he escaped theperil. The crowd gave a sudden swing in a new direction, and he wasleft unhurt, though stupefied and almost unable to stir. 

Presently he was conscious of a man standing in front of him. 

"Oh, help me!" gasped my poor master. 

The man seized him roughly by the arm and raised him to his feet. 

"That's worth a tip, " he growled; "come, hand over. "

Charlie put his hand in his pocket and drew out a shilling. 

The man scowled. 

"Do you suppose I'll take a dirty shilling? Come, young swell, emptyout them pockets. Look sharp, I've no time to waste on the like ofyou. "

Tremblingly Charlie obeyed, and gave the man all the little stock ofmoney he possessed. 

But he was not yet to escape. From under his jacket the greedy eye ofthe thief had caught a glimpse of a chain. With a rough hand he toreopen the coat. "What, a ticker? Here's luck; out with it, come. "

"Oh, " cried Charlie, "take anything but that! Take my chain and myknife, but not my watch?"

Hardly and brutally laughed the man as he snatched me out of the poorboy's hand, and administering a parting cuff on the head of his victim, turned to walk off with me in the recesses of one of his filthy pockets. 

Scarcely, however, had he turned, when three men appeared in front ofhim, coming in the direction of Charlie. The boy saw them, and imaginehis joy when in one of the party he recognised his old acquaintance, thecabman Jim! With a sudden bound and cry of delight he rushed towardshim, shouting and pointing to the robber. "Oh, Jim, he's taken mywatch; get my watch back, Jim. "

Jim took in the state of affairs in an instant, and calling on his twocompanions to follow him, rushed upon and secured the thief before thelatter was even aware of their intention. It was vain for one man toresist three. He was forced to disgorge first me, then the knife, andthen the money. Charlie indeed pleaded that they should leave him themoney, or some of it, but this proposal Jim scouted, and in his zealrelieved the robber of a good deal more than he had stolen from Charlie. Then with kicks and blows they drove the wretch away as fast as hislegs could carry him. 

This done, Jim the cabman had an opportunity of renewing hisacquaintance with my master. 

"Well, " said he, "who'd have thought of seeing _you_ here? And what anice mess you're in. You look as if--"

"Oh, don't, " cried Charlie, holding him by the arm; "it's bad enough asit is, without you thinking ill of me. "

And then he told him as well as he could how he had been decoyed tothese vile races; how he had been kept there by main force; how he hadbeen made senseless by their rough treatment, and how, but for Jim'stimely help, he would now have been robbed and helpless. 

Jim listened in astonishment, not unmingled with many an ejaculation ofindignation at the poor boy's persecutors. 

"And where are they now?" he asked, when Charlie had done. 

"I don't know. We were all thrown out, you know, among the crowd. Ionly hope they've not been killed. "

"Well, if I was you, " said the downright cabman, "I wouldn't break myheart over them. I know _I'd_ like to have a chance of a quiet talkwith the young swells; _I'd_ give them something to take home with them, I would. "

Charlie said nothing, but gratefully put himself under the protection ofhis deliverer, who, making a considerable round to avoid the crush, ledhim safely to Gurley. 

"There's no trap to be got for love or money, so you'll just have towalk if you want to get back to Randlebury to-night. "

Anything to get away from that odious crowd. If the distance had beentwice as far, Charlie would have undertaken it. 

It was long enough, however, before they got away from the crowd. Theroad from Gurley to Sharle Bridge was alive for a mile and more withvehicles, drunken men and women, beggars and pickpockets. On eitherside of the road were jugglers, and thimble-riggers, and card-sharpers, who each attracted their crowd of simpletons. Many were the fights andriots that attended these eager assemblages. As they passed one booth, the headquarters of a blustering card-sharper, a sudden disturbancearose which threatened to block the entire road. The man had offered asovereign to any one of his audience who could tell which of three cardshe held uppermost in his hand. One voice called out a number. The manshuffled his cards, and by some slip on his part the guess of thespeculator turned out correct. Instantly that youth demanded hissovereign, which the man refused, vowing and calling others to witnessthat another number had been guessed. 

"I'll bring the police, " cried the voice, and instantly there was amovement in the group as of some one endeavouring to force his way out. 

"Knock him over!" some one cried; "he's only one of them donkeyschoolboys. What business have they here at all?" And at the signaltwo or three of the juggler's accomplices made a dash at the retreatingyouth and seized him. 

"Souse him in the river!" cried somebody else. 

"Sit on him!" shouted a third. 

In the midst of these contradictory advices the roughs lifted theirstruggling victim from his feet, and proceeded to carry him in thedirection of the bridge. 

In the momentary glimpse which Charlie got of the wretched object ofthis persecution, he recognised, to his horror and astonishment, TomDrift, livid with terror, frantic with rage, and yelling with pain. 

"Jim, " cried Charlie, "that's Tom Drift! Oh! can't we help him? Willyou try, Jim! Poor Tom!"

"Is he one of them four as brought you here?" asked Jim, not offering tomove. 

"Yes; but never mind that; they will drown him; see how furious theyare! Will you help him, Jim?"

"Not a bit of me, " replied the stubborn Jim, who was well content to seethe tables turned on one who had so brutally ill-treated his youngcompanion. 

"Then I must try myself;" and so saying, the boy of thirteen rushed inamong the crowd, and wildly tried to make his way to where hisschoolfellow was being dragged by his persecutors. 

Of course Jim had nothing for it but to back him up, and in a moment hewas beside my young master. 

"Let the boy be!" he shouted to those who carried Drift, in a voice soloud that for a moment the rabble stood quiet to hear. 

In the midst of this silence Charlie shouted, --

"Hold on, Tom Drift, we'll help you if we can. "

Instantly the crowd took up the name. 

"Tom Drift! Yah! Souse Tom Drift! Roll Tom Drift in the mud! Yah!Tom Drift!"

And sure enough Tom Drift would have suffered the penalty prepared forhim, despite Charlie's attempt at rescue, had not help come at thatmoment from a most unexpected quarter. 

It will be remembered that Joe Halliday and his friend Walcot hadplanned a long walk on this holiday to Whitstone Woods, some ten milesbeyond Gurley. 

This plan they had duly carried out, and were now making the best oftheir way back to Randlebury along the crowded highway, when the suddencry of a schoolfellow's name startled them. 

"Tom Drift! Yah! Beggarly schoolboy!"

"I say, Joe, that's one of our fellows! What's happening?"

Joe accosted a passer-by. 

"What's going on?" he inquired. 

"They're only going to souse a young chap in the river. "

"What for?"

"I don't know; 'cause he don't think the same as old Shuffle, the three-card chap. "

"We must do something, Joe, " said Walcot. 

"I wish it were any other chap; but come on, we're in for it now, " saidJoe. 

And with that these two broad-shouldered, tall fellows dashed into thethick of the fray. 

Tom's bearers were now at the bridge, which was a low one, and wereturning down towards the water's edge, when a new cry arrested them. 

"Now, Randlebury! Put it on, Randlebury! Who backs up Randlebury?"

It was the old familiar cry of the football field, and at the sound ofthe well-known voices, Charlie's heart leapt for joy. 

"I do!" he shouted, with all his might. "Here you are, Randlebury!"

And Jim's gruff voice took up the cry too. 

A panic set in among the blackguards. To them it seemed that the schoolwas come in force to rescue their comrade, for on either side the cryrose, and fighting towards them they could, see at any rate two stalwartfigures, who, they concluded, were but the leaders of following force. One of the men was hardy enough to turn at bay at the moment Walcot hadcleared his way at last up to the front. Big bully though he was, hewas no match for the well-conditioned, active athlete who faced him, andWalcot punished him in a manner that made him glad enough to take to hisheels as fast as he could. 

This exploit turned the day. Dropping Tom--how and where they did notstay to consider--they followed their retreating companion with all thespeed they were capable of, and left the enemy without another blowmasters of the situation. 

But if, as a victory, this charge of the Randlebury boys had beensuccessful, as a rescue it had failed; for Tom Drift, being literallydropped from the shoulders of his executioners, had fallen first on tothe parapet of the bridge, and then with a heavy shock into the stonystream beneath. When Walcot, Joe, Charlie, and Jim among them, went topull him out, he was senseless. At first they thought him merelystunned by the fall (the stream was only a few inches deep), butpresently when they began to lift him, they found that his right arm, onwhich he had fallen, was broken. 

Bandaging the limb as well as they could, and bathing his forehead withwater, they succeeded in restoring Tom to consciousness, and then, between them, carried him as gently as possible to the nearest house, when they managed, with some difficulty, to get a vehicle to convey themthe rest of their journey. It was a sad, silent journey. To Tom, thepain caused by every jolt was excruciating. They did their best to easehim, holding him lying across their knees, while Jim drove along thelevel footpath; but by the time the school was reached the sufferer wasagain insensible, and so he remained till the surgeon had set his arm. 

Thus ended the eventful holiday. 

Before Charlie went to bed, the doctor sent for him to his study, andthere required to know the true history of that day's doings. AndCharlie told him all. I need hardly say that, according to his version, the case against the four culprits was far lighter than had theirimpeachment been in other hands. He took to himself whatever blame hecould, and dwelt as little as possible on the plot that had been laid toget him to Gurley, and on the means which had been used to keep him whenonce there. He finished up with a very warm and pathetic appeal for TomDrift. 

"Don't, please, expel Tom Drift, " he said, in all the boldness ofgenerosity; "he was led on by the others, sir, and he's punished badlyenough as it is. Oh! sir, if you'd seen his mother cry, when she onlyspoke of him, you couldn't do it. "

"You must leave that to me, " said the doctor sternly, "I hope I shall donothing that is unjust or unkind. And now go to bed, and thank God forthe care He has taken of you to-day. "

And Charlie went. 

Tom Drift was not expelled. For weeks he lay ill, and during that timeno nurse was more devoted, and no companion more constant, than CharlieNewcome. A friendship sprang up between the two, strangely in contrastwith the old footing on which they had stood. No longer was Tom thevain, hectoring patron, but the docile penitent, over whose spiritCharlie's character began from that time to exercise an influence which, if in the time to come it could always have worked as it did now, wouldhave gone far to save Tom Drift from many a bitter fall and experience. 

When Tom, a week before the Christmas holidays, left the sick-room andtook his place once more in his class, Gus, Margetson, and Shadbolt wereno longer inmates of Randlebury School. 

CHAPTER TEN. 

HOW I CHANGED HANDS AND QUITTED RANDLEBURY. 

And now, dear reader, we must take a leap together of three years. Forremember, I am not setting myself to record the life of any one person, or the events which happened at any one place. I am writing my ownlife--or those parts of it which are most memorable--and therefore itbehoves me not to dwell unduly on times and scenes in which I was notpersonally interested. 

I had a very close connection with the events that rendered Charlie'sfirst term at school so exciting, but after that, for three years, Ipursued the even tenor of my way, performing some twenty-six thousandtwo hundred and eighty revolutions, unmarked by any incident, either inmy own life or that of my master worthy of notice. 

By the end of those three years, however, things were greatly changed atRandlebury. Charlie, not far from his sixteenth birthday, was now atall, broad-shouldered fellow, lording it in the Upper Fifth, and thehero of the cricket field of which he himself had once been a cadet. Inface he was not greatly altered. Still the old curly head and brighteyes. He _was_ noticed occasionally to stroke his chin abstractedly;and some envious detractors went so far as to rumour that, in the lowestrecesses of his trunk he had a razor, wherewith on divers occasions, indread secret, he operated with slashing effect. Be this as it might, Charlie was growing up. He had a fag of his own, who alternately quakedand rejoiced beneath his eye; he wore a fearful and wonderful stick-upcollar on Sundays, and, above all, he treated me with a carelessindifference which contrasted wonderfully with his former enthusiasm, and betokened only too significantly the advance of years on his younghead. 

True, he wound me up regularly; but he often left me half the day underhis pillow; and though once in a fit of artistic zeal he set himself tohew out a C. N. In startling characters on my back, with the point of abodkin, he never polished me now as he was once wont to do. 

All this was painful to me, especially the operation with the bodkin, but I still rejoiced to call him master, and to know that though yearshad changed his looks, and sobered his childish exuberance, the sametrue heart still beat close to mine, and remained still as warm andguileless as when little Charlie Newcome, with me in his pocket, firstput his foot forth into the world. 

There were two besides myself who could bear witness at the end of thesethree years that time had not changed the boy's heart. These two, Ineed hardly say, were Tom Drift and Jim Halliday. 

To Tom, Charlie had become increasingly a friend of the true kind. Eversince the day at Gurley races, the influence of the younger boy hadgrown and overshadowed the elder, confirming his unstable resolutions, animating his sluggish mind with worthy ambitions, and giving to hispliant character a tone coloured by his own honesty and uprightness. Just as a pilot will safely steer the ship amid shoals and rocks outinto the deeper waters, so Charlie, by his quiet influence, had givenTom's life a new direction towards honour and usefulness. 

Once, and once only, during those three years had he shown a dispositionto hark back on his old discreditable ways, and that was the result of acasual meeting with Gus one summer during the holidays, with whom, heafterwards confessed to Charlie, he was induced to forget for a time hisbetter resolutions in the snares of a billiard-room. But thebacksliding was repented of almost as soon as committed, and, toCharlie's anxious eyes, appeared to leave behind no bad result. 

Jim was the same downright outspoken boy as ever. He had yielded, surlily at first, to the admission of Tom Drift into the confidence andfriendship of himself and his chum, but by degrees, moved by Charlie'sexample, he had become more hearty, and now these three boys were thefirmest friends in Randlebury. 

One day, as Charlie was sitting in his study attempting, with manygroans, to make sense out of a very obscure passage in Cicero, his fagentered and said, --

"Newcome, there's a parcel for you down at Trotter's. "

"Why didn't you bring it up, you young muff?" inquired his lord. 

"Because it's got to be signed for, and he wouldn't let me do that foryou. "

"Like your cheek to think of such a thing. What's it like?"

"Oh, it's in a little box. I say, Newcome, shall we go and get it?"

"I can't go at present; it'll wait, I suppose, " said Charlie, with theair of a man who was daily in the habit of receiving little boxes by thecarrier. 

But for all that he could not wholly conceal his curiosity. 

"What size box?" he asked presently. 

"About the size of a good big pill-box. "

"All that? I dare say I can fetch that up by myself, " said Charlie. 

Size of a large pill-box! It could not be anything so very importantafter all. So he turned again to his Cicero, and sent the fag about hisbusiness. 

Presently, however, that youth returned with a letter for Charlie. Itran thus:

 "Dear Young Scamp, "People always say bachelor uncles are fools, and I think they are right. I've sent you a proof of my folly in a little box, which ought to reach you about the same time as this letter. You've done nothing to deserve a present from me, and a box on the ears would be much better bestowed. Never mind. Take care of this little gift for me, in memory of the jolly Christmas you and I last spent together, and when you are not kicking up a row with your cronies at Randlebury or have nothing better to do, think of your affectionate

 "Uncle Ralph. "

Much to the fag's astonishment, Charlie, having perused this letter, slammed up Cicero, and seizing the cap from off his (the fag's) head, asbeing most ready to hand, dashed out of school in the direction of thevillage. 

"Trot!" he exclaimed, as he reached the establishment of that familiarmerchant, "hand up that little box, you old villain! Do you hear?"

The long-suffering Trotter, to whom this address was comparativelypolite in its phraseology, was not long in producing the parcel, inacknowledgment of which Charlie gave his sign manual in lordlycharacters upon the receipt; and then, burning with impatience, yettrying hard to appear unconcerned, walked swiftly back to the school. 

The fag was hanging about his study, scarcely less curious than himself. 

"Hook it!" cried his master, putting the parcel down on the table andtaking out his penknife to cut the string. 

Still the inquisitive fag lingered. Whereupon Charlie, taking himkindly yet firmly by the collar of his coat, conveyed him to the openwindow, whence he gently dropped him a distance of six feet to theearth. 

Privacy being thus secured, he turned again to his parcel and opened it. Imagine his delight and my agony when there came to light a splendidgold watch and chain! I turned faint with jealousy, and when a secondglance showed me that the interloper was no other than the identicalgold repeater whom I had known and dreaded in my infancy, I was ready tobreak my mainspring with vexation. To me the surprise had broughtnothing but foreboding and despair, and already I felt myself discardedfor my rival; but to Charlie it brought a rapture of delight whichexpressed itself in a whoop which could be heard half over the school. 

"What on earth's the row?" said a head looking in at the door; "caughtcold, or what?"

"Come here, Jim, this moment; look at this!"

And Jim came and looked, and as he looked his eyes sparkled withadmiration. 

"My eye, Charlie, what a beauty!" said he, taking up the treasure in hishand. His thumb happened to touch the spring on the handle, andinstantly there came a low melodious note from inside the repeater--One, two, three, and then a double tinkle twice repeated. 

"That's striking, " observed Jim, who was occasionally guilty of a pun. "Why, it's a repeater!"

"So it is! Did you ever know such a brick as that uncle of mine?"

"It's a pity your people can't think of anything else but watches forpresents. Why, what a donkey you made of yourself about that silverturnip when you first had it! Don't you remember? What's to become ofit, by the by?"

"How do I know? I say, Jim, this one wasn't got for nothing. " And thenthe boys together investigated the wonders of the new watch, peeping atits works and making it strike, till I was quite sick of hearing it. But then I was jealous. There was no more Cicero for Charlie that day. He was almost as ridiculous, though not so rough, with his new treasureas he had been with me. He turned me out of my pocket to make room forit; and then half a dozen times a minute pulled it out and gloated overit. At night he put us both under his pillow, little dreaming of thesorrow and disappointment that filled my breast. 

Where were all the old days now? Who would admire or value _me_, apoor, commonplace silver drudge, now that this grand, showy rival hadcome and taken my place? In my anger and excitement my heart beat fastand loud, so loud that presently I heard a voice beside me saying, --

"Gently, there, if you please; no one can hear himself speak with thatnoise. "

"I've more right to be here than you, " I growled. 

"That is as our mutual master decides; but surely I have heard yourvoice before! Let me look at you. "

And he edged himself up, so as to get a peep at my shabby face. 

"To be sure--my young friend the three-guinea silver watch? How do youdo, my little man?"

This patronage was intolerable, and I had no words to reply. 

"Ah! you find it difficult to converse. You must indeed be almost wornout after the work you have had. I am indeed astonished to see youalive at all. I am sure, in my master's name, I may be allowed to thankyou for your praiseworthy exertions in his service. We are both muchobliged to you, and hope we shall show ourselves not unmindful ofyour--"

"Brute!" was all I could shriek, so mad was I, Whether my rival wouldhave pursued his discourse I cannot say, but at that instant a hand camefumbling under the pillow. It passed me by, and sought the repeater, and next moment the tinkling chimes sounded half-past eleven. 

It was as much as I could endure to be thus slighted and triumphed over. 

"Contemptible creature!" I exclaimed; "you may think you've a finevoice, but, like a simpering schoolgirl, you can't sing till you'repressed!" I had him there, surely!

"Better that than having no voice at all, like some people, or using itwhen no one wants to hear it, like others. " I suppose he thought he hadme there, the puppy!

He went on chiming at intervals during the night, and of course mymaster had very little rest in consequence. 

The next day Charlie and Jim had a solemn confabulation as to thedisposal of me. 

"It's no use wasting it, you know, " said Jim. "Pity you haven't got ayoung brother to pass it on to. "

"Suppose you take it, " said the generous Charlie. 

"No, old man, I don't want it. I'm not so mad about tickers as you. But, I tell you what, Charlie, you might like Tom to have it. He'sleaving, you know, and it would be a nice reminder of Randlebury. "

"Just what I thought directly the new one came, " exclaimed Charlie, "only then I remembered we had a row about this very watch three yearsago, and I'm afraid he wouldn't like it. "

"Try. Old Tom would be quite set up with a watch. "

Charlie proceeded that same day in quest of Tom, whom he found packingup his books and chemicals in a large trunk. 

To him my master exhibited his new treasure, greatly to Drift's delight. 

"Why, Charlie, " he said, "I don't know much about watches, but I'mcertain that's worth twenty pounds. "

"No!" exclaimed Charlie; "you don't mean that. "

"Yes, I do; but, for all that, I'll back your old turnip to keep as goodtime as it. "

"It's always gone well, the old one. I'm glad you like it, Tom. "

"I always liked it, you know. "

"Why?"

"Well, I've known it as long as I've known you, and if it hadn't beenfor it things might have been different. "

"Yes, " said Charlie, "it was the cause of all the row three years ago. "

"And if it hadn't been for that row I should have gone to the bad longago. That was a lucky row for me, Charlie, thanks to you. "

"Don't say that, old man, because it's a cram. "

"I say, Tom, " added Charlie nervously, coming to his point, "will you dome a favour?"

"Anything in the world. What is it?"

"Take my old watch, Tom. It's not worth much, you know, but it may beuseful, and it will help to remind you of old days. Will you, Tom?"

Tom's lips quivered as he took me from Charlie's outstretched hand. 

"Old boy, " said he, "I'd sooner have this than anything else in theworld. Somehow I feel I can't go wrong as long as I have it. "

Charlie was beyond measure delighted to find his present accepted withso little difficulty. 

"Oh, Tom, " he said, "I am glad to think you'll have it, and I knowyou'll think of me when you use it. "

"Won't I?" said Tom. "I say, Charlie, I wish you were coming to Londonwith me. "

"So do I. Never mind, we'll often write, and you'll promise to let meknow how you are getting on, won't you?"

"Yes. "

"And you'll call and see my father pretty often, won't you?"

"Yes. "

"And you'll keep yourself free for a week's jaunt at Easter?"

"Yes. "

They had much more talk that evening, which lasted till late. What theytalked about it is not for me to repeat, and if it were it wouldprobably not interest my reader. He would perhaps be disappointed tofind that a considerable part of it related to a new suit of Tom's, justarrived from the tailor's, and that another part had reference to Tom'sintention to prevail on his landlady in London to allow him to support abull-dog puppy on her premises. These subjects, deeply interesting tothe two friends, would not improve with repetition; and neither wouldthe rest of their talk, which was chiefly a going over of old times, anda laying of many a wondrous scheme for the future. Suffice it to say, on this last evening the two boys unbosomed themselves to one another, and if Tom Drift went off to bed in a sober and serious frame of mind, it was because he and Charlie both had thought and felt a great dealmore than they had spoken during the interview. The packing went on atthe same time as the talk, and then the two friends separated, only tomeet once more on the morrow for a hurried farewell. 

"Let's have a last look at him, " said Charlie, as Tom was getting intothe cab to go. 

Tom took me out and handed me to him. Long and tenderly my dear youngmaster looked at me, then, patting me gently with his hand as if I werea child, he said, --

"Good-bye, and be good to Tom Drift; do you hear?"

If a tick could express anything, my reply at that moment must havesatisfied him his parting wish would not be forgotten. Then returningme to my new master, he said, --

"Good-bye, old boy; joy go with you. We'll hear of you at the head ofyour profession before Jim and I have left school. "

"Not quite so soon, " replied Tom, laughing. 

Then came a last good-bye, and the cab drove off. As it turned thecorner of the drive Tom leaned out of the window and held me out in hishand. 

Long shall I remember that parting glimpse. He was standing on thesteps with Jim waving his hands. The sun shone full on him, lighting uphis bright face and curly head. I thought as I looked, "Where could onefind his equal?"--_Sans peur et sans reproche_--"matchless forgentleness, honesty, and courage, " and felt, as the vision faded fromme, that I should never see another like him. And I never did. 

Little, however, did I dream in what strange way I was next to meetCharlie Newcome. 

CHAPTER ELEVEN. 

HOW TOM DRIFT MADE ONE START IN LONDON, AND PREPARED TO MAKE ANOTHER. 

The two months that followed my departure from Randlebury weremelancholy and tedious. 

It was hard for me, after the boisterous surroundings of a publicschool, to settle down to the heavy monotony of a dull lodging in a backstreet of London; and it was harder still, after being the pride andfavourite of a boy like Charlie Newcome, to find myself the property ofTom Drift. 

Not that Tom used me badly at first. He wound me up regularly, and forthe sake of his absent friend honoured me with a considerable share ofhis affection. 

Indeed, for the first week or so he was quite gushing, scarcely lettingme out of his sight, and sometimes even dropping a tear over me. And I, remembering Charlie's last words, "Be good to Tom Drift, " felt glad tobe able to remind my new master of old times, and keep fresh the hopesand resolutions with which Charlie had done so much to inspire him. ButTom Drift, I could not help feeling, was not a safe man. 

There was something lacking in him, and that something was ballast. Noone, perhaps, ever had a greater theoretical desire to be all that wasright and good, but that was not in itself enough. 

In quiet, easy times, and with a guiding friend to help him, Tom Driftdid well enough; but left to himself amid currents and storms he couldhardly fail to come to grief, as we shall presently see. 

For the first two months he stuck hard to his work he was regular atlectures, and attentive when there; he spent his spare time well instudy bearing upon the profession for which he was preparing; he wroteand heard once a week from Charlie; he kept clear of the more rackety ofhis fellow-students; he spent his Sundays at Mr Newcome's house, and hetook plenty of healthy exercise both for body and mind. 

With many examples about him of industry and success he determined tomake the most of his time as a student, and spoke of the life and sphereof a country doctor, for which he was training, with the enthusiasm ofone whose heart is in his work. 

"The more I think of it, " he once wrote to his mother, who was residingabroad for her health, "the more I take to it. A good doctor is thebest-liked man in his parish. Everybody comes to him in their trouble. He gets into the best society, and yet makes himself loved by thepoorest. In four or five years at least I ought to get through mycourse here, and then there is nothing to prevent my settling down atonce. By that time I hope you'll be well enough to come and keep housefor me, for all country doctors, you know, are bachelors, " and so on. 

All this was very well, and, as one of Tom's friends, I rejoiced to seehim thus setting himself in earnest to the duties of his calling. But Irejoiced with trembling. Although he kept clear, for the most part, ofhis fellow-students, choosing his friends charily and shyly, I could yetsee that he had no objection to contemplate from a distance the humoursand festivities of his more high-spirited companions. He was not one ofthose impulsive fellows who shut their eyes and take a header into themidst of a new good-fellowship, only to discover too late their error, and repent their rashness at leisure. 

No, Tom had his eyes open. He saw the evil as well as the good, and, alas for him, having seen it, he looked still!

The students of Saint Elizabeth's Hospital were not on the whole a badset. On Tom's arrival in London, however, he had the firm impression inhis mind that all medical students were bad characters, and this foolishnotion did him much harm. If two or three of them were to go off for aspree, his imagination would at once picture them in scenes and placessuch as no respectable man would like to frequent, whereas, if the truthwere known, these misjudged young men had committed no greater crimethan that of taking a boat up the river, or a drive in a dog-cart. If agroup of them should be seen by him laughing and talking, heinstinctively concluded their topic must be ribaldry, whereas they wouldperhaps be only joking at the expense of some eccentric professor, orelse chaffing one of their own number. And so it happened that Tomfailed in time to distinguish between the really bad and such as he onlyimagined to be bad; and from his habit of looking on at them and theirdoings from a studied distance, their presence began gradually andinsensibly to exercise a very considerable influence over his mind. 

"After all, " he would sometimes say to himself, "these fellows get on. They pass their exams, they pay their bills, they gain the confidence oftheir professors, and at the same time they manage to enjoy themselves. Perhaps I am a fool to take so much pains about the first three of thesethings, and to deny myself the fourth. Perhaps, after all, thesefellows are not so bad as I have fancied, or perhaps I am prudish. "

And then the silly fellow, having once inclined to admit there wassomething to be said for medical students, and having before consideredall bad alike, became tolerant all round, more particularly of thereally bad set, who appeared to him to enjoy themselves the most. 

As his companions became more attractive to him, his work became lessinteresting. 

"Why should I grind and plod here, " he said, "while every one else isenjoying himself? If young Charlie were here, I'm pretty sure _he'd_ bein for some of their sprees, and laugh at me for wearing my eyes out asI'm doing. "

And then he leaned back in his chair and took to wondering what the sixfellows who started that afternoon for Richmond were doing. Smashingthe windows of the "Star and Garter, " perhaps, or fighting the bargeeson the river, or capturing a four-in-hand drag, or disporting themselvesin some such genial and truly English manner. And as Tom conjured upthe picture he half envied them their sport. 

So he gradually became restless and discontented. The days were wearyand the evenings intolerably dull. The visits to Mr Newcome were ofcourse pleasant enough, but it was slow being cooped up an entire Sundaywith two old people. On the whole, life in London was becoming stupid. 

One of the first symptoms of his altered frame of mind was theoccasional neglect of his regular letter to Charlie. That ever-faithfulyoung man wrote as punctually as clockwork. Every Thursday morning aletter lay on Tom's plate at breakfast-time, addressed in the well-knownhand, and bearing the Randlebury post-mark. And jolly lively lettersthey were. 

I remembered one of them well. It came after two weeks' omission onTom's part, and ran thus:--

 "Dear Tom, "A pretty fellow you are to correspond with! Here am I, piping to you with all my might, but I can't get you to dance. I know what you'll tell me, you old humbug--`awfully hard grind'--`exam coming on'--`lectures day and night, ' and rubbish like that. All very well, but look here, Thomas, don't fancy that your diligence in cutting off legs and arms can be an excuse for cutting yours truly in this heartless manner. Not having a letter of yours to answer, I don't know how I shall scrape up material enough for a yarn. There was a big football-match on Saturday, and Jim and I were in it. You should have seen me turning somersaults, and butting my head into the fellows' stomachs. Jim and I got shoulder to shoulder once in the game. You know old Howe? Well, he was running with the ball to wards our goal, and Jim and I were in front of him. 

 I was nearest, and charged, and over I went like a ninepin; then Jim was on him, and over _he_ went too. However, I was up again in time to jump on Howe's back; but he shook me off on to the ground on my nose. Then Jim, having recovered, took _his_ fling, and a rare fling it was, for Howe dodged him just as he was at the top of a kangaroo leap, and left him looking very foolish in a sitting posture on the ground. However, in dodging, Howe had allowed me time to extricate my nose from the earth and make my third attempt. This time was more successful, for I got my hands round the ball; but I shouldn't have kept them there if Jim hadn't taken the opportunity of executing another astounding buck-jump, which landed him safe on his man's shoulders, where he stuck like a scared cat on the back of a somnambulist. So between us we brought our quarry to earth and gained no end of applause. Wasn't it prime?

 That's about all the news here, except that Willoughby is going to Trinity at Midsummer, and that Salter is laid up from the effects of an explosion of crackers in his trousers pockets. 

 "I've taken a turn at reading hard, which may astonish you. The doctor told me, if I really thought of some day arraying my manly form in a scarlet jacket and wearing a sword, I ought to put it on with my mathematics, which are not my _forte_, you know. So now I'm drawing circles and triangles at every available moment, and my logarithm tables are thumbed almost to death. Don't imagine _you're_ the only burner of midnight oil. 

 "I had a letter from home to-day. They were saying they hadn't seen you lately. I hope you'll go up when you can; it would be a charity to the dear old folk; besides, they are very fond of you--queer taste! How's the ticker? Give it a cuff from me for not reminding you to write the last two weeks. 

 The repeater goes on all serene. It has already gained some notoriety, as I was publicly requested, before the whole Fifth, the other day, to abstain from evoking its musical talents in the course of the Latin prose lesson. Now I must shut up. Seriously, old man, don't overwork yourself, and don't bother to write unless you've time; but you know how welcome your letters are to

 "Your affectionate chum, "C. N. "

Of course Tom sat down and answered this letter at once, muchreproaching himself for his past neglect. 

With the vision of Charlie before his eyes, and with the sound of hisvoice again in his ears, all his old resolutions and impulses returnedthat morning. He worked hard, and flung the trashy novel, over which hehad been wasting his time the day before, into the fire; he went off tolectures with something like his old eagerness, and discharged hisduties in the wards with interest and thoroughness; he refused to allowhis mind to be distracted by the proceedings of his fellow-students, andhe resolved to spend that very evening at Mr Newcome's. 

Tom Drift would probably have laughed at the idea that this suddenchange was due entirely to Charlie's letter. To him it seemed like aspontaneous reassertion of its natural self by his mind, and a matterfor such self-congratulation and satisfaction, that it at once coveredthe multitude of past omissions. 

Indeed, Tom felt very virtuous as he returned that afternoon to hislodgings; and so felt no need to look away from self to Him who alonecan keep us from falling. 

He read Charlie's letter over again, and smiled at the idea of _his_getting up mathematics in his spare time. 

"He's not the sort of fellow to stick to work of that sort, " said Tom tohimself, secretly comparing his own remarkable powers of applicationwith those of his Randlebury friend. 

Then he sat down, and more than ever admiring and wondering at his owngreediness for hard work, read till it was time to start for MrNewcome's. 

It was a good long way, but being a fine evening, Tom determined towalk. He felt that after his work the fresh air would do him good, andbesides, as he was in plenty of time, he could indulge himself in thatvery cheap and harmless luxury, an inspection of the shop windows as hewent along. He therefore selected a longer and more crowded route thanperhaps he need have done, and certainly, as far as the shops went, wasrewarded for his pains. 

However, Tom seemed to me to have as much interest in watching thepeople who passed to and fro as in the shops. He amused himself bywondering where this one was going and what that one was doing. Withhis usual tendency, he chose to imagine they were all bent on mischiefor folly, and because they happened to be in a certain street, andbecause in that street he had frequently heard some of his fellow-students speak of a low theatre, he jumped to the conclusion that everyone he saw was bound for this place. Something impelled him to gohimself and take an exterior survey of this mysterious and much-spoken-of building. He found it; and, as he expected, he found peoplethronging in, though not in the numbers he had anticipated. He stoodand watched them for some time, and wondered what they were going tosee. 

He went up and read the playbill. He read the name of the play, thetitles of its acts, and the names of its actors. He wondered if the manwho just then drove up in a hansom was one of the heroes of the piece, or whether he was one of the performers in the farce announced to followthe play. Still the people streamed in. There was no one he knew, andno one knew him. 

"Strange, " thought he, "there are so many places in London where onecould go and no one ever know it. "

He wished he could see what the place was like inside; it must surely becrowded by this time. 

Thus he dawdled for some time; then with a sigh and an effort he torehimself away and walked quickly on to the Newcomes' house. Theirwelcome was most cordial. 

"We were afraid, " said Mr Newcome, "you had quite deserted us. Comein, it is pleasant to see you. We had a letter from Charlie only to-day, telling us to see you did not overwork yourself, and to make youcome up here whether you would or not. Of course we could hardly followsuch instructions literally. "

Tom spent a pleasant evening with the two good people. 

He always had found Mr Newcome a clever and very entertaining man--aman whom one feels all the better for talking to, and who naturally setsevery guest in his house at ease. They talked much about Charlie andhis prospects. They even consulted Tom as to the wisdom of yielding tothe boy's desire for a military career, and Tom strongly supported theidea. 

Then Tom's own prospects were canvassed and highly approved of by bothMr, and Mrs Newcome. 

Tom already pictured himself settled down in his country practice, enjoying himself, doing good to others, and laying by a comfortablecompetency for future years. On the whole, he felt, as he quitted thehospitable roof of his genial friends, that he had rarely spent a morepleasant or profitable evening. 

People were thronging out of the theatre as he returned, and he couldnot resist the desire to stand and watch them; for a little. Hewondered what they had seen, and whether those he saw had waited for the"farce, " or was that still going on?--and he wondered if any people everwent into a theatre at so late an hour as eleven. 

Ah, Tom! he did not go in that night, or the next, but he was gettinghimself ready for the first step. 

Reader, do not mistake Tom's weakness and folly. He was not trying topersuade himself this place was a good one for him to enter; he was notthoughtlessly going in to discover too late that he had better havestayed out. No, Tom--rightly or wrongly--had made up his own mind thatthis theatre was a bad place, and _yet_ he had a desire to enter in!

CHAPTER TWELVE. 

HOW TOM DRIFT BEGINS TO GO DOWNHILL. 

Time went on, and Tom Drift advanced inch by inch nearer the brink. Heslipped, not without many an effort to recover himself, many a pang ofself-reproach, many a vague hope of deliverance. 

"Be good to Tom Drift!" was ever ringing in my ears. But what could Ido? He often neglected me for days. All I could do was to watch andtremble for what was coming. 

You who are so ready to call Tom a fool, and hug yourselves that youhave more strength of character and resolution than he had, try torealise what were his perils and what were his temptations at that time, before you pass judgment. 

The dulness of those lodgings in Grime Street was often almostunbearable. When his work was done, and Tom looked out of the windowand saw nothing but carts and cabs and tradesmen, and the dismal housesopposite, what wonder if he sometimes felt miserable? When he heardnothing but pattering footsteps down the pavement, the rumble of wheelsand the street cries under his window, what wonder if he felt lonely andfriendless? No footsteps stopped at _his_ door, no friendly facelightened _his_ dull study, no cheery laughter brought music to _his_life. What wonder, I say, if he moped and felt discontented?

What wonder if his thoughts wandered to scenes and places thatcontrasted forcibly with his dead-alive occupation? What wonder if hehankered after a "little excitement, " to break the monotony of lectures, hard reading, and stupid evenings?

"Ah, " I hear you say, "there are plenty of things he might have done. It was his own fault if he was dull in London. I would have gone to themuseums, the libraries, the concerts, the parks, the river, the picturegalleries, and other harmless and delightful places of amusement. Why, I could not be dull in London if I tried. Tom Drift was an idiot. "

My dear friend, what a pity Tom Drift had not the advantage of youracquaintance when he was in London! But he had not. He had no friends, as I have said, except the Newcomes, whom he only visited occasionally, and as a matter chiefly of duty, and his anxiety to keep right at firsthad led him to reject and fight shy of friendships with his fellow-students. Doubtless it was his own fault to a large extent that heallowed himself to get into this dull, dissatisfied condition. If hehad had a healthy mind like you, friend, it would not have happened. But instead of utterly scouting him as an idiot, rather thank God youhave been spared all his weaknesses and all his temptations. 

Was Tom never to learn that there was a way--"The Way, the Truth, andthe Life"--better than any he had yet tried, which would lead himstraight through the tangled mazes of his London life? Was he never todiscover that Friend, truer than all earthly friends, at Whose side hemight brave each trial and overcome each temptation?

Poor Tom! he walked in a way of his own? and trusted in no one betterthan himself; and that was why he fell. 

As I have said, he did not fall without an effort. I have known him oneday buy a bad, trashy book, and the same evening, in a fit ofrepentance--for God's Spirit wonderfully strives with men--take and burnit to ashes in his grate. But I have also known him to buy the samebook again the next day. I have known him to walk a mile out of his wayto avoid a place of temptation; and yet, before his walk was done, findhimself, after all, under the glare of its lamps. The moth hovers inwide circles round the candle before it ventures its wings in the flame. And so it was with Tom; but the catastrophe came at last. 

One evening about three weeks before the time fixed for the Easter tripwith Charlie, Tom felt in tolerably dull. He had been neglecting hiswork during several days for novels of the lowest and most sensationaltype. Over these he had dawdled till his brain had become muddled withtheir unreal incidents and impure suggestions, and now that they weredone he felt fit for nothing. He could not settle down to work, he hadno friends to turn to, and so he put his hat on his head and sallied outinto the streets to seek there the variety he could not find indoors. 

As usual, his steps led him to the low theatre about which he was socurious, and of which he heard so much from his fellow-students. It washalf-past seven, and people were beginning to crowd round the door, waiting for it to open. Tom, standing on the other side of thepavement, watched them with a painful fascination. 

"Shall I go for once?" he asked himself. Then he strolled up to theplaybill and read it. 

As he was doing so some one slapped him on the shoulder, and, turningquickly round, he found himself face to face with his old acquaintanceGus Burke and another youth. 

Gus, who was still small of stature, though fully nineteen years of age, was arrayed in the height of the fashion. As Tom regarded him he felthis own coat become more shabby and his hat older, and he wished he hadbrought his dogskin gloves and cane. Gus was smoking, too, a cigarette, and very distinguished and gentlemanly Tom thought it looked. He felt, as he regarded his brilliant and unexpected acquaintance, that he wasrather glad those people who were standing at the theatre door shouldsee him accosted in so familiar a way by such a hero. And Gus's friendwas no less imposing--more so, indeed, for he wore an eyeglass. 

Tom was so astonished at this unexpected meeting that he had noticed allthis long before he found words to return his old schoolfellow'ssalutation. 

Gus, however, relieved him of his embarrassment. 

"Tom Drift, upon my honour! How are you, old horse, and how's yourmother? Who'd have thought of running up against you like this?"

Tom tried to look as much at his ease as he could as he replied, --

"Why, Gus, old man, where _did_ you spring from? I didn't know you werein London. "

"Ain't I, though!" replied Gus, tapping the end of his cigarette on hiscane. "But what are you up to, Tom?--you're not going in here, areyou?" pointing over his shoulder to the theatre. 

"Well, no, " said Tom; "that is, " added he, with as much of a swagger ashe could assume on the spur of the moment, "I had been half thinking ofjust seeing what it was like. Some of our fellows, you know, fancy theplace. "

How suddenly and easily he was, under the eyes of these two "swells, "casting off the few slender cords that still held him moored to theshore. 

"Oh, don't go in there, " said Gus, with a look of disgust; "it's theslowest place in London--nothing on but that old fool Shakespeare'splays, or somebody's equally stupid. You come along with us, Tom, we'lltake you to a place where you'll get your money's worth and no mistake. Won't we, Jack?"

The youth appealed to as Jack answered with a most affected drawl, andwith an effort which appeared to cause him no little fatigue, "Wathah. "

"Come along, " said Gus, lighting a fresh cigarette. 

Tom was uncomfortable. He would not for worlds seem unwilling to go, and yet he wished he could get out of it somehow. 

"Very kind of you, " he said, "I'd like it awfully; but I must get backto do some work, you know, I've an exam coming on. It's an awfulnuisance!"

"Why, I thought you were going in here, in any case!" said Gus. 

"Ah--well--yes, so I was, just for a little, to see what sort of affairit was; but I meant to be home by nine. "

"Well, just have a squint in at our place; and if you must go, you must. Come along, old man; cut work for one evening, can't you? You'vebecome an awfully reformed character all of a sudden; you usen't to beso hot on your books. "

Tom had no ambition before these two to figure in the light of areformed character, and he therefore abandoned further protest, andproceeded to accompany Gus and his friend down the street. 

"Have a weed?" asked Gus. 

"Thanks, I hardly ever smoke, " said Tom. 

"They're very mild, " said Gus, with a sneer. 

Tom took the proffered cigar without another word, and did his bestfirst to light and then to smoke it as if he were an experienced smoker. 

"Who's your fwend?" inquired Gus's languid acquaintance. 

"By the way, " said that young man, "I've never introduced you two. Mortimer, allow me to introduce you to my friend Tom Drift. "

Mr Mortimer gave a nod which Tom felt he would like greatly to have athis command, there was something so very knowing and familiar about it. 

"It was Tom got up that little race party I was telling you of, Jack, you know. He's a regular sporting card. By the way, what's become ofthat little mooney-face prig we took with us that day; eh, Tom?"

Tom was out in midstream now, floating fast out to sea. 

"Who--oh, young Newcome?" said he; "he's still at Randlebury. "

"Young puppy! You never knew such a spree as that was, Jack, " said Gus;and then he launched forth into a highly-spiced account of the eventfulexpedition to Gurley races, contriving to represent Tom as the hero ofthe day, greatly to that youth's discomfort and confusion, and no lessto the amusement of Mr Mortimer. 

"Here we are at last, " said Gus, as the trio arrived at a gorgeouslyilluminated and decorated restaurant. 

Tom's heart sunk within him. More than ever did he wish himself back inhis dull lodgings, never again to set foot abroad, if only he could havegot out of this fix. But there was no drawing back. 

"Shall we go in yet, or knock the balls about for a bit?" said Gus. "This fellow Tom's a regular swell at billiards. Do you rememberthrashing me last time we met, Tom--the summer after I'd leftRandlebury?"

Tom could not deny he had beaten Gus on the occasion referred to, andfelt it was useless for him to protest--what was the case--that he wasonly a very indifferent player. He agreed to the idea of a game, however, as he hoped he might at its close be able to make his escapewithout accompanying his two companions to the music-hall attached tothe restaurant, and which he already knew by reputation as one of thelowest entertainments in London. "You two play, " said Gus, "and I'llmark. You'll have to give Jack points, Tom, you know, you're such adab. "

It was vain for Tom to disclaim the distinction, and the game began. 

"Hold hard!" said Gus, after the first stroke; "what are you playingfor?"

"Weally, I don't know; thillingth, I thuppothe, " lisped Mr Mortimer. 

"All serene! Go on. "

And they went on, and Mr Mortimer made no end of misses, so that, inspite of the points he had received, Tom beat him easily. In the twogames which followed the same success attended him, and he won all thestakes. 

"Didn't I tell you he was a swell?" said Gus. "Upon my word, Tom, Idon't know how you do it!"

"It's just the sort of table I like to play on, " said Tom, elated withhis success, and unwilling to own that half his lucky shots had been"flukes. "

"I tell you what, " said Gus; "you owe me my revenge, you know, from lasttime. I'll play you to-morrow for half-crowns, if you'll give me thesame points as you did to Jack. "

Tom was fast nearing the breakers now. He had nothing for it but toaccept the challenge, and the table was consequently engaged for thenext evening. 

"I must be off now, you fellows!" he said. 

"Nonsense! Why, you haven't yet seen the fun below. You must stay forthat. "

"I wish I could, " faltered Tom; "but I really must do some reading to-night. "

"So you can; the thing only lasts an hour, and you're not obliged to goto bed at eleven, are you?"

Still Tom hesitated. 

"You don't mean to say you are squeamish about it?" said Gus, inastonishment. "I could fancy that young friend of your mother's turningup _his_ eyes at it, but a fellow like you wouldn't be so particular, Ireckon; eh, Jack?"

And Mr John Mortimer, thus appealed to, laughed an amused laugh at thebare notion. 

That laugh and the term, "a fellow like you, " destroyed the last ofTom's wavering objections, and he yielded. 

CHAPTER THIRTEEN. 

HOW TOM DRIFT, STILL GOING DOWNHILL, MET MY OLD MASTER. 

When Tom reached his lodgings that night he found a jubilant letter fromCharlie awaiting him. 

"Just fancy, " he said, "it's only three weeks more, old man, and then toJericho with books, and test-tubes, and anatomy! I'll drag you out ofyour study by the scruff of your neck, see if I don't; I'll clap aknapsack on your back, and haul you by sheer force down into Kent. There you shall snuff the ozone, and hold your hat on your head withboth hands on the cliff top. I'll hound you through old castles, andworry you up hills. If I catch so much as a leaflet on chemistry inyour hands, I'll tear it up and send it flying after the sea-gulls. Inshort, I shouldn't like to say what I won't do, I'm so wild at theprospect of a week with you. Of course, the dear old people growl at mefor leaving them in the lurch; but they are glad for us to get the blow;indeed, my pater insists on paying the piper, which is handsome of him. I expect I shall get a day in London on my way, either going orreturning; and if you can put me up at your diggings for the night, we'll have a jolly evening, and you can show me all your haunts. "

Tom gasped as he got so far; and well he might. 

"I'll tell you all the news when I come. I suppose, by your notwriting, you are saving yours up for me. Ta, ta, old boy, and _aurevoir_ in twenty-one days! Hurrah! Yours ever, --C. N. "

Tom, in his misery, crushed the letter up in his fingers and flung itfrom him. If a passing pang shot through his breast, it was followedalmost instantly by other feelings of vexation and shame. One moment hewas ready to sink to the floor in a passion of penitence and remorse--the next, he was ready to resent Charlie's influence over him even at adistance, and to sneer, as Gus and his friend had done, at the boy'sexpense. His brain was too muddled with the excitement and the strangeemotions of that evening to reason with himself; his head ached, and hismind was poisoned. 

"What right has the fellow always to be following me up in this way?" heasked. "I'm a fool to stand it. Why can't I do as I choose without hispulling a long face?"

Thus Tom questioned, and thus he proved that it was Charlie's influencemore than his letter that worried him; for what had the latter said, either in the way of exhortation or reproof?

Then he threw himself on the bed, and lay with the wild memory of theevening crowding on his feverish mind. He rose, and, lighting a candle, endeavoured to read; but even his novel was flat and stupid, and in themidst of it he fell asleep, to dream of Gus and his friend all nightlong. Long ere he awoke my senses had left me, for he had neglected towind me up. Next morning he went to lectures as usual. To his fellow-students he appeared the same shy, quiet youth he had always seemed; toMr

Newcome, whom he met in the street, he appeared still as Charlie'schosen and dear friend, ready for his holiday and rejoicing in theprospect of the coming meeting; to his professors he appeared still thesame steady, hard-working student, bent on making his way in hisprofession. But to himself, alas! how altered, how degraded heappeared!

In the midst of his duties his thoughts ran continually--now back to thestrange experience of last evening, now forward to the doubtful eventsof this. 

The recollection of the past had lost a good deal of its repulsivenessafter twelve hours' interval, and although he still felt it to be lowand harmful, he yet secretly encouraged his curiosity to revisit theplace of his temptation. 

"After all, it did me no harm, " said he to himself; "it's not interferedwith my work, or made me feel worse than before. What harm in goingagain to-night? When Charlie comes, and we get away from town, I shalleasily be able to break it off; and besides, Charlie's sure to help toput me square; he always does. Yes; I think I'll just go and see what'son there to-night; it can't be worse than it was. Besides, " thought he, glad to seize on any straw of excuse, "I'm bound in honour to play Gus areturn match; it would be ungentlemanly to back out of that. "

But why sicken you, dear reader, and myself, with recapitulating the sadworkings of this poor fellow's mind? The more he tried to convincehimself he was doing only a slight wrong, the more his conscience criedout he was running to his ruin. But he stopped his ears and shut hiseyes, and blindly dared his fate. He went that evening to the music-hall. He met Gus and Mortimer, and two other friends. He had takencare to get himself up in a nearer approach to his companions' style. He bought some cigars of his own on the way, and offered them with aless awkward swagger than he had been able to assume the night before. He found himself able to nod familiarly to the barmaid, and fancied thateven Mortimer must have approved of the way in which he ordered aboutthe billiard-marker. 

In the match with Gus for half-crowns he lost, though only narrowly--sonarrowly that he was not content, without a further trial of skill, toown himself beaten, and therefore challenged his adversary to a secondmeeting the next evening. Then he watched the others play, and bettedwith Mortimer on the result--and alas! for him, he won. 

It was Tom himself who said, at nine o'clock, --

"And now, suppose we see what's going on below. "

It was the same stupid, disgusting spectacle, but to Tom it seemed lessrepulsive than he had found it the night before. True, he at times felta return of the old feeling of shame; the blush would occasionallysuffuse his face; but such fits were rare, and he was able to carry themoff more easily with joke and laughter. 

"Jack, " said Gus in a whisper to Mortimer, as Tom, after accepting avery broad hint to treat the party to spirits, was turning to go, "thatfellow will be a credit to you and me. Did you see how he smacked hislips over the play, and yet all the while wanted to make us think he sawthat sort of thing every day of his life, eh? He's a promising chap, eh, Jack?"

"Wathah, " replied Jack, laughing. 

Meanwhile Tom, glad enough to get out into the pure air, though in notso desperate a case as the night before, shouldered his way among theloitering company towards the door. He was just emerging into thestreet, when the sound of voices arrested him. 

"That's one of our men, isn't it?" said one. 

"Why, so it is; I fancied he was anything but a festive blade. Yes; andupon my word he's half seas over!"

Tom had no difficulty in discovering that these hurried words hadreference to him, and turning instinctively towards the voices, he foundhimself face to face with two, reputedly, of the wildest of his fellow-students. 

Gladly would he have avoided them; gladly would he have shrunk back andlost himself in the crowd, but it was too late now; he stood discovered. 

"How are you?" cried one of the two, as he passed; "isn't your nameDrift?"

Tom stared as if he would have denied his name; but the next moment heput on his lately acquired swagger, and said, "Yes. "

"Ah! I thought so; one of the Saint Elizabeth men. Hullo! he's in ahurry, though, " added he, as Tom made a dive forward and strode rapidlydown the street. 

It was but a step deeper. Well he knew that by to-morrow every one ofhis fellow-students would know of him as a frequenter of that wretchedplace. Well he knew that, as far as they were concerned, the mask ofshyness and reticence under which he had sheltered in their midst wasfor ever pulled away. "One of us, " indeed! So truly the very worst ofthem might now speak and think of him. Oh, if he had but considered intime; if he had but stemmed this flood at its source! But it was toolate now. 

And he strode home reckless and hardened. 

The next day, as he expected, every one seemed to know of his visits tothe music-hall. The two who had seen him accosted him with every showof friendship and intelligence. He was appealed to in the presence ofnearly a dozen of his fellow-students as to the name of one of the lowsongs there given; he was asked if he was going to be there to-night, and he was invited to join this party and that in similar expeditions tosimilar places. And to all these questions and greetings he wasconstrained to reply in keeping with his assumed character of a gayspark. How sick, how vile he felt; yet in that one day how hardened anddesperate he became!

It was not in Tom Drift to cry "I have sinned! I will return!" No, once loose from his moorings, he let himself float down the stream, watching the receding banks in mute despair, raising no shout forsuccour, venturing no plunge for safety. 

You, who by this time have given him up, disgusted at his weakness, hisvanity, his low instincts, his cowardliness--who say let him wallow inthe mire he has prepared for himself, who know so glibly what you wouldhave done, what you would have said, what you would have felt, rememberonce more that Tom Drift was not such as you; and unfortunately did notknow you. He was not gifted with your heroic resolution or your all-penetrating wisdom. He was an ordinary sinful being of flesh and blood, relying only on his own poor strength; and therefore, reader, try torealise all he went through before you fling your stone. 

The toils were closing round him fast. His will had been the first tosuffer, his conscience next. Then with a rush had gone honour, temperance, and purity; and now finally the flimsy rag, his good name, had been torn from him, and he stood revealed a prodigal--and ahypocrite. 

Even yet, however, help might have been forthcoming. 

"I say, you fellow, " said one of his fellow-students this same day, "I've never spoken to you before, and perhaps shall never do so again;but _don't be a fool_!"

"What do you mean?" said Tom sharply. 

"Only this, and I can't help it if you are angry, keep clear of thesenew friends of yours, and still more, keep clear of the places theyvisit. If you've been led in once, rather cut off your right hand thanbe led in again, that's all!"

What spirit of infatuation possessed Tom Drift, that he did not springfor very life at the proffered help, that he did not besiege thisfriend, however blunt and outspoken, and compel his timely aid? Alas, for his blindness and folly!

Scowling round at the speaker, he muttered an oath, and said, "What onearth concern is it of yours who my friends are and where I go? Mindyour own business. "

And so, thrusting rudely away the hand that might, by God's grace, havesaved him, he swept farther and farther out towards the dark waters. 

One final and great hope was still reserved for him, and that wasCharlie's visit. But to Tom that prospect was becoming day by day meredistasteful. As the days wore on, and Tom sunk deeper and deeper intothe snare prepared for him, the thought of a week in the society of oneso upright and pure as Charlie became positively odious. The effort toconceal his new condition would be almost impossible, and yet to admitit to him would be, he felt, to shatter for ever the only friendship hereally prized. He racked his brain for expedients and excuses to avertthe visit, but without avail. If he pleaded illness Charlie would bethe first to rush to his bedside; if he pleaded hard work Charlie wouldinsist on sharing it, or improving its few intervals of rest; if hepleaded disinclination Charlie would devise a hundred other plans toplease him. In short, Charlie's visit was inevitable, and as he lookedforward to it he writhed in misgiving and anxiety. 

His visits to the music-hall were meanwhile continuing, and his circleof acquaintance at that evil haunt enlarging. He was duly installed asone of the "fast set" at Saint Elizabeth's, and under its auspices hadalready made his _debut_ at other scenes and places than that of hisfirst transgression. He was known by sight to a score of billiard-markers, potmen, blacklegs, and lower characters still, and was onnodding terms with fully half of them. He had lost considerably morethan he had gained at billiards, and was still further emptying hispurse at cards. Quick work for a few weeks! So quickly and fatally, alas! Will the infection, once admitted, spread, especially in apatient whose moral constitution has undergone so long a course of slowpreparation as Tom's had. 

The day came at last. Tom had carefully hidden away his worst books andhis spirits; he had bathed his face half a dozen times, to remove thetraces of last night's intemperance he had gathered together from thecorners where they had for so long lain neglected the books and relicsof his Randlebury days, and restored them to their old places; he hadbrightened me up, and he had taken pains to purify his room from thesmell of rank tobacco; and then he sauntered down to the station. 

How my heart beat as the train came into the platform! _His_ head wasout of the window, and _his_ hand was waving to us a hundred yards off;and the next minute he had burst from the carriage, and seized Tom bythe hands. 

"How are you, old Tom? I thought we'd never get here; how glad I am toset eyes on you! Isn't this a spree?" And not waiting for Tom's answerhe hauled his traps out of the carriage in a transport of delight. 

Still the same jovial, honest, fine-hearted boy. 

"Hi! here! some of you, " he shouted to a porter, "look after thesethings, will you, and get us a cab. I tell you what, Tom, you've got tocome up home with me first, and we can have dinner there; then I'll comeon to your den, and we can pack our knapsacks and sleep, and then startby the five train to-morrow morning. "

Thus he bustled, and thus he brought back the old times on poor TomDrift. Without the heart to speak, he helped his friend to collect hisluggage, and when they were fairly started in the cab he even smiledfeebly in reply to the boy's sallies. 

"Tom, you rascal, didn't I tell you you weren't to knock yourself up, eh? Why can't you do what you're told? Why, I declare you're as thinas a hurdle, and as black under the eyes as if you had been fightingwith a collier. You ought to be ashamed of yourself! Look at me; doall I can I can't get up an interesting pallor like you, and I'vefretted enough over those conic sections (comic sections Jim alwayscalls them). Never mind! Wait till I get you down to the sea. "

And so he rattled on, while Tom leaned back in his seat and winced atevery word. 

When they reached Mr Newcome's of course there was a scene of eagerwelcome on one side and boisterous glee on the other. Tom, as he lookedon, sighed, as well he might, and wished he could have been spared thetorture of this day. 

Charlie tore himself away from his mother, to drag his friend into thehouse. 

"Look at this object!" he cried; "did you ever see such a caution tostudents? If we do nothing else in Kent we shall scare the crows, eh, Tom?"

"Charlie!" exclaimed his mother; "you have come home quite rude! I hopeyou'll excuse him, Mr Drift. "

Mr Drift said nothing, and looked and felt extremely miserable. 

"He looks really ill, poor fellow!" said Mrs Newcome to her husband. "I wonder they allow the students to overwork themselves in that way. "

And then they sat down to dinner--a meal as distasteful to Tom as it wasjoyful to Charlie and his parents. 

CHAPTER FOURTEEN. 

HOW TOM DRIFT PARTED WITH HIS BEST FRIEND. 

Charlie could not fail to discover before long that there was somethingwrong with my master. 

Never before had he known him so silent, so spiritless, so mysterious. No effort could rouse him into cheerfulness or conversation, and for thefirst time for three years Charlie felt that Tom was sorry to see him. Naturally, he put it all down to the results of overwork. Tom in hisletters had always represented himself as engrossed in study. Even thefew hurried scrawls of the past few weeks he had excused on the sameground. It never once occurred to the simple-minded schoolboy that achum of his could possibly be struggling in the agonies of shame andtemptation and he know nothing of it; he who knew so little of evilhimself, was not the one to think or imagine evil where any otherexplanation was possible. 

And yet Tom's manner was so strange and altered, that he determined, assoon as they should find themselves alone, to make an effort toascertain its cause. 

The opportunity came when the two youths, having bid farewell to Mr andMrs Newcome, found themselves at last in Tom's lodgings in GrimeStreet. 

"Well, " said Charlie, with all the show of cheerfulness he could muster, for his spirits had been strangely damped by the irresponsive gloom ofhis old schoolfellow--"well! here's the den at last. Upon my word, oldman, I've seen livelier holes! Why don't you explore and find someplace a trifle less dead-alive? But I dare say it's convenient to benear the Hospital, and when a fellow's working, it doesn't much matterwhat sort of a place he's in, as long as there's not a row going onunder his window--and I don't suppose there's much chance of that here, "said Charlie, looking out into the black street with a kind of shudder. 

Tom said nothing; he wished his friend would not everlastingly betalking of hard work and study in the way he did. However Charlieintended it, it was neither more nor less than a talking at him, andthat he could not stand. 

Charlie took no notice of his silence, but continued his inspection ofthe dismal apartment, lighting up with pleasure at the sight of the oldRandlebury relics. 

"My old rod!" exclaimed he, taking down the very rod with the lance-woodtop which had figured so conspicuously in a certain adventure threeyears ago; "how jolly to see it again! I'm afraid you don't get muchuse for it here. And our fencing-sticks, too; see, Tom, here's the veryplace where you got under my guard and snipped a bit out of the basket. Ha, ha! what a crack that was! And here's the picture of oldRandlebury, with you at your window, and me lying on the grass (andlooking uncommonly like a recently felled tree). Look here, Tom, thiswindow here is where Jim and I hang out now. It used to be Callaghan's. By the way, do you ever see Call? He's in London, articled to asolicitor. A pretty lawyer he'll make! Have you seen him yet, Tom?"

Tom, during this rattle, had been looking listlessly out of the window. He now turned round with a start and said--

"Eh? what did you say?"

The look which accompanied the words was so haggard and miserable, thatCharlie's pity was instantly touched. He stepped across the room andput his arm in Tom's as he stood, and said, --

"Tom, old boy, what's wrong?"

Tom said nothing, but walked away and leaned against the mantelpiece. 

"What is it, Tom? Are you ill, or in trouble? You'll tell me, won'tyou?"

Tom still remained silent, but his flushing face and restless lipsshowed that the appeal had at least been heard. 

"Old boy, " continued Charlie, venturing again nearer, "we never used tohave secrets. I'm sure something's the matter. Mayn't I know what itis? Very likely I can't help you; but I could try. "

Tom's lips quivered. The old influence was fast coming back. Alreadyin his mind he was picturing himself telling Charlie all and with hishelp extricating himself from the slough into which he had sunk. How_could_ he stand unmoved with that voice, familiar by many a memory ofsimple courageous goodness, again falling on his ear; and that appealingface, one so loved and delighted in, again turned to his?

"I'm afraid it's something more than ill health, old boy. You'vesomething on your mind. Oh! why won't you at least tell me what it is?"

Tom could stand it no longer. He _must_ speak. Whatever the confessioncost him, whatever its effect would be on his old schoolfellow'sfriendship, Charlie must know all. To him at least he could not playthe hypocrite or the deceiver. He had turned from the mantelpiece, hishand was held out to take that of his friend's, he was just about tospeak, when the door of his room opened, and there entered Gus, Mortimer, and two companions. 

"Here he is!" cried Gus, not noticing that Tom had company. "Tommy, oldman, you're in luck. Old Owl has got a supper on to-night, no end ofpunch, my boy, and he's expecting you; and afterwards we're going for aregular night of it to the-- Hullo! who's your friend?"

He caught sight of Charlie at this moment, and for an instant failed torecognise in Tom's companion the boy whom he had treated so shamefullyat Gurley races. But he remembered him in a moment. 

"What, surely--yet upon my honour so it is, our young sporting friend. How are you, Charlie, my boy? Here's a game! You'll come too, ofcourse? Mortimer, this fellow is Drift's special--up to all thewrinkles, no end of a knowing blade. "

During this brief and rapid salutation Tom and Charlie, I need hardlysay, were speechless. One in utter despair, the other in utter rage andastonishment. In both the revulsion of feeling caused by theinterruption was almost stupefying, and they stood for a moment staringat the intruders in simple bewilderment. 

Tom was the first to find words. His cheeks were white, and his voicealmost choked as he said to Gus, --

"I wish you'd go. I'm engaged. "

"So you are, " said Gus, with a sneer; "but I say. Tom, old man, I wishyou'd come. It's too good a thing to miss. "

"Go away!" almost gasped Tom. 

"Oh, of course an Englishman's house is his castle, " said Gus, offendedat this unusual rebuff; "you're a fool, though, that's all. We weregoing to have a spree to-night that would make all sprees of the pastmonth look foolish. Come along, don't be an ass; and bring youngmooney-face; I dare say by this time he knows what's what as well as youor me, Tom; eh, Jack?"

"Lookth tho, " replied the amused Jack. 

By this time Charlie had found words. The truth of course had allflashed in upon him; he knew the secret now of Tom's strange manner, ofthe neglected letters, of the haggard looks, of the reluctant welcome. 

And he knew, too, that but for this untimely incursion he would haveheard it all from Tom himself, penitent and humble, instead of, as now, hardened and desperate. 

And he recognised in the miserable little swaggering dandy before himthe author and the promoter of his friend's ruin; on him therefore hissudden rage expended itself. 

"You little cowardly wretch!" he exclaimed, addressing Gus, "haven't youdone mischief enough to Tom already? Go out of his room!"

Poor Charlie! Nothing could have been more fatal to his hopes than thisrash outbreak. The words had scarcely escaped his lips before he sawthe mischief he had done. 

Tom's manner suddenly altered. All signs of shame and penitencedisappeared as he stepped with a swagger up to Charlie and exclaimed, --

"What business have you to attack my friends? Get out yourself!"

"Bravo, Tom, old man, " cried the delighted Gus. "Do you hear, youngprig? walk off, you're not wanted here. "

Charlie stood for one moment stunned and irresolute. Had there been inTom's face the faintest glimmer of regret, or the faintest trace of theold affection, he would have stayed and braved all consequences. Butthere was neither. The spell that bound Tom Drift, his fear of beingthought a milksop, had changed him utterly, and as Charlie's eyes turnedwith pleading look to his they met only with menace and confusion. 

"Go!" repeated Tom, driven nearly wild by the mocking laugh in whichMortimer and his two companions joined. 

This, then, was the end of their friendship--so full of hope on oneside, so full of promise on the other. 

It was a strange moment in the lives of those two. To one it was thewilful throwing away of the last and best chance of deliverance, to theother it was the cruel extinction of a love and trust that had till nowbid fair to stand the wear of years to come. 

"Get out, I say!" said Tom Drift, once more goaded to madness by thepitying sneers of Mortimer. 

Charlie stayed no longer. Half stunned, and scarcely knowing what hedid, with one wild, mute prayer at his heart, he turned without a wordand left the room. 

Tom's friends followed his departure with mocking laughter, and watchedhis slowly retreating figure down the street with many a foul jest, andthen returned to congratulate Tom Drift on his deliverance. 

"Well, " said Gus, "you are well rid of _him_, at any rate. What a luckything we turned up just when we did! He'd have snivelled you into ashocking condition. Why, what a weak-minded fellow Tom is; ain't he, Jack?"

"Wathah, " replied Jack, with a laugh. 

Meanwhile Tom had abandoned even himself. He hated his friends, hehated himself, he hated Charlie and cursed himself for having everallowed him within his doors. He took no notice of Gus's gibes for along time. At last, "Ugh!" said he, "never mind if I'm weak-minded ornot, I'm sick of all this. Suppose we go off to the supper, and I'llstand treat afterwards at the music-hall?"

And crushing his hat on his head, he dashed out of the house utterlyreckless and desperate. 

Need I say my thoughts were with the poor injured boy, who, stung withingratitude, robbed of his friend, and ill with mingled pity, dread, andsorrow, walked slowly down the street away from Tom's lodgings? Ah!when should I see his face or hear his voice again now?

At the supper that evening Tom drank often and deeply, and of all theparty his shout rose highest and his laugh drowned all the others. Theyled him staggering away among them, and brought him to their vileresort. Even his companions wondered at his reckless demeanour, andexpostulated with him on his extravagant wildness. He laughed them toscorn and called for more drink. After a while they rose to depart, leaving him where he was, noisy and helpless. 

How long he remained so I cannot say, for suddenly and most unexpectedlyI found myself called upon to enter upon a new stage in my career. 

As my master leaned back hopelessly tipsy in his seat, a hand quietlyand swiftly slipped under his coat and drew me from my pocket; asswiftly the chain was detached from its button-hole, and the next thingI was conscious of was being thrust into a strange pocket, belonging tosome one who was quitting the hall as fast as his legs would carry him. 

CHAPTER FIFTEEN. 

HOW I FOUND MYSELF IN VERY LOW COMPANY. 

My capturer was a boy, and as remarkable a specimen of a boy as it hasever been my lot to meet during the whole of my career. His age was, say, fourteen. He stood four feet one in his slipshod boots. 

The hat which adorned his head was an old white billycock, which in itspalmy days might have adorned noble brows, so fashionable were itspretensions. Now, alas! it had one side caved in, and the other wasgreen with wear and weather. The coat which arrayed his manly form wasevidently one not made recently or to wearer's measure, for besidesshowing cracks and rents in various parts, its tails were soextravagantly long for its small occupant that they literally almosttouched the ground. His nether garments, on the other hand, althoughthey resembled the coat in their conveniences for ventilation, being allin rags and tatters, appeared to have been borrowed from a smaller pairof legs even than those owned by my present possessor, for they--atleast one leg--barely reached half way below the knee, while the otherstopped short very little lower. Altogether, the boy was as nondescriptand "scarecrowy" an object as one could well expect to meet with. 

As he left the hall he gave a quick look round to assure himself no onewas following him; then he darted across the road and proceeded toshuffle forward in so extremely leisurely and casual a way, that veryfew of the people who met him would have imagined he carried a stolenwatch in his pocket. 

Such a hole as it was! As soon as I had sufficiently recovered from myastonishment to look about me, I became aware that I was by no means thesole occupant of the receptacle he was pleased to designate by the titleof a pocket, but which other people would have called a slit in thelining of his one sound coat-tail. 

There was a stump of a clay pipe, with tobacco still hot in it. Therewas a greasy piece of string, a crust of bread, a halfpenny, a few brassbuttons, and a very greasy and very crumpled and very filthy copy of a"penny awful" paper. I need hardly say that this scrutiny did notafford me absolute pleasure. In the first place, my temporary lodgingwas most unsavoury and unclean; and in the second place, there was notone among my many fellow-lodgers who could be said to be in my positionin life, or to whom I felt in any way tempted to address any inquiry. 

This difficulty, however, was settled for me. A voice close beside mesaid, in a hoarse whisper, "What cheer, Turnip? how do you like it?"

I looked round, and perceived that the speaker was the clay pipe, whohappened to be close beside me as I lay. 

I held my nose--so to speak (for watches are not supposed to be giftedwith that organ)--the tobacco which was smouldering in him must havebeen a month old, while the pipe itself looked remarkably grimy anddirty. However, thought I, there would be no use in being uncivil to mynew comrades, unpleasant though they were, and I might as well make useof this pipe to assist me to certain information I was curious to get. So I answered, "I don't like it at all. Can you tell me where I am?"

"Where are you, Turnip? Why, you're in young Cadger's pocket, to besure; but you won't stay there long, no error. "

I secretly wished this objectionable pipe would not insist on addressingme as "Turnip, " but on the whole the present did not seem exactly thetime to stand on my dignity, so I replied, --

"Why, what's going to become of me?"

"What's going to become of you, Turnip! Why, you'll go to Cadger'suncle. Won't he, mate?"

The mate addressed was the piece of string, who, I should say, was by nomeans the latest addition to the Cadger's collection of valuables. Henow grinned and wriggled in reply to the pipe's appeal, and snuffled, --

"That's right, mate; that's where he'll go. Do you hear, Turnip? that'swhere you'll go--to Cadger's uncle. "

It occurred to me that Cadger's uncle would have to be vastly morerespectable and fragrant than his nephew to make the change at alladvantageous to me. 

"Is young Cadger a thief?" I next inquired. 

The pipe laughed. 

"Why, what a funny chap you are, Turnip!" it said. 

"Does it look like it? Cadger a thief!--oh, my eye! not at all. Eh, mate?"

The greasy string took up the laugh, and snivelled in chorus. 

"Ho, ho! ain't he a funny chap? Do you hear. Turnip? ain't you a funnychap? Oh, my eye! not at all. "

It was disgusting! Not only was I cooped up in an abominably filthytail-coat pocket, with a motley rabble of disreputable associates, butevery time I opened my lips here I was insulted and laughed at for everyword I spoke. 

However, I gathered that the purport of the reply to my last inquiry wasthat the young Cadger _was_ a thief, and I made one more attempt to gaininformation. 

"Where are we going to now?" I asked. 

"Going!" cried the pipe, with his insulting jeer. 

"What, don't you know where you're a-going, old Turnip? You're a-goingwherever he takes yer; ain't he, mate?"

It was positively painful to see how that vile piece of string wriggledas he replied, --

"Do you hear, Turnip? You're a-going wherever young Cadger takes yer. Now what do you think of that?"

It was impossible to continue a conversation with such low, ill-manneredcreatures, and I therefore abandoned the attempt, having at leastascertained that I was at present located in a thief's pocket, that myimmediate destination was vague, and that ultimately I might expect tobecome the property of a near relative of my present possessor. 

Noticing that I became silent, the pipe and the string between thembegan to question me. But I was neither in the mood nor the desire togratify their curiosity. They therefore contented themselves withcracking jokes at my expense, and thus we journeyed together a mile ortwo towards our unknown destination. 

Presently a dirty little hand came groping down into our place ofretreat. It first fumbled me and my chain, with a view, I suppose, toascertain if we were all safe, and then proceeded among the otheroccupants of the pocket to secure and draw forth the half penny which Ihave before mentioned. 

I was relieved to have even one of my unpleasant companions removed, andcould not refrain from expressing my feelings by a sigh. 

"What are you snivelling at, Turnip?" asked the pipe. 

I did not deign to reply. 

"Suppose yer think that there _sou_, " (fancy the stump of a clay pipespeaking French!) "is gone for good, and good riddance, do yer? Youwait a bit, that's all. "

"Boh, boh!" chimed in the string. "Do you hear, Turnip? Wait till yousee the soldier; then see how you'll laugh!"

"What soldier?" I inquired, my curiosity for a moment getting thebetter of my reserve. I could not imagine what possible connexion therecould be between the military and the disreputable copper I had solately seen depart. 

I was not long in suspense, however, for before my two vulgar companionscould answer my question, the "soldier" made his appearance. 

The dirty little hand again entered our quarters, and let fall in ourmidst a red herring! At the sight and smell of him I turned sick withdisgust. Fancy a silver watch sat upon, squeezed, and besmeared by areeking red herring. He came sprawling right on the top of me, thebrute, his ugly mouth wide open and his loathsome fins scraping along myback. Ugh!

"That there's the soldier, Turnip; ain't it, mate?" called out the pipe. 

"Do you hear, Turnip? this here's the soldier. How do you like him?"snuffled the string. 

It was enough! I felt my nerves collapse, and my circulation fail, andfor the remainder of that dreadful night I was speechless. 

I was not, however, blind, or so far gone as to be unable to notice in avague sort of way what happened. 

The young gentleman rejoicing in the name of Cadger (but whose realcognomen I subsequently ascertained to be Stumpy Walker) proceeded onhis walk, whistling shrilly to himself, exchanging a passing recognitionwith one and another loafer, and going out of his way to kick every boyhe saw smaller than himself, which last exertion, by the way, at twelveo'clock at night he did not find very often necessary. 

I observed that he did not go out of his way to avoid the police; on thecontrary, he made a point of touching his hat to every guardian of thepeace he happened to meet, and actually went so far as to inform onethat "he'd want his muckintogs before morning"--a poetical way ofprophesying rain. 

He proceeded down a succession of back streets, which it would havepuzzled a stranger to remember, till he came into a large desertedthoroughfare which was undergoing a complete renovation of its drainagearrangements. All along the side of the road extended an array of hugenew pipes, some three feet in diameter, awaiting their turn underground. Into one of these Master Walker dived, and as it was just tall enoughto allow of his sitting upright in its interior, and just long enough toallow his small person to lie at full length without either extremityprotruding; and further, as the rain was just beginning to come down, Icould not forbear, even in the midst of my misery, admiring hisselection of a lodging. 

Greatly to my relief, the "soldier, " the crust, and the pipe were allthree presently summoned from the pocket, and with the help of the firsttwo and the consolation of the last, Master Walker contrived to make anevening meal which at least afforded _him_ satisfaction. 

Before making himself snug for the night he pulled me out, and by theaid of the feeble light of a neighbouring lamp-post, made a hastyexamination of my exterior and interior. Having apparently satisfiedhimself as to my value, he put me and the pipe back into his dreadfulpocket, from which, even yet, the fumes of the "soldier" had not faded, and then curled himself up like a dormouse and composed himself toslumber. 

He had not, however, settled himself many moments before another raggedfigure came crawling down the inside of the pipes towards him. Stumpystarted up at the first sound in a scared sort of way, but instantlyresumed his composure on seeing who the intruder was. 

"What cheer, Stumpy?" said the latter. 

"What cheer, Tuppeny?" replied my master. "Where've yer been to?"

"Lunnon Bridge, " replied Mr Tuppeny. 

"An' what 'ave yer got?" asked Stumpy. 

"Only a rag, " said the other, in evident disgusts producing a whitehandkerchief. 

"That ain't much; I've boned a turnip. "

"Jus' your luck. Let's 'ave a look at him. "

Stumpy complied, and his comrade, lighting a match, surveyed me withevident complacency. 

"Jus' your luck, " said he again. "Where did yer git 'im?"

"At the gaff, off a young cove as was reg'lar screwed up. I could 'avetook 'is nose off if I'd a wanted it, and he wouldn't have knowed. "

"Then this 'ere rag might 'a been some use, " replied the disconsolateTuppeny. "'Tain't worth three'a'pence. "

"Any marks?" inquired my master. 

"Yees; there is so. C. N. It is; hup in one corner. He was sticking outof the pocket of a young chap as was going along with a face as long asa fooneral, and as miserable-lookin' as if 'e'd swallowed a cat. "

C. N. ! Could this handkerchief possibly have belonged to poor CharlieNewcome? His way home from Grime Street I knew would lead by LondonBridge, and with the trouble of that afternoon upon him, would he notindeed have looked as miserable as the thief described?

And these two boys, having thus briefly compared notes, and exhibited toone another their ill-gotten gains, curled themselves up and fell fastasleep. 

Dear reader, does it ever occur to your mind that there are hundreds ofsuch vagrants in this great city? Night after night they crowd underrailway arches and sheds, on doorsteps and in cellars. They haveneither home nor friend. To many of them the thieves' life is theirnatural calling; they live as animals live, and hope only as animalshope, and when they die, die as animals die; ignorant of God, ignorantof good, ignorant of their own souls. Yet even for such as they, Christdied, and the Spirit strives. 

The pipe, and his friend, the string, that night had a long conversationas their master lay asleep. They evidently thought I was asleep too, for they made no effort to conceal their voices, and I consequentlyheard every word. 

It chiefly had reference to me, and was in the main satirical. 

"Some coves is uncommon proud o' themselves, mate, ain't they?--particular them as ain't much account after all?"

"You're right, mate. Do you hear, Turnip? you ain't much account;you're on'y silver-plate, yer know, so you don't ought to be proud, youdon't!"

"What I say, " continued the pipe, "is that coves as gives 'emselveshairs above their stations is a miserable lot. What do _you_ think?"

"What don't I?" snuffled the string. "Do you hear, Turnip? you're amiserable cove, you are. Why can't you be 'appy like me and my mate?We don't give ourselves hairs; that's why we're 'appy. "

"And, arter all, " pursued the pipe, "that's the sort of coves as gosecond-hand in the end. People 'ud think better on 'em if they didn'tthink such a lot of theirselves; wouldn't they now, mate?"

"Wouldn't they just! What do you think of that, Turnip? You're on'y asecond-hand turnip, now, and that's all along of being stuck-up andthinking such a lot of yourself! You won't go off for thirty bob, youwon't see!"

"Mate!" exclaimed the pipe, presently (after I had had leisure tomeditate on the foregoing philosophical dialogue), "mate, I'll give youa riddle!"

"Go it!" said the mate. 

"Why, " asked the pipe, in a solemn voice, "is a second-hand pewter-plate, stuck-up turnip, like a weskit that ain't paid for?"

"Do you hear, Turnip? Why are you like a weskit that ain't paid for?Do yer give it up? I do. "

"'Cos it's on tick!" pronounced the pipe. 

I could have howled to find myself the victim of such a low, villainousjoke, that had not even the pretence of wit, and I could have cried tosee how that greasy string wriggled and snuffled at my expense. 

"My eye, mate! that's a good 'un! Do you hear, Turnip? you're on tick, you know, like the weskit. Oh, my eye! that'll do, mate; another o'them will kill me. Oh, turn it up! do you hear? On tick!-- hoo, hoo, hoo! Do you hear, Turnip? _tick_!"

Need I say I spent a sad and sleepless night? When my disgust admittedof thought I could not help reflecting how very happy some vulgar peoplecan be with a very little sense, and how very unhappy other people whoflatter themselves they are very clever and superior can at times findthemselves. 

By the time I had satisfied myself of this my master uncurled himselfand got up. 

CHAPTER SIXTEEN. 

HOW I CHANGED MASTERS TWICE IN TWO DAYS, AND AFTER ALL FOUND MYSELF INPAWN. 

It was scarcely four o'clock when my lord and master arose from hisbrief repose, and sallied through the rain and darkness back in thedirection of the city. He was far less anxious to salute the police nowthan he had been a few hours ago. He slunk down the back streets, andnow and then darted up a court at the sound of approaching foot steps;or retreated for some distance by the way he had come, in order tostrike a less guarded street. 

In this manner he pursued his way for about an hour, till he reached avery narrow street of tumble-down houses, not far from Holborn. Downthis he wended his way till he stood before a door belonging to one ofthe oldest, dingiest, and most decayed houses in all the street. Herehe gave a peculiar scrape with his foot along the bottom of the door, and then sat down on the doorstep. 

Presently a voice came through the keyhole, in a whisper. 

"That you, Stumpy?" it said. 

"Yas, " replied my master. 

"All clear?"

Stumpy looked up and down the street and then hurriedly whispered, "No. "

Instantly the voice within was silent, and Stumpy was to all appearancesleeping soundly and heavily, as if tired nature in him had fairlyreached its last strait. 

The distant footsteps came nearer; and still he slept on, snoring gentlyand regularly. The policeman advanced leisurely, turning his lanternfirst on this doorway, then on that window; trying now a shutter-bar, then a lock. At last he stood opposite the doorstep where Stumpy lay. It was a critical moment. He turned his lamp full on the boy's sleepingface, he took hold of his arm and gently shook him, he tried the bolt ofthe door against which he leaned. The sleeper only grunted drowsily andsettled down to still heavier slumber, and the policeman, evidentlysatisfied, walked on. 

"Is he gone?" asked the voice within, the moment the retreatingfootsteps showed this. 

"Yas, but he'll be back, " whispered the boy. 

And so he was. Three times he paced the street, and every time foundthe boy in the same position, and wrapped in the same profound slumber. Then at last he strode slowly onward to the end of his beat, and hisfootsteps died gradually away. 

"Now?" inquired the voice. 

"Yas, " replied Stumpy. 

Whereat the door half-opened, and Stumpy entered. 

It was a dirty, half-ruinous house, in which the rats had grown tame andthe spiders fat. The stairs creaked dismally as Stumpy followed hisentertainer up them, while the odours rising from every nook and crannyin the place were almost suffocating. 

The man led the way into a small room, foul and pestilential in itscloseness. In it lay on the floor no less than nine or ten sleepingfigures, mostly juveniles, huddled together, irrespective of decency, health, or comfort. Stumpy surveyed the scene composedly. 

"Got lodgers, then, " he observed. 

"Yes, two on 'em--on'y penny ones, though. "

Just then a sound of moaning came from one corner of the room, whicharrested Stumpy's attention. 

"Who's that?" he asked. 

"Old Sal; she's bad, and I reckon she won't last much longer the wayshe's a-going on. I shall pack her off to-day. "

Stumpy whistled softly; but it was evident, by the frequent glances hestole every now and then towards the corner where the sufferer lay, thathe possessed a certain amount of interest in the woman described as "OldSal. "

The man who appeared to be the proprietor of this one well-filledlodging-room was middle-aged, and had a hare-lip. He had an expressionhalf careworn, and half villainous, of which he gave Stumpy the fullbenefit as he inquired. 

"What 'ave yer got?"

"Got, pal?" replied Stumpy; "a ticker. "

"Hand it up, " said the man, hurriedly. 

Stumpy produced me, and the man, taking me to the candle, examined megreedily and minutely. 

Then he said, --

"I shall get fifteen bob for him. "

"Come, now, none of your larks!" replied Stumpy, who had produced thepipe, and was endeavouring to rekindle its few remaining embers at thecandle; "try ag'in. "

"Well, I don't see as he'll fetch seventeen-and-six, but I'll do it for_you_. "

"Try ag'in, " coolly replied Stumpy. 

The man did try again, and named a sovereign, which my master alsodeclined. 

In this manner he advanced to twenty-four shillings. 

"Won't do, " said Stumpy. 

"Then you can take 'im off, " said the man, with an oath; "he ain't worththe money. "

"Yas 'e is, an' a tanner more, " put in Stumpy. 

The man uttered a few more oaths, and again examined me. Then hedropped me in his pocket, and slowly counted out the purchase-money froma drawer at his side. 

Stumpy watched the process eagerly, doubtless calculating withprofessional interest how the entire hoard of this thieves' broker couldat some convenient opportunity be abstracted. However, for the presenthe made sure of the sum given him, and dropped the coins one by one intohis tail pocket. 

"Now lay down, " said the man, "and make yourself comfortable. "

I fancy Stumpy was a good deal more comfortable in his drain-pipe anhour or two ago than in this foul, choking lodging-room; however, hecurled himself up on the floor near the dying woman, and did his sharein exhausting the air of the apartment. 

I should offend all rules of good taste and decency if I described theloathsome room; I wish I could forget it, but that I shall never do. Suffice it to say daylight broke in at last on the squalid scene, andthen one by one the sleepers rose and departed--all but Stumpy and shewhose groaning had risen ceaselessly and hopelessly the livelong night. 

"Old Sal's very bad, " said Stumpy to his host. 

"Yas, she'll have to clear out of here. "

"She's nigh dying, I reckon, " said the boy. 

"Can't help that; she ain't paid a copper this three weeks, and I ain'ta-going to have her lumbering up my place no longer. "

"Where's she a-going to?" asked Stumpy. 

"How do I know?--out of 'ere, anyways, and pretty soon, too. I can tellyer. "

"Pal, " said the boy, after a long pause, "I charged yer a tanner toomuch for that there ticker; here you are, lay hold. "

And he tossed back the sixpence. The man understood quite well themeaning of the act, and Old Sal lay undisturbed all that day. 

Stumpy took his departure early. I have never seen him since; what hasbecome of him I know not; where he is now I know still less. 

But to return to myself. I spent that entire day in the man's pocket, too ill to care what became of me, and too weak to notice much of whatpassed around me. I was conscious of others like Stumpy coming up thecreaking stairs and offering their ill-gotten gains as he had done; andI was conscious towards evening, when the last rays of the setting sunwere struggling feebly through the dingy window, of a groan in thatdismal corner, deeper than all that had gone before. Then I knew OldSal was dead. In an hour the body was laid in its rude coffin, and hadmade its last journey down those stairs: and that night another outcastslept in her corner. 

The night was like the one which had preceded it, foul and sickening. Iwas thankful that my illness had sufficiently deadened my senses torender me unable to hear and see all that went on during those hours. Morning came at length, and one by one the youthful lodgers took theirdeparture. When the last had left, my possessor produced a bag, intowhich he thrust me, with a score or more of other articles acquired as Ihad been acquired; then, locking the door behind him, he descended thestairs and stepped out. 

Oh, the delight of that breath of fresh morning air! Even as itstruggled in through the crevices and cracks of that old bag, it waslike a breath of Paradise, after the vile, pestilential atmosphere ofthat room!

As we went on, I had leisure to observe the company of which I formedone. What a motley crew we were! There were watches, snuff-boxes, andpencils, bracelets and brooches, handkerchiefs and gloves, studs, pins, and rings--all huddled together higgledy-piggledy. We none of us spoketo one another, nor inquired whither we were going; we were a sad, spiritless assembly, and to some of us it mattered little what became ofus. 

Still I could not help wondering if the man in whose possession I and myfellow-prisoners found ourselves was Stumpy's "uncle, " referred to bythat miserable clay pipe. If he was, I felt I could not candidlycongratulate that youth on his relative. What he could want with us allI could not imagine. 

If I had been the only watch, and if there hadn't been half a dozenscarf-pins, snuff-boxes, and pencils, it would not have been soextraordinary. It would have been easy enough to imagine the person ofStumpy's "aunt" decorated with one brooch, two bracelets, and three orfour rings; but when instead of that modest allowance these articleswere present by the half-dozen, it was hardly possible to believe thatany one lady could accommodate so much splendour. How ever, I couldonly suppose the superfluous treasures were destined for Stumpy'scousins, masculine and feminine, and occupied the rest of the journey inthe harmless amusement of wondering to whose lot I was likely to fall. 

The man walked some considerable distance, and strangely enough bent hissteps in a direction not far removed from Saint Elizabeth's Hospital. Surely he was not going to restore me to Tom Drift! No; we passed theend of Grime Street. There were milkmen's carts rattling up and down;servants were scrubbing doorsteps; and a few sleepy-looking men, withtheir breakfasts in their hands, were scurrying off to work. It was allthe same as usual; yet how interesting, all of a sudden, the dull streethad become to me. It was here I had last seen poor Charlie, outragedand struck by the friend he strove to save, creeping slowly home; it washere Tom Drift still dwelt, daily sinking in folly and sin, with nofriend now left to help him. Poor Tom Drift! How gladly would I havereturned to him, even to be neglected and ill-used, if only I might havethe opportunity once again of fulfilling that charge put upon me by myfirst master, and which yet ever rang in my ears, --

"Be good to Tom Drift. "

But it was not to be yet. The man walked rapidly on down a streetparallel with Grime Street, at the farthest corner of which stood asmall private house. 

Here he knocked. 

The occupant of the house evidently knew and expected him, for he atonce admitted him, and led the way upstairs into a private parlour. Here the thieves' broker emptied the contents of his bag, laying thearticles one by one on the table. 

The man of the house looked on in an unconcerned way while this wastaking place, picking up now one, now another of the objects, andexamining them superficially. When the bag was empty, and the whole ofthe ill-gotten booty displayed, he remarked, "Not so much this time, Bill. "

"No; trade's bad, sir, " replied he who owned the bag. 

"Well, I'll send the most of 'em down to the country to-day, " resumedthe master of the house. 

"When shall I call, sir?" inquired Stumpy's friend. 

"Monday. But look here, Bill!" said the other, taking me up, "it's nouse leaving this; I shall be able to manage the gold ones, but this isno good. "

I had long lost the pride which in former days would have made me resentsuch a remark, and patiently waited for the result. 

Stumpy's friend took me back. "Well, " he said, "if you can't, youcan't. I'll see to him myself. Well, good-day; and I'll call onMonday. "

And he turned to depart, with me in his hand. In a minute, however, hecame back. "Would yer mind lending me some togs, sir, for a fewminutes?" said he; "I don't want no questions asked at the pawnshop. "

And he certainly did not look, in his present get-up, as the likeliestsort of owner of a silver watch. The man of the house, however, lenthim some clothes, in which he arrayed himself, and which so transformedhim that any one would have taken him, not for the disreputable thieves'broker he was, but for the unfortunate decayed gentleman he professed tobe. In this guise he had no difficulty in disposing of me at thenearest pawnbroker's shop, which happened to be at the corner of GrimeStreet. 

The pawnbroker asked no questions, and I am sure never suspectedanything wrong. He advanced thirty shillings on me and the chain, gavethe man his ticket, and put a corresponding one on me. 

Then Stumpy's friend departed, and my new master went back to hisbreakfast. 

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN. 

HOW TOM DRIFT GETS LOWER STILL. 

Two years passed. 

They were, without exception, the dullest two years I, or, I venture tosay, any watch made, ever spent. There I lay, run down, tarnished andneglected, on the pawnbroker's shelf, never moved, never used, neverthought of. Week followed week, and month month, and still no claimantfor me came. 

Other articles on the shelves beside me came and went, some remainingonly a day, some a week, but I survived them all. Even my friend thechain took his departure, and left me without a soul to speak to. 

None of the hundreds of tickets handed in bore the magic number 2222, which would have released me from my ignoble custody, and, in time, Igave up expecting it, and settled down to the old-fogeydom of myposition, and exacted all the homage due to the "father of the shop"from my restless companions. 

My place was at the end of a long shelf, next to the screen dividing theshop from the office, and my sole amusement during those two drearyyears was peeping through a crack and watching my master's customers. They were of all sorts and all conditions, and many of them becamefamiliar. 

There was the little girl, for instance, the top of whose bonnet justreached as high as the counter, who, regularly every Monday morning, staggered in under the weight of a bundle containing her father's Sundayclothes, and, as regularly every Saturday evening, returned to redeemthem. It was evident her respectable parent did not attend many eveningparties between those two days, for I never remember his sending forthem except at the regular times. 

Then there was the wretched drunkard, who crept in stealthily, with nowa child's coat, now a picture, now a teapot; and with the money thusraised walked straight across the road to the public-house. And therewas his haggard, worn wife, who always came next day with the ticket, and indignantly took back her household goods. There was the youngsailor's wife, too, with her baby in her arms, who came rarely at first, but afterwards more often, to pawn her few poor treasures, until atlength a glad day came when the brawny tar himself, with his pocketsfull of cash, came with her and redeemed them every one. 

I could tell of scores of others if I wished, but I have my own life torecord, and not the transactions of my master, the pawnbroker. 

One day, towards the end of the first year, the door opened softly andquickly, and there entered into the office a youth, haggard andreckless-looking, whom, I thought, surely I had seen before. I lookedagain. 

Was it possible? Yes! this was none other than Tom Drift! But oh, howchanged! A year ago, erring and wayward as he had been, he was yetrespectable; his dress was the dress of a gentleman; his bearing wasthat of a gentleman too; his face had been naturally intelligent andpleasant; and his voice clear and cheerful. But now! There was a wild, restless roll about his eyes, a bright flush on his hollow cheeks, adulness about his mouth, a hoarseness in his voice, which seemed tobelong to another being. He was dissipated and seedy in appearance, andhung his head, as though ashamed to meet a fellow-being's look, and, instead of one, looked at least ten years older than he had. 

Such a wreck will evil ways make of a youth! He looked eagerly round, to see that no one but he was in the office, and then produced from hispocket a scarf-pin. 

"What will you give me for this?" he whispered. 

The pawnbroker took it up and turned it over. It was a handsome pin, with a pearl in the front. 

"Ten shillings, " said the pawnbroker. 

"What!" exclaimed Tom; "do you know what it's worth?"

"Ten shillings is all I can give you, " curtly replied the pawnbroker. 

Tom gulped down a groan. "Give me the money, then, for goodness' sake, "he said. 

The pawnbroker coolly and deliberately made out the ticket, while Tomstood chafing impatiently. 

"Be quick, please!" he said, as though fearful of some one detecting himin a crime. 

"Don't you be in a hurry, " said the pawnbroker. 

"Here's the ticket. "

"And the ten shillings?" broke in Tom. 

"You shall have it, " said my master, going to his drawer. 

To Tom it seemed ages while the silver was being counted, and when hehad got it he darted from the shop as swiftly as he had entered it. 

"That fellow's going wrong, " muttered the pawnbroker to himself, as helaid the pin on the shelf beside me. 

I recognised it at once as having often been my companion on Tom'sdressing-table at nights, but I myself was so discoloured and ill thatit did not at first know me. I was too anxious, however, to hear something about Tom to allow myself to remain disguised. 

"Don't you know me, scarf-pin?" I asked. 

He looked hard at me. "Not a bit, " he said. 

"I'm Tom Drift's old watch. "

"You don't say so! So you are! How ever did you come here? Did hepawn you?"

"No; I was stolen from him one night at the music-hall, and pawned hereby the thief. "

"Ah, that music-hall!" groaned the pin; "that place has ruined TomDrift. "

"When I left him, " I said, "he was just going to the bad as hard as hecould. He had broken with his best friend, and seemed completely--"

"Hold hard! what friend?" interposed the pin. 

"Charlie Newcome, my first master; they had a quarrel the day I wasstolen. "

"That must be nearly two years ago?" said the pin. 

"Just, " said I. "Do tell me what has happened since then. "

"It's a long story, " said the pin. 

"Never mind, we've nothing else to do here, " I said encouragingly. 

"Well, " said the pin, "the night you were lost Tom never turned up athome at all. "

"He was utterly drunk, " I said, by way of explanation. 

"Don't you interrupt, " said the pin, "or I won't tell you anything. "

I was silenced. 

"Tom never turned up at all until the next morning; and he sat all thatday in his chair, and did nothing but look at the wall in front of him. "

"Poor fellow!" I could not help saying. 

"There you go!" said the pin; "be good enough to remember what I said, and if you can't endure to hear of anybody sitting and looking at awail, it's no use my going on with my story. "

"I only meant that I could imagine how miserable he was that day, " saidI; "but go on, please. "

"Two or three days after, Charlie Newcome called. Tom was alone, but herefused to see him. He cursed to himself when he heard the name. Charlie went back disappointed, but Tom made a great boast to his`friends' that same night of his `cold shoulder to the prig, ' as hecalled it, and they highly applauded him for his sense. 

"Again, a week later, Charlie called once more, but with the sameresult. He wrote letters, but Tom put them in the fire unread; he sentbooks, but they were all flung into a corner. In a thousand differentways he contrived to show Tom that, though ill-used and in suited, hewas still his friend, and ready to serve him whenever opportunity shouldoffer. 

"All this while Tom was sinking lower and lower in self-respect. He wascontracting a habit of drinking, and in a month or two after you hadleft he rarely came home sober. "

"And what about his bad friends?" asked I. 

"There you are! why can't you let me tell my story in peace? His badfriends visited him daily at first, made a lot of him, and praised himloudly for his resolution in dismissing Charlie, and for his `growing aman at last. ' They lent him money, they lost to him at cards andbilliards, and they made his downward path as easy for him as possible. 

"At last, about six months ago, Tom was found tipsy in the dissecting-room at the hospital, and cautioned by the Board. A fortnight later hewas found in a similar state in one of the wards, and then he wassummarily expelled from the place, and his name was struck off the rollof students. "

"Has it come to that?" I groaned. 

"Come to that? Of course it has; I shouldn't have said so if ithadn't, " replied the testy pin, who seemed unable to brook the slightestinterruption. "He took a fit of blues after that; he went to the Board, and begged to be allowed to return to his studies, representing that allhis prospects in life depended on his finishing his course there. Theygave him one more chance. In his gratitude he resolved to discard hiscompanions, and actually sat down and wrote a letter to Charlie, begginghim to come and see him. "

"Did he really?" I exclaimed, trembling with eagerness. 

"All right, I shall not tell you of it again. Stop me once more, andyou'll have to find the rest of my story out for yourself. "

"I'm very sorry, " said I. 

"So you ought to be. When it came to the time, however, Tom'sresolutions failed him. Gus and his friends called as usual thatevening and laughed him to scorn. He dare not quarrel with them, darenot resist them. He crumpled up the letter in his pocket and neverposted it, and that night returned to his evil ways without a struggle. 

"For a week or two, however, he kept up appearances at the hospital; butit could not last. A misdemeanour more serious than the former onecaused his second expulsion, and this time with an intimation that underno circumstances would he be readmitted. That was three months ago. Hebecame desperate, and at the same time the behaviour of Gus altered. Instead of flattering and humouring him, he became imperious andspiteful. And still further, he demanded to be repaid the money he hadadvanced to Tom. Tom paid what little he could, and borrowed the restfrom Mortimer. He got behindhand with his rent, and his landlady hasgiven him notice. As usual, everybody to whom he owes money has foundout his altered circumstances, and is down on him. The keeper of themusic-hall, the tailor, the cigar merchant, are among the most urgent. "

"And your being here is a result of all this, I see, " said I, knowingthe story was at an end, and considering my tongue to be released. 

"Find out!" angrily retorted the pin, relapsing into ill-temperedsilence. 

I had little enough inclination to revert to the sad topic, and for therest of that day gave myself up to sorrow and pity for Tom Drift. Onething I felt pretty sure of--it would not be long before he came again;and I was right. 

In two days he entered the office, wild and haggard as before, but withless care to conceal his visit. 

This time he laid on the counter the famous lance-wood fishing-rod whichCharlie had given him months ago, and which surely ought to have been areminder to him of better times. 

He flung it down, and taking the few shillings the pawnbroker advancedon it, hurried from the shop. 

The next time he came some one else was in the shop. A passing flushcame over Tom's face on discovering a witness to his humiliation; but hetransacted his business with an assumed swagger which ill accorded withhis inward misery. For even yet Tom Drift had this much of hope left inhim--that he knew he was fallen, and was miserable at the thought. Hisself-respect and sensitiveness had been growing less day by day, and hehimself growing proportionately hardened; but still he knew what remorsewas, and by the very agony of his shame was still held out of the lowestof all depths--the depths of ruthless sin. 

The stranger in the shop eyed him keenly, and when he had gone said tothe pawnbroker, "He's a nice article, he is!"

"Not much good, I'm thinking, " observed the pawnbroker, dryly. 

"So you may say; I know the beauty. He banged me on the 'ed with achair once, when he was screwed. Never mind, I know of two or three asis after him. "

And so saying, the disreputable man departed. 

After that Tom came daily. Now it was an article of clothing, now somebooks, now some furniture, that he brought. It was soon evident thatnot only was he miserable and destitute, but ill too; and when presentlyfor a fortnight he never passed the now well-known door, I knew that thefever had laid him low. 

Poor Tom Drift! I wondered who was there now to nurse him in hisweakness and comfort him in his wretchedness. He must be untended andunheeded. Well I knew his "friends" (oh, sad perversion of the sacredtitle!) would keep their distance, or return only in time to quench thefirst sparks of repentance. If only Charlie could have seen him at thistime, with his spirit cowed and his weary heart beating about in vainfor peace and hope, how would he not have flown to his bedside, and fromthose ruins have striven to help him to rise again to purity andhonesty. 

But no Charlie was there. Since the last appealing letter so scornfullyrejected, Tom had heard not a word of him or from him. What wonderindeed if after so many disappointments and insults, the boy should atlength leave his old schoolfellow to his fate?

With returning health there came to Tom no returning resolutions orefforts. The friends who had deserted his sick-bed were ready, as soonas ever he rose from it, with their temptations and baneful influence. One of his first visits after his recovery was to my master with a pairof boots. He looked so pale and feeble that the pawnbroker inquiredafter his health--a most unusual departure from business on the part ofthat merchant. 

"Hope you're feeling better, " he said. 

"Yes; so much the better for you, " replied Tom with a ghastly smile. "What can you give me for these, they are nearly new?"

"Five shillings?"

"Oh, anything you like; I've to pay two pounds to-morrow. What you giveme is all I shall have to do it with--I don't care!"

The pawnbroker counted out the five shillings, and handed them acrossthe counter. 

"Good-bye!" said Tom, with another attempt at a smile; "I shall have tochange my address to-morrow. "

And with that he turned on his heel. I watched him through the windowas he left the shop. He walked straight across the road and went in atthe public-house opposite. 

And that glimpse was the last sight I had of Tom Drift for many, manymonths. 

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN. 

HOW I WAS KNOCKED DOWN BY AN AUCTIONEER, AND PICKED UP BY A COUNTRYMAN. 

One day, about two years after my arrival at the pawnbroker's shop, anunusual circumstance happened to break the monotony of my unruffledexistence. This was nothing more nor less than a Clearance Sale. Imust tell you how it happened. 

For a week, every night, I saw my master poring over a big account-bookin his parlour, comparing the entries in it with those of his pawn-tickets, and marking off on one list what articles had been pawned andredeemed, and on another what had been pawned and still remainedunredeemed. So lengthy and complicated a process was this that itconsumed the entire week. The next week further indications of a comingchange manifested themselves. A printer came to the office with a billfor approval, worded as follows:--

 "Great Clearance Sale! The entire valuable and miscellaneous unredeemed stock of a pawnbroker will be sold by auction at the Central Mart, on Monday next, by Mr Hammer. Sale to commence at twelve o'clock precisely. Catalogues will be ready on Saturday, and may be had on application. "

Thus I, and one or two of my neighbours on the shelf, read as we peepedthrough the crack at the printer's proof-sheet. 

"`Entire valuable and miscellaneous unredeemed stock!' that's a good bitof writing, " observed a pair of silver sugar-tongs near me; "that meansyou and me and the rest, Ticker. Who'd have thought of us getting sucha grand name!"

"Well, it strikes me we, at least I, have been lying here idle longenough, " said I; "it's two years since I came here. "

"Bless you, that's no time, " said the tongs. "I knew a salt-spoon layonce ten years before he was put up--but then, you know, we silverthings are worth our money any time. "

"Yes, " said I, "we are. "

The tongs laughed. "You don't suppose I meant you when I talked ofsilver things, do you?"

"Of course I am a silver watch. "

"You're a bigger muff than I took you for, " replied the aristocratictongs, turning his hall-mark towards me. It was humiliating. Of courseI ought to have known I was not solid silver, and had no claim to classmyself of the same metal as a genuine silver pair of tongs. 

It was but one of many painful lessons I have had during my life not togive myself airs beyond my station. 

These solid silver goods certainly constituted the "upper ten thousand"of our valuable and miscellaneous community. When the time came forcataloguing us all, they separated themselves from the rest of us, andformed a distinct society, having their several names recorded in fullat the head of the list. 

What a scene it was the day the catalogue came to our department! Isuffered a further humiliation then by being almost entirely overlooked. A great tray of silver watches lay on the bench, brought together fromall parts of the shop; and, to my horror, I found I was not among them. 

"That's the lot, " said the pawnbroker. 

"Very good, " said the auctioneer, who was making the catalogue; "shallwe take leather bags next?"

"As you please, " said my master. 

"Hold hard, " said the auctioneer, hastily counting the watches on thetray and comparing the number with a list he held in his hand, "there'sone short. "

"Is there? I don't know how that can be. "

"You've got twenty-two down here and there's only twenty-one on thetray. "

The pawnbroker looked puzzled. 

"Better call over the number, " said the auctioneer. So my master calledout the number attached to each watch, and the auctioneer ticked it offon his list. When the last had been called, he said, --

"Where's Number 2222?"

"Ah, to be sure, that's the one, " said the pawnbroker, reaching up towhere I lay, and taking me down; "this one. I'd forgotten all abouthim. "

Flattering, certainly! and still more so when the auctioneer, surveyingmy tarnished and dingy appearance, said, "Well, he's not much of a showafter all. You'd better rub him up a bit, or we shan't get him off handat all. "

"Very good, " said the pawnbroker, and I was handed over forthwith to anassistant to be cleaned. And much I needed it. My skin was nearly asblack as a negro's, and my joints and muscles were perfectly cloggedwith dust. I had a regular watch's Turkish bath. I was scrubbed andpowdered, my works were taken out and cleaned, my joints were oiled, myface was washed, and my hands were polished. Altogether I wasoverhauled, and when I took my place on the tray with my twenty-onecompanions I was altogether a new being, and by no means the leastpresentable of the company. 

How we quarrelled and wrangled, and shouldered one another on that tray!There was such a Babel of voices (for each of us had been set going)that scarcely any one could hear himself speak. Nothing butrecriminations and vituperations rose on every hand. 

"Get out of the way, ugly lever, " snarled one monstrous hunter watchnear me, big enough for an ordinary clock. "Who do you suppose wantsyou? Get out of the way, do you hear?"

"Where to?" I inquired, not altogether liking to be so summarilyordered about, and yet finding the excitement of a little quarrelpleasant after two years' monotony. 

"Anywhere, as long as you get out of my way. Do you know I'm a hundredyears old?"

"Are you, though?" said I. "People must have had bigger pockets inthose days than they have now!"

This I considered a very fair retort for his arrogance, and left himsnorting and croaking to himself, and bullying some other littlewatches, whom, I suppose, he imagined would be more deferential to hisgrey hairs than I was. 

I was not destined, however, to be left in peace. 

"Who are you?" I heard a sharp voice say. Looking round, I saw acreature with a great eye in the middle of his face, and a long, lankyhand spinning round and round over his visage. 

"Who are _you_, rather?" I replied. 

It was evidently what he wanted, for he began at once: "I'm all thelatest improvements--compensation balance and jewelled in four holes;perfect for time, beauty, and workmanship; sound, strong, and accurate;with keyless action, and large full-dial second hand; air-tight, damp-tight, and dust-tight; seven guineas net and five per cent, toteetotalers. There, what do you think of that?"

"I think, " said I, with a laugh, in which a good many others joined, "that if you're so tight as all that teetotalers had better do withoutyou. "

It will be observed the scenes and company I had been in of late yearshad tended to improve neither my temper nor my manners. 

In this way we spent most of the day before the auction, and it wasquite a relief early next morning to find ourselves being removed to the"Central Mart. "

It was impossible, however, to resist the temptation of another quarrelin our tray while we were waiting for the sale to begin. The culprit inthis instance was a certain Queen Anne's shilling attached to the chainof an insignificant-looking watch. 

"What business has that ugly bit of tin here?" asked a burly hunter. 

"Who calls me an ugly bit of tin?" squeaked out the coin. 

"I do; there!" said the hunter; "now what have you got to say?"

"Only that you're a falsehood. Why, you miserable, machine-made, wheezing, old make-believe of a turnip--"

"Draw it mild, young fellow, " said the hunter. 

"Do you know that I was current coin of the realm before the tin minethat supplied your carcass was so much as discovered? I'm a QueenAnne's shilling!"

"Are you, though? And what good are you now, my ancient Bob?"

The shilling grew, so to speak, black in the face. 

"I won't be called a Bob! I'm not a Bob! Who dares call me a Bob?"

"I do, Bob; there, Bob. What do you think of that, Bob? What's the useof you, Bob, eh? Can _you_ tell the time, Bob, eh, Bob, Bob, Bob?"

And we all took up the cry, and from that moment until the time of oursale every sound, for us, was drowned in a ceaseless cry of "Bob!" inthe midst of which the unlucky Queen Anne's shilling crawled under hiswatch, and devoutly wished he were as undoubtedly dead as theillustrious royal lady whose image and superscription he had themisfortune to bear. 

In due time the sale began. Among the earliest lots I recognised myacquaintance the solid silver sugar-tongs, which went for very nearlyhis full value, thus confirming me in my belief that, after all, there'snothing like the genuine thing all the world over. 

After the disposal of the silver goods--for which comparatively fewpeople bid, and that with little or no competition--the real excitementof the auction began. 

"I have here, ladies and gentlemen, " said the auctioneer, "a remarkablyfine and superior lot of silver watches, all of which have beencarefully cleaned and kept in order, and which, I can safely say, areequal to, if not better than, new. In many cases the watches areaccompanied by chains of a very elegant and chaste description, whichappendages considerably enhance their value. When I inform you that wevalue the contents of this tray, at the very lowest, at £90, being anaverage of £4 per watch, you will see I am not presenting to you anyordinary lot of goods. I will put up the watches singly in the order inwhich they are described in the catalogue. "

Some of the company looked as if they were not sure whether they oughtnot to say "Hear, hear!" after this very elegant and polished speech, but they restrained their admiration, and reserved their energies forthe bidding. 

As I was last on the list I had full opportunity of noticing how myfellows fared, and was specially curious to see how the three or fourwatches whose acquaintance I had chanced to make went off. 

The common-looking watch with the unlucky "Bob" attached to its chainwas knocked down for £3 5 shillings, which, on the whole, was a triumphto the mortified coin, for it is certain without him the lot would nothave fetched nearly so much, and his triumph was further enhanced by thefact that the hunter with whom he had had his altercation fetched only£2 17 shillings 6 pence. However, there was no time for jeers andrecriminations at present, we were all too deeply absorbed in watchingthe fate of our fellows and speculating on our own. 

The compensation balance, keyless, air-tight, seven-guinea grandee wasthe next to be put up, and the first bid for him was £1 10s. 

"That I should have lived to hear that!" I heard the poor creaturegasp. 

"And if he's a teetotaler, " I murmured, by way of encouragement, "thatonly means £1 8 shillings 6 pence!"

"Scoffer! be silent and leave me to my misery, " said the keyless one, ina solemn tone. 

The bidding improved considerably. He was run up to £2, £2 10shillings, £3, £3 10 shillings, and finally to £4. 

"Nothing more for this very magnificent watch?" said the auctioneer; "Ipositively cannot let him go for a song. "

No answer. 

"I wish gentlemen would take the trouble to look at it, " continued thepersevering official; "they could not fail to see it was worth twice themoney bid. "

Still no answer. 

"Did I understand you to bid four five, sir?" said the auctioneer to aninnocent-looking stripling near the door. "Thank you. "

The stripling, however, disclaimed the soft impeachment, and looked veryguilty as he did so. 

"Well, there seems no help for it. I wish I were down among yougentlemen. I'd take good care not to lose this chance. "

No answer. 

"Then I must knock it down. Going, going, gone, sir; it's yours, anddirt cheap, too. "

All this was encouraging for me. If a seven-guinea watch goes for fourpounds, for how much will a three-guinea one go?

This was a problem which I feebly endeavoured to solve as I lay waitingmy turn. 

It came at last. I felt myself lifted on high, and heard my meritspronounced in the words of the catalogue. 

"Lot 68. London made, lever, open-face watch, capped and jewelled, invery fine order. "

"Look for yourselves, gentlemen. "

The gentlemen did look for themselves, and complimented me by apreliminary bid of 15 shillings. 

The auctioneer laughed a pleasant laugh, as much as to say, "That is acapital joke, " and waited for the next bid. 

It was not long in coming, and I advanced rapidly by half-crowns tothirty shillings. Here I made sure I should stop, for this was thefigure at which the pawnbroker himself had valued me. But no; such arethe vagaries of an auction, I went on still, up to £2, and from that to£2 10 shillings. Surely there was some mistake. I looked out to seewho they were who were thus bidding for me, and fancied I detected inthat scrutiny the secret of my unexpected value. 

It was a countryman bidding--endeavouring in his downright way to becomemy possessor, and wholly unconscious of the array of Jews against him, who bid him up from half-crown to half-crown until I had nearly reachedmy original value. 

"Three pounds, " at last said one of the Jews. 

The countryman had evidently come to the end of his tether, and did notanswer the challenge. 

"Three pounds, " said the auctioneer; "you're not going to stop, sir?"

The countryman said nothing. 

"Try once more, " said the auctioneer; but the rustic was silent. 

"Three pounds; no more? Going, going--"

"Guineas!" roared the countryman, at the last moment. 

"Thank you, sir; I thought you were not going to be beaten. Threeguineas, gentlemen; who says more? Nobody? Going, then, to you, sir;going, going, gone!"

And so, once more, I changed masters. 

CHAPTER NINETEEN. 

HOW, AFTER MUCH CEREMONY, I FOUND MYSELF IN THE POCKET OF A GENIUS. 

Muggerbridge is a straggling, picturesque little midland village, withone principal street, an old church, a market-place, and a pound. Itspopulation, all told, does not number a thousand, the majority of whomare engaged in agriculture; its houses are for the most part old-fashioned and poor, though clean; and altogether its general characterand appearance combine to proclaim the village an unpretending Englishhamlet, with nothing whatever but its name to distinguish it from ahundred others like it. 

It was here I found myself duly installed in the window of the villagejeweller's--held out as a bait to the purses of Muggerbridge. Thecountryman who had purchased me was a big enough man in his own place, though very little had been made of him in the "Central Mart. " He wasjeweller, silversmith, church warden, postmaster, and specialMuggerbridge correspondent to the London _Thunderbolt_ all in one here, and appeared to be aware of his accumulated dignities!

It was his custom twice a year to visit London for the purpose ofreplenishing his stock. It was the common talk of the place that healways returned from such expeditions with prodigies of bargains, whichwent far to encourage the popular tradition as to the prodigal wealth ofthe metropolis. People who knew him in town, on the other hand, alwayslaughed at him, and were unkind enough to hint that he never by anychance bought an article at less than its full price, and often paid anextremely fanciful ransom for his purchases. 

The churchwarden and postmaster of Muggerbridge would have been veryindignant had such an insinuation ever reached his ears. It never did, happily, and the worthy man was consequently always well satisfied withhis purchases; which--whatever he gave for them--he always contrived tosell at a very respectable profit. 

It was with a view to this profit that I found myself looking out of MrArgent's window, in the High Street of Muggerbridge, with a ticket roundmy neck, conveying the (to me) very gratifying information that "thissuperb watch was to be disposed of for the moderate amount of £4 10shillings only, " and a parenthesis below further indulged my vanity byvolunteering the information that I was worth £6. It _did_ occur to meto wonder why, if I was worth £6, Mr Argent should be such a donkey asto sell me for only three-quarters of that sum. Either he was a verybenevolent man, or he was in immediate want of £4 10 shillings, or hehad his doubts as to my alleged value. I somehow fancied the last wasthe true reason, and was half afraid he was right too. 

Well, I looked out of Mr Argent's windows for two months, and by thattime became acquainted with nearly all the inhabitants of Muggerbridge. 

On my first arrival I was an object of a good deal of curiosity andadmiration, for any change in a country shop window is an excitement, and when that change takes the form of a £6 "superb" watch offered for£4 10 shillings, it was no wonder the honest Muggerbridgians gaped in atme and read my label. 

But in a very little time familiarity had bred contempt, and I layalmost unheeded by the outside world. The grocer opposite, with histriumphal arch of jam-pots monopolised all the wonder, and most of theadmiration, and I had the mortification of seeing passers turn theirbacks on me, and step over the way to contemplate that vulgar structure. 

I had, however, one or two constant admirers. One of these was a youth, scarcely more than a boy, with a very pale, thoughtful face. He waspoorly dressed, but respectable. A book was generally tucked under hisarm, and very often I could see his lips moving, as if repeatingsomething to himself. 

He paid me more attention than anybody. Every time he passed the shophe halted and looked at me, as I thought, wistfully, and usuallyappeared relieved to find me still in my place. 

"George Reader's took a fancy to the new watch, I can see, " I heard MrArgent say one day to his wife. 

He spoke, let me observe, in a very broad country dialect, which I donot feel equal to reproducing here. 

"Poor lad!" said Mrs Argent; "I dare say he'd like to have it in hispocket when he goes to college. "

"He is going, then?"

"Yes, for certain; the clergyman says it would be a sin for a boy of hiscleverness not to go, and so I think. "

"Well, learning's a great thing; and when a gamekeeper's son does take afit of it, I suppose it's all right to humour it. But you and I, wife, can get on very well without it. "

"Speak for yourself, " retorted Mrs Argent; "I wish you had half as muchin your head as that boy has got, that's all!"

"And I suppose you wish you'd got the other half, eh? Stuff!"

And after this little tiff the worthy couple were silent for a while. Presently Mrs Argent again spoke. "I wonder what they'll do about thechurch organ when George's gone?"

"Ah! you may say so, " said the husband, with a touch of importance inhis voice which became a churchwarden when speaking of church matters;"it'll be hard to fill his place there. "

"So it will. Did you stay after the service on Sunday?"

"No; you know I had to go round to the curate's. Why?"

"Just because if you'd heard him play you'd have been glued to yourchair, as I was. It was beautiful. I couldn't have got up from thatchair if I'd tried. "

"Good job you didn't try, if you were glued down, especially in yourSunday gown. I shouldn't care to have to buy many of them a month. "

"Now, John, you know I've not had a new gown for nearly a year. "

And then the talk took a departure over a range of topics to which Ineed not drag my unoffending reader. This short conversation sufficedto satisfy my curiosity in part as to the boy who was paying me suchconstant attention; and another event which shortly happened served tobring me into still closer acquaintance with George Reader. One daythere entered the shop a party consisting of half a dozen persons. Oneof them was a young man in the dress of a clergyman, and the others Iknew well by sight as respectable and respected villagers. 

"Good-morning, Mr Argent, " said the curate, for the clerical gentlemanwas none other; "we've come to see you on a little matter of business. "

"Hope there's nothing wrong with the heating stoves in the church, sir, "said Mr Argent, with an anxious face, "I was always against them beingused at all. "

"The stoves are quite well, I believe, " said the curate, smiling; "ourbusiness is of quite a different kind. We've come to make a purchase, in fact. "

Mr Argent's face brightened considerably, partly at the assurance as tothe salubrity of the gas-stoves and partly at the prospect of business. 

"What can I do for you, sir?" he said, no longer with his churchwarden'svoice, but as the Muggerbridge silversmith. 

"Well, we have been asked to select a small present to be given by thechoir and congregation of our church to George Reader, who, I supposeyou know, is going next week to college. "

"I have heard tell of it, sir, " said Mr Argent, "and my wife and I wereonly wondering the other day what was to become of the music at thechurch when he's gone. "

"We don't like to think of it, " said one of the party. "It would want agood one to take his place, " said another. 

"We shall all miss him, " said the curate; "and we are anxious before heleaves us to present him with some little token of our regard. We havekept the thing from you, Mr Argent, as of course we should have to cometo you to procure whatever we decided on getting, so your contributionto the gift will have to be some good advice on the matter we are stillundecided about--what to get. "

"I shall be very glad to help--have you decided--er--I mean--hasanything been said--that is--about what--"

"About how much? Well, we have nearly four pounds--in fact, we mightcall it four. What have you about that price that would be suitable?"

Oh! how my heart fluttered, for I could guess by this time what wascoming. 

Mr Argent looked profound for a minute, and then said, "There's onething, I think, would do. "

"What?" asked the deputation. 

He pulled me out of the window and laid me on the counter. 

"A watch! Dear me! we thought of all sorts of things, but not once ofthat!"

"It would be a suitable present, " said one of the party; "but this oneis £4 10. "

"That needn't matter, " said Mr Argent; "if you like it my wife and Iwill settle about the difference. "

"That's very kind of you, Mr Argent. Does any one know if George has awatch?"

"I know he hasn't, " said one of the party. "And what's more, I've heardhim say he wishes he had one. "

"And I can answer for it he's been looking in at my window at this veryone every day for the last month, " said the silversmith. 

"Well, what do you say to getting this, then? We needn't ask you ifit's a good one, Mr Argent. "

"No, you needn't, sir, " replied the smiling Mr Argent, who, as I hadremained run down since the day he bought me, could not well haveanswered the question more definitely. 

"You'll clean it up, will you, and set it going, and send it to me thisafternoon?" said the curate;--"and perhaps you would like to come withus to Reader's cottage this evening, when we are going to present it?"

Mr Argent promised to form one of the party, and the deputation thenleft. 

I was swiftly subjected to all the cleaning and polishing which brushes, wash-leather, and whiting could give me. I was wound up and set to theright time, and a neat piece of black watered ribbon was attached to myneck, and then I waited patiently till the time came for my presentationto my new master. 

The gamekeeper's cottage to which I was conducted in state that eveningwas not an imposing habitation. It boasted of only three rooms, andjust as many occupants. George, the hero of the occasion, was the sonof its humble owner and his wife, and, as will have been gathered, hadturned out a prodigy. From his earliest days he had displayed aremarkable aptitude for study. Having once learned to read at thevillage school, he became insatiable after books, and devoured all thatcame within his reach. 

Happily he fell into the hands of a wise and able guide, the clergymanof the parish, who, early recognising the cleverness of the boy, stroveto turn his thirst for learning into profitable channels, lent himbooks, explained to him what he failed to understand, incited him tothoroughness, and generally constituted himself his kind and helpfuladviser. 

The consequence of this timely tuition had been that George had grownup, not a boisterous, over bearing prig, showing off his learning atevery available chance, and making himself detestable, and everybodyelse miserable, by his conceited air, but a modest, quiet scholar, withplenty of hidden fire and ambition, and not presuming on his talents toscorn his humble origin, or be ashamed of his home and parents--on thecontrary, connecting them with all his dearest hopes of success andadvancement in the world. 

They, good souls, were quite bewildered by the sudden blaze of theirson's celebrity. They hardly seemed to understand what it all meant, but had a vague sort of idea that they were implicated in "Garge's"achievements. They would sit and listen to him as he read to them, asif they were at an exhibition at which they had paid for admission, andit is not too much to say "Garge" was, in their eyes, almost as dreadfula personage as the lord of the manor himself. 

Among his fellow-villagers George was, as the reader will have gathered, somewhat of a hero, and not a little of a favourite. This distinctionhe owed to a talent for music, which had at a very early age displayeditself, and had been heartily encouraged by the rector. In thispursuit, which he followed as his only recreation, he had made suchprogress that, while yet a boy, he became voluntary organist at thechurch, and as such had won the hearts of the neighbours. 

They didn't know much about music, but they knew the organ soundedbeautiful on Sundays, and that "Garge" played it. And so it was a realtrouble to them now that he was about to leave Muggerbridge. 

You may imagine the state of excitement into which this unexpected visitthrew simple Mr and Mrs Reader. The good lady was too much takenaback even to offer her customary welcome, and as for the gamekeeper, hesat stock still in his chair, with his eyes on his son, like a houndthat waits the signal for action. 

"We are rather an invasion, I'm afraid, " said the curate, squeezinghimself into the little kitchen between a clothes-horse and a dresser. 

"Not at all, " said George, looking very bewildered. 

"Perhaps you'll wonder why we've come?" added the curate, turning to thegamekeeper. 

"Maybe you've missed something, and thinks one of us has got it, " wasthe cheerful suggestion. 

The curate laughed, and the deputation laughed, and George laughed, andGeorge's mother laughed, which made things much easier for all parties. 

"No, we haven't missed anything, Mr Reader, " replied the curate, "butwe expect to miss _somebody_--George, and that is the reason of ourvisit. "

And then the curate explained what the business was, and one of thechurchwardens made a speech (the composition of which had kept him awakeall the previous night), and then I was produced and handed over. AndGeorge blushed and stammered out something which nobody couldunderstand, and George's mother began to cry, and George's father, unable otherwise to express his sense of the occasion, began to whistle. And so the little business was satisfactorily concluded, and thedeputation withdrew, leaving me in the pocket of a new master. Threedays afterwards both of us took our departure for Cambridge. 

CHAPTER TWENTY. 

HOW MY NEW MASTER MADE TRIAL OF A PURSUIT OF KNOWLEDGE UNDERDIFFICULTIES. 

But now let us follow Reader. My master's rooms at Saint George'sCollege were of the poorest and meanest description; in fact it wouldnot be too much to describe them--the bedroom and study--as being like apair of big cupboards under a great staircase. They looked out onnothing more picturesque than a blank wall. They were carpeted withnothing better than an old drugget; and as for paper, the place wouldhave looked better simply whitewashed. They were suffocating in summerand draughty in winter, and at nights afforded rendezvous to a wholecolony of rats. Every step on the staircase above thundered down intothe study; the loosely-hung windows rattled even in a light breeze, andthe flavours of the college dustbins, hard by, appeared to have selectedthese chambers, above all others, for their favourite haunt. I am toldSaint George's College has recently undergone renovation. It so, it isprobable "the Mouse-trap"--for this was the designation by which GeorgeReader's classical domain was familiarly styled--has disappeared. Letus hope so, for a more miserable, uncomfortable, and uninviting coupleof rooms I never saw. 

But they had one merit, and that a great one: they were cheap, which toGeorge Reader meant everything. He had gained a small entrancescholarship, by the help of which he hoped, with the most rigid economy, to support himself during his college career. Most other young fellowswould have shrunk from the prospect, but such was my master's ambitionthat I believe he would have endured life in a stable if only he couldhave there enjoyed the advantages and encouragements of a collegecourse. 

It was, at any rate, a fine sight to see him settle down in his newdispiriting quarters, determined to make the best of everything, andsuffer nothing to damp his ardour for work. He unpacked his fewprecious books and laid them on the shelf; he hung up the likenesses ofhis father and mother over the chimney-piece; he produced the cheesewhich the latter had insisted on his bringing with him, and, as acrowning-effect, set me up on the mantel-shelf with as much pride as ifI had been a marble clock. 

"That looks something like!" he said to himself. "Now for a little tea, and then--grind!"

The little tea, however, was "sooner said than done. " It involved aprolonged hunt for the "gyp, " or attendant, and a still more prolongedconference on the subject of hot water, tea, and bread. The suggestionsthrown out by the college official, too, were so very lordly andextravagant--such, for instance, as ham and eggs, chicken, marmalade, and chocolate--that poor George's heart fluttered as much as his mouthwatered while he listened. Chicken and chocolate for a poor student whohad barely enough money to afford so much as the luxury of living in the"Mouse-trap" of Saint George's! Well he might be scared at the idea!He politely declined the grand offer of his scout, and asking him tolight a small fire and procure him a loaf, sallied out himself into thetown and purchased a small and very cheap quantity of groceries. Withthese he returned in triumph to his rooms, and, with the utmostsatisfaction, partook of his first college meal, with a Euclid open onthe table beside him. 

Then pouring out a final cup of tea to enjoy, cold, later on, he"cleared the decks for action, " as he called it, which meant puttingaway the tea, butter, sugar, and bread in a cupboard, and folding up thetable cloth. Poor George! he had no false pride to forbid such menialoffices; he had not the brag about him which would have led another tostand on the staircase and howl "Gyp" till every one far and near shouldbe made aware that he had had a meal which required clearing away. No;he was only a gamekeeper's son, in a hurry to get at his books; and tohim it was far more natural to wait on his own frugal table than sit instate till a servant should come and clear it. 

"Now, " said he to himself, "I shall get a good quiet time for work. After all it's not bad to be one's own master where reading isconcerned. "

And without more ado he set himself down to his books, with me on thetable at his elbow, and his cup of tea within reach, when suchrefreshment should be desirable. It was a fine thing to see this youngfellow plunging straight into his work. 

Assuredly he had not come to college to fritter away his time--to row, play cricket, give wine-parties, or drive dog-carts; he had not evencome because it was "the thing, " or afforded a "good introduction intothe world. " No, he was here for one purpose, and one alone. That waswork. To him the days were as precious mines, and every minute anugget. It mattered nothing to him who won the cricket-match this year, who occupied the rooms next his, how many bumps the Saint George's boatmade on the river; far more important was the thought that perhaps theoil in his lamp would run short before the night was out, or whether theedition of Plato his friend the Muggerbridge clergyman had given him wasthe best, and contained the fullest notes. In short, George Reader wasin earnest. 

But, like the tea, the "good quiet time" he hoped for was not so easy tosecure. Scarcely had he settled down when the voices of two men in loudconversation rose, immediately under his window. Now, when one is inthe agony of trying to understand how it comes that a certain number ofangles in one figure are equal to a certain number of angles in another, it is, to say the least of it, confusing to have to listen to a spiritedaccount of a boxing-match between Jack Straight and the Hon. WilfredDodge; and when that account manages to get interwoven inextricably withthe problem in hand the effect is likely to be distracting; forinstance:--

"Since the solid angle at B is contained by three plane angles, BAF, FAC, and CAB, then--"

"Jack let out and got in sweetly under his man's guard, " and so on. 

"Therefore, " persevered George, "the angles ABC and ABF--"

"Rounded on him grandly, and--"

"The angles ABC and ABF are together greater than the angle CBF; and, similarly--"

Here the conversation was continued in language far more worthy of thedisgraceful prize-ring than a college, until George could bear it nolonger. He leapt from his seat and sprang to the window, which heopened. Leaning out, he surveyed the two disturbers of his peace withvery little affection, but controlled himself sufficiently to saypolitely, --

"Would you mind not talking just here? I'm reading. "

One of the two scowled up at him, and replied, --

"What business is it of yours where we talk?"

"Come on, Fisher, " said the other, taking his arm; "let the man read ifhe wants; I suppose that's the poor beggar who's come to the `trap. '"

"He's got a cool cheek of his own, whoever he is, " retorted theindignant Fisher. 

George was too relieved to be rid of their clatter under his window totrouble himself as to their sentiments towards himself, and he thereforeonce again settled down to work. 

But now a new interruption occurred. 

There arose a sudden rush of feet outside his door, a laughing and acheering, in the midst of which he caught the following confusedutterances:

"George's has bumped Corpus!" cried a voice. 

[See Note 1. ]

"Hurrah!" yelled half a dozen voices. 

"It was the finest bit of rowing ever you saw, " continued the firstspeaker. "Bailey put it on from the very first stroke, and was on thetop of them before the Point. "

And then the three cheers and yells rose again. 

"You can fancy how black and blue Corpus looked--it's the biggest sellthey've had for a long time. "

Once more the shouts. 

"And what do you think?" resumed the first speaker. "Old Bailey vows hewon't come to the supper to-night. Did ever you hear of such an oldbear?"

"He'll have to come, " cried the rest; "let's waylay him here and carryhim off. "

"All serene, " said the leader; "he's sure to come here--let's hang abouton the stairs. "

Oh, horrors! here were six noisy men going to establish themselves onthe stairs over poor George's head, and remain there until their victimarrived, when, unless college traditions were utterly false, there wouldcertainly be a battle royal. It was impossible, with the cheering andstamping and shouting and laughing, and scuffling overhead, to do astroke of work, and yet George did his best. He pulled his table intothe corner of the room farthest away from the noise, and, burying hishead in his hands, struggled desperately to abstract himself from thedisturbance. But as sure as he succeeded for a minute, a clamour louderthan ever would drive _every_ idea out of his head. It was vain toattempt expostulation--what would these jubilant revellers care for apoor new man like him!--and he had nowhere else to go to escape themthere was nothing for it but to be patient. In due time the victoriousand unsuspecting Bailey, accompanied by four of his friends, appeared onthe scene, and their approach was the immediate signal for action. Witha cheer and a howl the ambush sprang upon their victims; and, with equalvehemence, these, having rapidly taken in the state of affairs, preparedto defend themselves. Poor George might as well have been sitting underNiagara. Step by step, the new-comers strove to force a passage up toBailey's rooms, and step by step the opposing force strove to repulsethem. The balustrades creaked, the ceiling of George's room quaked, andthe walls thundered with the weight of conflicting bodies. Theoccupants of every room on the staircase turned out to see the fun, andon hearing of Bailey's contumacy, joined with his persecutors inrefusing him the shelter of his own sanctuary. Bailey's party, on theother hand, was joined by reinforcements from without, who stormed upthe stairs with the noise of an earthquake. The opposing forces soonbecame so great that the press of battle raged even to the door ofGeorge's study, which creaked and rattled as if every moment it wereabout to yield and admit the whole tide of conflict. 

For half an hour the tumult roared and the battle swayed, and neitherparty gained nor yielded a foot. 

Then suddenly from the confines of the battle rose and spread a cry of"Cave canem!" on which, as if by magic, the action was suspended, andretreating footsteps betokened a panic. A rally was sounded by Bailey'sfoes, but too late; the hero of the day had taken advantage of themomentary pause to dash past his persecutors and gain his study, andonce there no force could dislodge him. The vanquished ones stormed andraged outside his door for another ten minutes, threatening all sorts ofvengeance; then with three mighty cheers they struck camp and retired, leaving the staircase in peace. 

Thus ended the famous battle of Bailey's Staircase, at the end of whichGeorge, with sunken spirits but indomitable resolution, sat down againto work. 

For half an hour he made good progress, without let or hindrance, when--ah, cruel fate!--a wretch calling himself a man, in a neighbouringapartment, began to practise on the ophicleide! At the first noteGeorge bounded from his seat as if he had been shot, and literally torehis hair. This was worse than all that had gone before. To one of hismusical inspiration, the human voice divine in conversation was, endurable, and the roar of battle might even be tolerable, but to hear acreature attempt to play one of the "songs without words" on aninstrument he knew as little of as the music he was parodying, wasbeyond all bearing! Then, if ever, did my wretched master dig hisfingers into his ears, and writhe and shiver and groan at each discordproduced by that inhuman performer. He retreated into the innermostrecess of his bedroom; he even hid his unhappy head beneath the clothes, if haply he might escape the agony of this torture. But it washopeless. The shrieks and groans of that brutal ophicleide would havepenetrated the walls of the Tower of London. 

It lasted, I should not like to say how long; and when it was over, therecollection of its horrors was almost as bad as their endurance. WhenGeorge set himself again to work, it was with nerves unstrung andunutterable forebodings, yet still unconquered. 

"At any rate, " said he to himself, with a sigh, "there can't be anythingworse than that--unless, indeed, he invites a friend like himself topractise duets with him!"

Happily this climax was not reached, and for one evening the worst ofGeorge Reader's persecutions had been suffered--but not the last. 

By the time the last wail of the ophicleide had wriggled away intosilence it was getting late, and the college was meditating retirementto rest. This operation was not got through, as may be imagined, without a good deal of clamour and a good deal of scuffling on thestaircase, and a good deal of dialogue outside the window; but in duetime silence reigned, and George congratulated himself that he had aquiet time at last before him. 

Unlucky boast! Not an hour had passed, the lights in the windows roundthe courtyard had vanished, the distant shouts had ceased, and thefootsteps on the pavement without had died away, when George wasstartled by a sound that seemed like the boring of a hole under hisfireplace. The noise grew, and other similar noises rose in differentparts. What was it? Surely the gay students of Saint George's were notabout to effect an amateur burglary on the friendless owner of the"Mouse-trap?"

Nearer and nearer came the sounds, and George's heart beat loud. Heclosed his book and pushed his chair back from the table, ready todefend himself, on an emergency, to the bitter end. Then, under thehearth, there was a sound of scraping and grating, then a rushing noise, and then George saw--two enormous rats!

Loud and long laughed my master to himself at the discovery. What cared_he_ for rats? He pulled his chair back to the table, and buriedhimself in his book for the next three hours, until his lamp began toburn low, and the letters on the pages grew blurred and dim, and therats had scuffled back by the way they came, and my flagging handspointed to four o'clock. 

Then George Reader, after kneeling in silent prayer, went to bed. 

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Note 1. At the college races at Cambridge the boats start one behindthe other at fixed distances, and any boat overtaking and "bumping" theone in front of it moves up a place nearer to the "Head of the River. "

CHAPTER TWENTY ONE. 

HOW MY MASTER FARED AT SAINT GEORGE'S COLLEGE AND MET AN OLDACQUAINTANCE OF THE READER'S THERE. 

It is not my intention in these pages to give a full and particularaccount of George Reader's college life. It would neither be on thewhole interesting, nor would it be found to have much bearing on my owncareer, which is the ostensible theme of the present veracious history. 

Stories of college life have furnished amusing material for many a bookbefore now, to which the reader must turn, should his curiosity in thatdirection require to be satisfied. The life of a hard--a too hard-working student in his cell under the college staircase is neitheramusing nor sensational, and it is quite enough to say that, after hisfirst eventful evening, George Reader pursued his studies withunflagging ardour, though with greater precaution than ever. 

He soon discovered which hours of the day and night were most favourablefor uninterrupted work. 

He made a point of taking his constitutional during the hour madehideous by the ill-starred aspirant on the ophicleide. He invested in atrap for the rats, which, with the aid of his mother's cheese, yieldedhim a nightly harvest of victims, and he arranged with Benson, the"gyp, " not to interrupt him, preferring rather to wait on himself--nay, even to dust out his own room--than have to sacrifice precious timewhile the same offices were being performed by another, especially bysuch an overpowering and awe-inspiring person as Benson. 

So he set himself to work, attending lectures by day, reading everynight into the small hours, spending scarcely anything, shrinking fromall acquaintanceships, taking only a minimum of recreation, and livingalmost the life of a hermit, until I could see his cheeks grow pale, andhis eyes dark round the rims, and feared for his health. 

He treated me uniformly well. Of course, as the gift of his fellow-villagers, he prized me highly, but by no means consigned me to thestately repose of a purely ornamental treasure. I lay nightly besidehis elbow on the table, and counted for him the hours as they sped fromnight to morning. I lay beneath his pillow at night, and helped him torise betimes. I insured his punctual attendance at lectures, and drovehim home from his scanty walks in the fresh air more quickly than Imyself would have cared to do if I could have helped it. In short, Ifound myself in the satisfactory position of one thoroughly useful inhis sphere of life, and on the whole, though my first young masterreturned constantly to my thoughts, I contrived to be very happy in mynew capacity. 

Two events, however, both of a pleasant nature, served to vary themonotony of George's second term at college. The first of these was avisit from his friend and patron, Dr Wilkins, the rector ofMuggerbridge. 

George was sitting at his modest breakfast one morning, when his doorsuddenly opened, and the well-known and beloved face of his old tutorlit up the apartment. 

My master sprang to his feet, and with unaffected joy rushed forward towelcome his guest, before it had do much as occurred to him into whatuninviting quarters he was receiving him. 

"How good of you to come, sir!" he cried. "I never expected suchhappiness. "

"You don't suppose I should go through Cambridge and never beat up yourquarters, my boy! But, dear me, how ill you are looking!"

"Am I? I don't feel ill. "

"Humph! you're overdoing it. But aren't you going to offer me somebreakfast?"

George coloured, and his spirits sank as his eyes fell on the scantyfare of which he himself had been partaking. 

"It's only bread-and-butter, " he said. 

"And what better?" said Dr Wilkins, sitting down; "and I warrant thebutter's good if it's your mother's making. "

"So it is, " said George, beginning to recover his spirits. "And how didyou leave them at home, sir?"

"First-rate, my boy;--looking much better than you are. And so this isyour den? Well, it's--"

"Nothing very grand, " put in George. 

"Exactly, nothing very grand; but I dare say you find it as good a placeto read in as a drawing-room, eh? Now tell me all about yourself, myboy, while I drink this good tea of yours. "

And George, with light heart and beaming face, told his good friend ofall his doings, his hardships, his difficulties, his triumphs, and hisambitions. 

And Dr Wilkins sat and listened with pride and thankfulness at heart, to find his young _protege_ the same earnest, unaffected boy he hadparted with from Muggerbridge six months before. They talked for a longtime that morning. The tutor and boy passed in review all the workhitherto accomplished and discussed the programme of future study. Manywere the wholesome counsels the elder gave to the younger, and many werethe new hopes and resolutions which filled the lad's heart as he openedall his soul to his good friend. 

"And now, " said Dr Wilkins, "I want you to take me to see your collegeand chapel. "

George looked perplexed. Who was _he_ to conduct a Doctor of Divinityover his college. Such a hermit's life had he led that he hardly knewthe ins and outs of the place himself, and there was not a single man inthe college to whom he was not a stranger. 

"I'm afraid you've chosen a bad guide, " faltered he. "I don't know anyof the men, and very little of the place. "

"Oh, never mind that, " said the doctor; "it will be all the moreinteresting to make a tour of discovery, so come along!"

George put on his cap and gown and obeyed. For a moment he wished thegown had been long enough to conceal the patch on the knee of histrousers, but the next he laughed at himself for his vanity. 

"There's nothing to be ashamed of, " thought he, "and if it _is_patched--well, it is. "

And thus consoling himself, he accompanied the doctor across thequadrangle. 

Men certainly did stare at him as he passed, and some of them deemed hima queer "specimen, " and others wondered what Saint George's was comingto. But my master, if he noticed their looks, disregarded them, and asfor Dr Wilkins, he smiled to himself to think how prone mankind is tojudge by appearances. 

"Unless I mistake, " mused he to himself, "these young sparks of SaintGeorge's will some day think fit to be proud of their poor fellow-collegian. "

The two made the tour of the college, and finished up with the grand oldGothic chapel. It was easy to guess why George's face lit up as heapproached the place. The deep notes of an organ were sounding acrossthe quadrangle, and as they entered the door a flood of harmony swepttowards them down the long aisles. Dr Wilkins could feel the boy's armtremble, and heard the sigh of delight which escaped his lips. Withouta word they sat in the nearest stalls, and listened while the music wenton. How it rose and fell, how it trembled in the oak arches of theroof, and swept through the choir down to where they sat! It was onlyan ordinary organist's practice; but to George, after his hard work, andwith the memories of home revived by the presence of his dear tutor, itcame as a breath from heaven. Daily, nearly, had he heard that organsince his coming to Cambridge, but never had it delighted him as it didnow. 

"Can we see the organ?" he said, when the last chord had died away. 

"Let us try, " said the doctor. 

The gallery door was open, and ascending the stairs to the organ loft, they found the organist preparing to depart. 

"We have been a clandestine audience, " said the doctor, "and couldn'thelp coming to thank you for the treat you have given us. My youngfriend here is music mad. "

The organist smiled. 

"You took me at a disadvantage, " he said, "I was only amusing myself. "

"Whatever you were doing for yourself, you delighted us, " said thedoctor. 

"Would you like to try the organ?" presently said the organist toGeorge. 

Oh, what a bound of delight I could feel in my master's breast at theinvitation. 

"May I?" he exclaimed. 

"Certainly, if you like--and if you can, " added the other, hesitatingly, as if not sure whether the lad's skill would be equal to his enthusiasm. 

George sat down on the bench, and laid his fingers lovingly on the keys. But he withdrew them before he had sounded a note. "I would rather youdid not watch me too closely, " he said, nervously, "for I am only abeginner. "

"Let us go and sit down stairs, " suggested the doctor. 

The organist looked still more doubtful than before, and began to repenthis offer. However, he retired with the doctor, and made up his mind tobe excruciated. They sat down in two of the stalls and waited. 

And then George began to play. What he played I cannot tell. It beganfirst in a faint whisper of music which swelled onward into a purechoral melody. Then suddenly the grand old roof trembled with the clashof a martial movement, strong and steady, which carried the listeneronward till he was, with the sound, lost in the far distance. Then, inwailing minor numbers the music returned, slowly working itself up intothe tumult and fury of a pent-up agony, and finally sweeping all beforeit in a wild hurricane of bitterness. Then a pause, and then sweetlyand in the far distance once more rose the quiet hymn, and after thatall was silence. 

After the first few notes the organist had uttered a startledejaculation, and drawn the doctor to another seat farther down the nave, where, till all was over, he sat motionless as a statue. But the momentthe music had ceased he ran up the stairs with a face full of pleasureand admiration, and actually seized George by the hand. 

"You're a genius, sir. That was not at all bad, I can tell you. "

A happy smile was all the answer George could give. 

"Not at all bad, " repeated the organist. "I was telling your friend, "added he to Dr Wilkins, who had returned more slowly to the organ, "that was not at all bad. He must come here often. "

"Nothing, I am sure, would delight him more, " said the doctor. "Eh, myboy?"

"Nothing, indeed, " said George, "but--"

"But your reading, I suppose. "

"Never mind your reading, sir!" exclaimed the organist. "What's that tomusic? Take my advice, and go in for music. "

Poor George! for a moment he felt tempted to abandon all his ambitionsand resolutions at the prospect of a career so delightful and congenial. 

But he was made of firmer stuff than Tom Drift, and replied, --

"I cannot do that, sir; but if I may come now and then--"

"Come whenever you like, " said the organist; and so saying he shookGeorge and his friend by the hand, and hurried from the chapel. 

This was the event which of all others brightened George Reader's firstyear at college. 

Instead of aimless walks, he now stole at every spare moment (withoutcutting into his ordinary work) to the organ, and there revelled inmusic. 

His acquaintance with the college organist increased and developed intoa friendship, of which mutual admiration formed a large element, and onehappy Sunday, a year after his arrival at Cambridge, he received, forthe first time, the much coveted permission to preside at the organduring a college service, a task of which he acquitted himself so well--nay, so remarkably well--that not only did he frequently find himselfagain in the same position, but his playing came to be a matter ofremark among the musical set of Saint George's. 

"Who is the fellow who played to-day?" a man inquired one day of theorganist; "is he a pupil of yours?"

"No. I might be a pupil of his in some things. He's a boy, and, markmy words, if he goes on as he's begun he'll be heard of some day. "

"What's his name, do you know?" inquired the youth. 

"I don't even know that, I never-- Here he comes!"

"Introduce me, will you?"

"With pleasure. Allow me to introduce Mr Halliday, " said the organistto George. 

Halliday! Wasn't that a familiar name to me? Was it possible? Thisfine fellow, then, was no other than Jim Halliday, whom I had last seenas a boy on the steps of Randlebury, with his chum Charlie Newcome, waving farewell to Tom Drift. 

Ah, how my heart beat at being thus once more brought back into thelight of those happy days by this unexpected meeting!

My master by no means shared my delight at the incident. He had alwaysshrunk from acquaintanceships among his fellow-collegians. With none, hitherto, but the organist had he become familiar, and that only byvirtue of an irresistible common interest. His poverty and humblestation forbade him to intrude his fellowship on the clannish gentry ofSaint George's, and certainly his cravings for hard study led him, sofar from considering the exclusion as a hardship, to look upon it as amercy, and few things he desired more devoutly than that thissatisfactory state of affairs might continue. 

I do not say George was right in this. Sociability is, to a certainextent, a duty, and one that ought not without the soundest reason to beshirked. George may have carried his reserve rather too far, but at anyrate you will allow he erred on the right side, if he erred at all, andcarried his purpose through with more honesty and success than poor TomDrift had displayed in a very similar situation. 

Now, however, his hermitage was in peril of a siege, and he quailed ashe acknowledged the introduction offered him. 

"How are you?" said Halliday, with all his own downrightness. "I and alot of fellows have liked your playing, and I don't see why I shouldn'ttell you so. How are you?"

"I'm quite well, thank you, " faltered George. 

"You're a freshman, I suppose?" asked Jim. 

"No, I'm in my second year. "

"Are you? I thought I knew all the men in the college; but perhaps youlive in the town?"

"No, I live in college. "

"Where are your rooms?" asked the astonished Jim. 

"In, or rather under, H staircase, " replied George. "Perhaps you wouldknow the place best as the `Mouse-trap. '"

Jim could not resist a whistle of surprise and a rapid scrutiny of hisnew acquaintance. 

"The `Mouse-trap'! That's an awful hole, isn't it?"

"Yes, " said George, his candour coming to his rescue to deliver him fromthis cross-examination, "but it's cheap--"

Jim looked as afflicted as if he had been seized with a suddentoothache. 

"What a blundering jackass I am! Please excuse my rudeness; I nevermeant to annoy you. "

"You have not done so. You are not the sort of man I should mindknowing I was poor--"

"Of course not; so am I poor; but don't let's talk of that. Will youcome to my rooms?"

George hesitated, and then answered, --

"I'd rather not, please. I'm reading hard, and, besides--"

"Besides what?"

"I've no right to expect you to associate with me. "

"Why _ever_ not?"

"I may as well tell you straight out. My father is a gamekeeper, and Iam a gamekeeper's son. "

Jim laughed pleasantly. 

"Well, really your logic is perfect, but I can't say as much for yoursense. Bless you, man, aren't we all of us lineal descendants of agardener? Come along!"

"Please excuse me, " again faltered George; "you are very kind, but yourfriends may not thank you for--"

"My friends!--oh, yes!" blurted out Jim. "What on earth business havethey to put their noses into my affairs. Like their impudence, all ofthem!"

Jim, you will see, was still a boy, though he had whiskers. 

"Don't blame them till they have offended. Anyhow, Mr Halliday, pleaseexcuse me. I want to read, and have made a rule never to go out. "

"Look here--what's your name?" began Jim. 

"Reader, " replied my master. 

"Reader! Are you the fellow who's in for the Wigram Scholarship?" criedJim, in astonishment. 

"Yes, " replied George; "how did you know?"

"Only that some of the fellows are backing you for winner. "

George laughed. "They'll be disappointed, " he said. 

"I hope not, " said Jim, "for if you get it you'll be free of thecollege, and get into rather better quarters than the `Mouse-trap. ' Butlook here, Reader, do come to my rooms, there's a good fellow; if _you_don't want any friends, don't prevent my having one. "

This was irresistible, and George had nothing for it but to yield, andwith many misgivings to accompany his new friend. 

CHAPTER TWENTY TWO. 

HOW MY MASTER AND I WENT OUT TO BREAKFAST, AND WHOM WE MET. 

Jim Halliday--now a strapping youth of nineteen--was a goodrepresentative of the "steady set" at Saint George's College. Indeed, as he was intending to become a clergyman in due time, it would havebeen a deplorable thing if this had not been the case. He worked hard, and though not a clever fellow, had already taken a good position in theexamination lists of his college. He was also an ardent superintendentat a certain ragged-school in the town conducted by University men; andwas further becoming a well-known figure in the debates at the Union--onall which accounts his friends were not a little satisfied. But on onepoint Jim and his friends did not hit it. Ever since his Randleburydays he had kept up his passion for athletic sports, and if he had nowbeen famous for nothing else at his college, he would at least have beennoted as a good bat, a famous boxer, a desperate man in a footballscrimmage, and a splendid oar. It was on this subject that Jim and hisrelations were at variance. When I speak of "relations" I refer, by theway, to a certain old-fashioned uncle and aunt in Cornwall, who sinceJim's father's death had assumed the guardianship of that youth and hisbrothers and sisters. This good uncle and aunt were horribly shockedthat one destined for so solemn a sphere in life as the ministry shouldprofane himself with athletic sports. The matter formed the theme formany serious remonstrances, and long letters addressed to the depravedJim, who, on his part, maintained his side of the argument withcharacteristic vehemence. He actually spent a whole day in the collegelibrary, making out a list of all the athletic divines in history sincethe creation of the world, the which he hurled triumphantly at his goodrelations' heads as an unanswerable challenge. But, howeversatisfactory it may have been to Jim, it failed to convince them, andneither party being disposed to give in, the feud in this particular hadbecome chronic. 

All this Jim contrived to impart to George (for lack of betterconversation) in the course of a short walk previous to the breakfast inhis rooms, to which he was leading his new acquaintance a captive. 

"I suppose we shall have it all opened again now, " he remarked, "for youmay have seen that my name is down to play in the football-match againstSandhurst. "

"I never read the athletic intelligence in the papers, " said George. 

"Well, my uncle and aunt do. The names were actually printed in the_Times_, and I shall be greatly surprised if I don't find a letter ortelegram when I get back to my rooms. We may as well beat to quarters, though, or the fellows will be waiting. "

"You didn't tell me anyone else was to be there, " said Georgereproachfully, suddenly stopping short, "I can't come!"

"Stuff and nonsense, " said Jim; "they won't eat you!"

"Halliday, " said George, hurriedly, "I'm much obliged to you for askingme, but I have made a rule, as I tell you, never to go out, and I'vetold you the reason. "

"An utterly rubbishing reason!" put in Jim. 

"I promised to come with you because I thought there would be only ustwo; but I really can't come if there are more. "

"My dear fellow, " said Jim good-humouredly, "anyone else would beoffended with you. Why, you're a regular bear. "

"I know it's very rude of me, " said George, feeling and looking veryuncomfortable, "and I don't want to be that. "

"Of course you don't; so come along. Why, my dear fellow, one wouldthink my friends were all as abandoned wretches as I am, by the mannerin which you shrink from the notion of meeting them, but they aren't. "

"Do let me off, " put in George, in despair. 

"Not a bit of it. But I tell you what, if you don't like them or me--"

"It's not that, you know, but I've no right to associ--"

"Associate with your grandmother! Come this once, and I'll never askyou again unless you like, there!"

"Who are the fellows?" asked George. 

"Two of them are College men--very nice men, in my humble opinion; and, now I come to think of it, one of them, Clarke, is in against you forthe `Wigram, ' but everyone says you're safe; and the third is an oldparticular school chum, who is playing in Sandhurst team against us, andwhom it is therefore my interest to incapacitate by a howlingbreakfast. "

George laughed. 

"I wish you'd let him eat my share as well. "

"I dare say he would be equal to the occasion. Newcome was always agood trencherman. "

At the name I bounded nearly out of my master's pocket. Newcome! an oldschool chum of Jim Halliday's. It must be my old master! And--yes--nowI remembered, he had spoken in one of his letters to Tom Drift of goingto Sandhurst Military College. It must be he. How I longed for mymaster to make up his mind and go to the breakfast!

"But I wouldn't have you miss seeing him, " said Jim, "for I'm no endproud of him; and when you've once seen him, you'll have seen the bestfellow going. That is, " added he, "present company of course excepted. "

"I'm sure he's a nice man. "

"Nice! Of course, and therefore fit company for you and me; so comealong, old man. I never had such hard work inviting a man to breakfastin all my life. "

"I'm certain I'm ill-mannered, " said George, "but I won't hold out anymore. You will--"

"Hurrah, that's settled, and here we are, too!"

With that he led the way up a staircase, on the second floor of which heopened a door, and ushered George into his rooms. No one was there yet, and there was consequently time to look about. Jim's rooms were nothingvery grand, but they were palatial compared with the "Mouse-trap. "Cheerful and well-lighted, with a pleasant look-out into the oldquadrangle, comfortably furnished, further enlivened with all thoseadornments in the shape of swords, fencing-sticks, dumb-bells, etcetera, without which no model undergraduate's rooms would be complete. 

George could hardly help sighing as his thoughts flew back to his owndingy cell under "H" staircase. 

"Lay another plate, Smith, " said Jim, addressing his "gyp"; "and now, old man, make yourself comfortable. "

And then the host, in a business-like way, devoted himself to themysteries of coffee-making and egg-boiling, in the midst of whichoccupation Clarke and the other Saint George's man arrived. 

George felt very miserable on being introduced and devoutly hoped thefellows would have sufficient to converse about among themselves, without it being needful for him to come under observation. Thisreserve, however, he was not destined to maintain for very long. 

"Halliday, " said Clarke, "were you in chapel this morning?"

"Yes. "

"Well, did you ever hear the organ so grandly played?"

George blushed deeply, half with pleasure at this genuine compliment, and half with nervousness at the turn the talk was taking. 

"And it wasn't the regular organist, " said Clarke's friend, "for I saw_him_ downstairs. "

"No, it's some fellow--plough-boy or stable-boy; or somebody he's gothold of, so I heard. Whoever he is, he knows how to play. "

At this point Jim was as red in the face as George, and equallyembarrassed. 

"Is the fellow at college, do you know?" asked Clarke's friend. 

"I believe so, in fact--"

"In fact, " broke out Jim, in fear of further awkwardness, "in fact thegentleman you are speaking of is my friend here. "

If Clarke and his friend had suddenly been confronted by a tribe of wildIndians they could not have been more taken aback than they were at thisannouncement. In fact, it was an awkward moment for everybody. Nobodyknew exactly what to say, or which way to look. But a welcomeinterruption arrived. 

My heart beat suddenly as I heard at the bottom of the stairs a sound. Some one was coming up two steps at a time. Nearer and nearer the lightfeet came, and my agitation told me whom they brought. 

There was a rap at the door, a click on the latch, and then, after allthese years, I saw once more my dear first master, Charlie Newcome. Little he guessed I was so near him!

He had spent the previous day with Jim, and was therefore no stranger inhis rooms; indeed, from the moment he entered them, he appeared as muchat home there as their own master. He greeted the visitors pleasantly, and then, in the old Randlebury style, demanded if breakfast wasanywhere near ready, as he was starving. 

He had the beginnings of a fierce moustache, he stood six feet high inhis boots, and there was a look of power about him which exceeded eventhe promise of his Randlebury days. Otherwise he was the same. He hadthe same clear, honest eyes, the same frank smile, the same merry laugh, for which everyone had loved him then; and as I looked at him andrejoiced, I felt I would give the world to be back in my old place inhis pocket. 

Jim, as he himself had said, was proud enough of his friend, and nowonder. His arrival, too, at the instant when it occurred, was mostopportune, and made him a specially welcome addition to our party, which, including my master, was very soon on the best of terms round thehospitable Jim's table. 

"It's not often, " said that worthy, "one gets two pairs of deadlyenemies eating out of the same dish. "

"What's the fellow talking about?" asked Charlie, passing up his platefor more steak. 

"Well, " said Jim, "you and I are, or shall be, deadly enemies to-day, old man. "

"Rather, " responded Charlie; "so much the worse for you. But where'sthe other pair?"

"Why, Clarke and Reader. "

"I?" exclaimed Clarke, in an alarmed tone. "I hope Mr Reader and I arenot at enmity?"

"Oh, yes, you are; don't you know Reader's the fellow in against you forthe `Wigram'?" said Jim. 

Clarke was astonished. He had been told there was another candidate forthe scholarship, who in some quarters was considered a formidableopponent, but he had never fairly realised the fact till now. 

"I'm very glad to meet you, " said he, courteously, to George, "though Ican hardly wish you as much success in your exam, as I dare say you wishyourself. "

"I hope I shall not break my heart if I lose, " replied George. "Are wethe only two in for it?"

And then they fell to talking about their approaching struggle, duringwhich I gave heed to a hurried talk between Charlie and Jim. 

"Do you remember Tom Drift?" asked Jim. 

Charlie's face at once became serious as he replied, "How could I forgethim? What about him?"

"Why, " said Jim, "I had a letter from my brother Joe the other day, andhe says Tom has altogether gone to the bad. He met him drunk coming outof some slum in Holborn, and followed him for a long time in hopes ofbeing able to speak to him, but the fellow couldn't, or wouldn'trecognise him, and only swore. He is living at some disreputablelodging-house--"

"Where?" exclaimed Charlie, excitedly. 

"I don't know. Why! what's the matter?"

"Can you find out his address?" asked Charlie. 

"I dare say. Why do you want it?"

"Because I must go and see him. Could you find out to-day by telegram?"

"I'll try. " Presently he added, "I could never make out why you stuckto the fellow as you did, old man, especially when he turned againstyou. You're a better man than ever I shall be. "

"Nonsense! I promised once to be his friend, that's all. Do send thetelegram soon. And now tell me who's the pale man talking to Clarke?"

"A fellow called Reader--one of the cleverest men we've got. "

"He looks half-starved!"

"Yes; I'm afraid he's--I mean, I don't think he takes proper care ofhimself. "

"Pity, " said Charlie. "I say, old man, this is rare steak! Give us abit more. What time does the match begin?"

"At two. You old beggar! see if I don't pay off some old scores beforethe day's over. "

"I thought you told me once your people didn't fancy your going in forathletics?"

"No more they do. I expect a stinger by this post; but I shall not openit till after the match. What matches we used to have at Randlebury!"

"Didn't we!"

"And do you remember what an ass you used to make of yourself over thatprecious silver watch of yours?"

It did one good to hear the laugh with which Charlie greeted thisreminder. 

"I'd give my repeater, and a ten-pound note besides, to get back thatold watch, " said he. (If he had but known!) "But there's no knowingwhere it is now; poor Tom Drift must have parted with it years ago. "

With such talk the meal proceeded, and presently the conversation grewmore general, and branched out on to all sorts of topics. George, having got over the first strangeness of finding himself in society, found it not so bad after all; and, indeed, he very soon amazed himselfby the amount he talked. It was a new world to him, the hermit of the"Mouse-trap, " to find himself exchanging ideas with men of his ownintellectual standing; and he certainly forgave Jim his persistency incompelling his company this morning. He forgot the patches in hisclothes among such gentlemen as Clarke and Charlie, and for the firsttime in his life felt himself superior to his natural diffidence andreserve. Who could help being at his ease where Charlie was? He keptup a running fire of chaff at his old schoolfellow, for whichoccasionally the others came in; and if it be true that laughter is agood digestive, Jim Halliday's breakfast that morning must have agreedwith the five who partook of it. 

"Who's this coming?" suddenly exclaimed the latter, as there came asound of footsteps slowly ascending the stairs. 

"Two of them!" said Charlie. "Perhaps it's your tailor and your hatterwith their little bills. "

"Whoever it is, they're blowing hard, " said Clarke. 

"They don't enjoy my `Gradus at Parnassum, '" said Jim. "Come in, all ofyou!" he shouted. 

The door opened slowly, and there appeared to the astonished eyes of Jimand his party a grave middle-aged gentleman and still more grave andmiddle-aged lady. 

"Oh, my prophetic soul! my uncle and aunt!" groaned Jim. 

CHAPTER TWENTY THREE. 

HOW JIM'S UNCLE AND AUNT SPENT A DIFFERENT SORT OF DAY FROM THAT WHICHTHEY HAD EXPECTED. 

The apparition was indeed none other than Jim Halliday's dreaded uncleand aunt, and the object of their visit was easy to guess. They had, infact, taken the long journey from Cornwall as fast as express trainscould bring them, in order to remonstrate personally with their depravednephew on the error of his ways. 

They were evidently as astonished to find Jim's room full of visitors, as Jim on his part was to see them, and they looked so taken aback anddisconcerted that the party at once rose, and offered to take theirleave. Clarke and his friend actually did depart, but Jim still hadpresence of mind enough left to groan out an entreaty to Charlie and mymaster that they would remain--an appeal so pathetic that there was noresisting it. 

Charlie politely handed the good people to chairs, while Jim, undercover of preparing a second edition of breakfast, hastily arranged hisplan of defence. 

"Reader, " he whispered to my master, "whatever you do, keep the talkgoing, old man, or it's all U P. " Then turning to his relatives, hebroke out, --

"This _is_ a surprise! How are you both? Upon my word, you're lookinggrandly. How kind to come and see me up here! Will you allow me tointroduce my two friends, Ensign Newcome and Mr Reader? My uncle andaunt, gentlemen. "

The uncle and aunt bowed gravely, and in a frightened sort of way, inacknowledgment of the courteous greeting of the two young men. It wasclear they had expected to find Jim alone, and over a quiet cup of cocoato reduce him to a sense of his wickedness. It put them out of theirreckoning, quite, to find that, if they were to open fire at once, itwould have to be in the presence of these two gentlemanly and ratherimposing strangers. However, they were too full of their mission todelay, and so the uncle began, --

"It will be as well, James, that I should state to you--"

"Not a word now, till you've had some breakfast, " interrupted the waryJim. "My poor dear aunt must be simply fagged to death. Do take yourbonnet off, and come and sit here in the easy-chair. Let me make yousome cocoa; I know the way you take it, exactly. Try those chops infront of you, sir, they are prime, as Charlie will tell you. Reader, old man, draw in and keep us company. Well, I declare, this _is_ ajolly family party! And what's the news down in your part of the world?Have you had a good harvest? My uncle comes from Cornwall, Charlie. "

And he gave his friend a lugubrious wink, as much as to say, "Keep itup. "

"Do you live near the sea?" thereupon began Charlie. 

"Pretty near, that is, about twenty miles off, " said the uncle, lookingat Charlie under his spectacles. 

"My love, the gentleman will laugh at you, " said his good lady. "I calltwenty miles a long way. "

"I perfectly agree with you, ma'am, " said Charlie, "Twenty miles is agood distance in this little island of ours. But it's curious howlittle they make of such a distance in a big country like India, forinstance, where I am going. There, I am told, it is quite a commonthing for a man to be twenty miles from his next-door neighbour, and yetbe on constant visiting terms. "

"Dear me!" said the uncle. 

"You don't know India, I suppose, sir?" inquired Charlie. 

"No; that is--"

"He's only read about it in books, " again put in the aunt; "and so, mylove, you'd better say at once you don't know anything about it. "

"Well, " said Charlie, "it depends a good deal on the books. Some booksof travel are so vivid one almost seems to be in the country theydescribe. 

"Er--what did you say, Reader?"

Reader was quick enough to take this broad hint, and keep up the talk. 

"To my mind, the most interesting books are those which describe, not somuch places, as people and their manners. There are a great many booksof this kind about India. One I lately read was specially interesting. "

And then, to Jim's unbounded delight and gratitude, George began calmlyto give a review a quarter of an hour long of the work in question forthe benefit of the two old people, who, as they listened, became moreand more impressed with the importance of their nephew's friend, and ofthe impossibility of obtruding their special grievance on the party atthe present time. Indeed, the aunt had almost forgotten the speech withwhich she had come prepared, in her pleasure at hearing the young mentalk, and she even joined in the conversation in a manner which showedhow she enjoyed it. The uncle was still gloomy, and appeared to bewaiting the first favourable opportunity for "coming to the point. "

The opportunity, however, never occurred. After a long and lively talkon all sorts of matters, Jim adroitly turned the conversation on to thesubject of athletics by appealing to his uncle to add his voice to thatof Reader's other friends in rebuking him for never taking any exercise. 

"Look at his pale face!" he exclaimed; "isn't it a disgrace?"

George bore this attack good-naturedly, and began to excuse himself; butthe uncle, who had not before noticed his looks, interrupted him bysaying, --

"Pardon me, sir, but I quite agree with James. If is very wrong tocultivate the brain at the expense of the body. "

This observation brought down Charlie's hearty approval, who forthwithlaunched into a rhapsody on athletic sports--particularly football--appealing in every sentence to the uncle, who now found himself fairlyin the toils. 

"If it were for nothing more than the moral training it gives a man, "said Charlie--"for the pluck, manliness, and endurance it puts intohim--we couldn't over-estimate the value of athletics; could we, sir?"

"No--er--that is to say--"

"Why, look at Jim, here! Upon my word, sir, if you'll excuse me sayingit, it does you the greatest credit the way he has been brought up tovalue healthy exercise. Why, there are some parents and guardians who, instead of encouraging that sort of thing, would positively so far wrongtheir sons as to forbid it. I can't make out that sort of training, canyou?"

"Eh? Well, possibly not, " faltered the uncle, turning very red. 

"Of course not, and you'll have your reward in seeing Jim turn out a farbetter clergyman than your mollycoddles, who don't know the way to looktheir fellow-men straight in the face. Jim, old man, you've had my cupup there ten minutes; hand it up. "

Jim filled it to overflowing, as a token, perhaps, of the gratitude ofhis heart towards his champion, and forthwith handed it up. 

"And _a propos_ of that, " pursued Charlie, having gulped down hiscoffee, "you are just come up here in the nick of time, for there's aglorious football-match on to-day--"

The uncle groaned and the aunt fidgeted. 

"In which Jim is playing, and no one deserves the honour better. Youmust come and see it by all means. Eh, Jim?"

"Rather, " said Jim; "it would never do to miss it, especially as Newcomeis playing against us. The worst of it is, as we are both engaged, there will be no one to pilot you about. "

"I shall be very glad, " said Reader--though, if truth must be told, hispoliteness cost him an effort--"if your uncle and aunt will let me. I'malmost as great a stranger, though, in the town as they are. "

"You are very kind, sir, " said Jim's aunt, who had been long sincegained over by the enemy. "We shall be most pleased to have yourescort. Eh, my love? Besides, we shall help to keep you out in thefresh air for once. But, James, " she said, "I can't get over you andMr Newcome being opponents in this match and yet such friends. "

Every one laughed at this, and Charlie confided to the good lady hisfixed determination of breaking her nephew's legs before the day wasout--a purpose which, from the speaker's point of view, she could nothelp admitting was a laudable one. 

Thus the breakfast ended very satisfactorily for everyone except theuncle, who had at last discovered the trap into which he had let himselffall, from which, however, he could not with grace free himself. 

Three hours later the two worthies, having seen many of the sights ofCambridge with the advantage of Reader's escort, found themselves withsome hundreds of other spectators on the field in which the notablefootball-match of Cambridge _versus_ Sandhurst was immediately about tobegin. 

Jim Halliday's uncle and aunt could hardly have denied that the thirtyyoung men, half of them in blue jerseys and half in red, who were nowstrolling out onto the ground, were as fine a body of youths as onecould easily encounter in the course of a long day's march. The pictureof health and physique, they seemed almost like some of those heroes ofold beside whom poor everyday man was wont to shrink intoinsignificance. Among the blues towered Jim, among the reds Charlie, two by no means the least noble-looking of the company. 

"How well James looks in that dress, my love!" said the aunt. 

"My love" could hardly dispute the fact, so he said nothing; but in hissecret heart he began to doubt whether he had not taken an exaggeratedview of the demoralising nature of athletic sports. 

Play was soon ordered, and then amidst breathless silence the ball shotupward, propelled by the vigorous kick of the Sandhurst captain. 

It is not my purpose to follow in all its details the famous match ofwhich I was that day spectator. My muse has other things to sing ofbesides rallies and charges, scrimmages and drop kicks, touch-downs andpassings. To me the game was chiefly interesting as it was interestingto Jim Halliday and Charlie Newcome; but as during the first part of thematch both these worthies were what they would call "out of it"--thatis, on outpost duty--I found the company I was in better worth studyingthan the ups and downs of the football. 

When the game first began the two good people gazed in silentastonishment. It always takes some time to understand the humour of afootball-match from outside, and Jim's uncle and aunt consequently for atime could make nothing out of the constant succession of charges andscrimmages of which they were witnesses. Presently, however, with theaid of their own observation and the remarks of people around them, theycame to appreciate the sport better, and grew proportionatelyinterested. After a time the interest grew to excitement and excitementfound relief in speech. 

"There's that little red-haired fellow got it again!" exclaimed theaunt; "see how he runs!"

"Wait a bit!" cried the uncle; "that fellow there will catch him--no, hehasn't--just look at him; there's smartness for you! Ah! he's down!"

"But another of the blues has got the ball!" cried the aunt, starting ontiptoe. "Well, to be sure! five onto one! what a shame!"

And so they kept up a running commentary on the fortunes of the game, much to George's amusement and that of those near us. Now and then theuncle appeared suddenly to recollect himself, and would come out with agrunt of disapproval. Once, for instance, when by a sort of commonimpulse the whole of the players engaged in one of the scrimmages fellto the ground, he was hardy enough to ejaculate--

"Disgraceful!"

"Hold your tongue, my love, " broke in his wife; "you know very wellyou'd like to be in it yourself if you were a boy. _I_ would!"

After that the uncle, whatever he thought, said nothing. 

The sides appeared to be very evenly matched; so much so, that when"half-time" was called neither had gained the least advantage. 

Just as the sides were changing over, preparing to renew the contest, aman came running up to where our party stood and called out, --

"Will anyone lend me a watch? Mine has stopped. " This man was thetimekeeper for Cambridge, and indeed was no other than Clarke's friend, one of the breakfast-party that morning. 

"Here is one!" cried George, recognising him and unfastening me from hisribbon-chain. The next moment I was hurrying towards the goals in myborrower's hands. 

I had now nothing for it but to attend closely to the game, for the oldgentleman and lady were too far away for me to be able to observe themany further. 

The ball was started again, and I had the satisfaction of seeing thatboth Jim and Charlie were in new posts, which promised a better chanceof sport. 

And so it happened. 

Hardly had the first scrimmage been formed when Jim was seen slippingout of it with the ball under his arm, making straight for the Sandhurstgoal. He was quickly stopped, however, and after a desperate encounterthe ball got free and rolled out of the crush towards where Charliestood. 

He, not waiting to pick it up, went at it with a flying kick. Up flewthe ball, amid cheers and shouts, right over the heads of the players, and had it not been for the promptitude of the Cambridge "backs" itmight have got behind their goal. And now, as if every one knew thetime was getting short, the play became harder than ever. Many a timedid I catch sight of my two Randlebury friends in the thick of thefight, sometimes hand to hand, sometimes separated by a living wall ofhumanity, but always doing their work, and straining for the one object. The time went on. The man who held me looked at me now oftener than hehad done hitherto; and presently, when I pointed to five minutes tofour, he cried out to a player near him, "Five minutes more. "

That player was Charlie Newcome, and I saw his face flush as of old, andknew he at any rate intended to make the most of the brief timeremaining. 

But two of the minutes were gone before his chance came. Then there wasa cry, and all eyes turned towards him, for there came the ball flyingstraight to where he stood. In a moment he had it, and started to run. It was a desperate chance, but Charlie was ready for desperate deeds. Shout rose on shout, and cheer on cheer, as first one, then another ofthe enemy was overturned or dodged. The more he achieved, the less hisenemies ventured against him, and he dashed through their "forwards" andbetween their "quarter-backs. " Next moment, with a mighty swoop, their"half-back" fell to the earth. 

And now there are but two men to pass, and one of these is Jim Halliday. The avenging host follows in hot haste behind, but the issue of thefight lies with these two. See the grin of joy on Jim's face as hethrows away his cap, and watches his dear enemy advance! It was as if atrumpet-call had suddenly sounded in the ears of two old chargers, andto them that moment the world was all contained in the space whichsevered them. Straight as an arrow rushed Charlie, firm as a rockwaited Jim. Nor had he long to wait. With a bound and a howl his enemyleapt at him, and next moment the two were locked in an embrace theshock of which even I could distinctly hear. Oh, shades of Randlebury Idid your school every turn out two finer men than this pair ofstruggling, straining, rival friends! The collision occurred close tothe goal-line, and a moment afterwards a cry of "Maul!" proclaimed thatthey had in their struggle crossed the line, and that consequently (inaccordance with the law of the game) the contest for the ball must bedecided by these two alone, without aid or hindrance from the breathlessfriends and foes who stood round. A fair field and no favour! A ringwas formed, and as my heart beat rapidly on towards the critical moment, these two strained every nerve to get the advantage for his side before"time" should be called. 

"Bravo, our man!" cried one. "Stick to it, Newcome!" shouted others. "Now you have it, Halliday!" called out a third. Never was duel beforethe walls of Troy more desperate. The crowd burst in onto the field andthronged round, foremost among whom Jim's aunt's voice was heard cryingout shrilly, --

"Well, I never, it's James and Mr Newcome, my love. How hot they are!"

It was evident the contest in which the two youths were engaged was onenot destined to end before time was up. I pointed to within half aminute of the fated hour--and it would take far longer than that foreven so powerful a champion as Jim to wrest the ball from Charlie'sdefiant grasp. The timekeeper turned away from the rivals and held meup. On went my hand, and on went the struggle. 

"Now, Newcome; one tug more?"

"Bravo, our man! You'll do it yet!"

"Time's up! No side!"

Then rose those two from the earth, and immediately the astonished Jimfelt himself embraced before the whole multitude by his aunt. 

"Well, James, and how do you feel after it all?"

"Hungry, " replied Jim. 

So ended the famous match. After that Jim had no more trouble from hisuncle and aunt on the subject of athletics, which they were fain toadmit were a branch of science beyond their comprehension. 

Charlie started that same night for London, with the intention of makingone more effort to help Tom Drift at all hazards. I, meanwhile, wasrestored to the possession of my lawful owner, who returned to hisstudies in the "Mouse-trap"; sitting up all night, I am sorry to say, tomake up for the loss of the day. 

CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR. 

HOW GEORGE READER WENT UP FOR HIS FINAL EXAMINATION AND LEFT ME BEHINDHIM. 

"Old man, you're overdoing it!"

These words were uttered by Jim Halliday, one evening two years afterthe events related in our last chapter, to his friend George Reader, asthe two sat together in Jim's rooms at Saint George's. 

Time had wrought changes with both. My master had secured thescholarship for which he had worked so hard during his first year'sresidence, and no longer inhabited the "Mouse-trap. " His presentquarters were the rooms immediately above those in which he was at thismoment sitting, and it is hardly necessary to say that the two friendswere constantly in one another's society. George, though stillretaining much of his shyness, had made many acquaintances at hiscollege, but Jim was his only friend. The two had their meals together, attended lectures together, worked together, and, though a greatercontrast in all respects could hardly have been possible, were fairlyinseparable. 

At the present moment they were both working hard for the grand Triposexamination which was to close their college career. Every one saidGeorge would stand high in this, and Jim (since he had taken to hardreading) was expected to pass too, though how, none of his friends caredto prophesy. 

They were working hard on the evening in question, when Jim, suddenlyshutting up his books and pushing back his chair, exclaimed, --

"Old man, you're overdoing it!"

George looked up from his work, surprised at the interruption. Alas!his pale face and sunken eyes testified only too forcibly to hisfriend's protest. I, who knew him best, and saw him at all times, hadwatched with grief the steady and persistent undermining of his health, at no times robust, and dreaded to think what might be the result ofthis protracted strain on his constitution. 

"I tell you, you're overdoing it, old man, and you must pull up!"

"Suppose we talk of that afterwards, " said George. 

"Not at all, " retorted the dogged Jim; "just shut up your books, Reader, and listen to me. "

"I'll listen to you, Jim, but don't make me shut up my books. What haveyou got to say?"

"Just this; you're doing too much. I can see it. Everybody can see it. Do you think I can't see your eyes and your cheeks? Do you think Ican't hear you blowing like--"

"Really--" began George. 

"Listen to me!" went on Jim--"blowing like an old broken-winded horse?Yes, you may laugh, but I mean it. Do you think I don't know you'venever been out of doors ten minutes that you could help for six months?and that you have even given up the organ?"

"That's true, " groaned George, leaning back in his chair. 

"Of course it's true, and it's equally true that you'll smash upaltogether if this goes on much longer. Then what will be the use ofall your achievements? What will be the good of them to your father andmother, for instance, when you are knocked up?"

"I _must_ work up to the Tripos now, " pleaded George, "it's only afortnight. "

"My dear fellow, how you talk! As if you weren't certain of a firstclass even if you were not to look at another book between now andthen. "

"I'm not at all certain, " said George, anxiously. 

"Yes you are, and if you hadn't worked yourself into an unhealthy, morbid state you would know it. No, old fellow, we've never quarrelledyet, and don't let us begin. "

"Certainly not. Why should we?"

"We shall if I don't get my way. Now tell me, what time did you go tobed last night?"

"Three, I believe. "

"No, it wasn't, it was four, for I heard you over head; and the nightbefore it was three; and the night before that, if I mistake not, youdidn't go to bed at all. Eh?"

George smiled, but said nothing. 

"Well, " said Jim, putting down his foot, "this must be stopped. You maywork till ten every night, but then you _must_ go to bed, or you and Iwill fall out. "

Jim looked so grave as he said this that George was bound to take it inthe earnest way in which it was meant. A long argument ensued. Georgepleaded, Jim bullied, and at last my master was obliged to promise togive over work at twelve every night for the next fortnight. But morehe would not promise. No persuasions could tempt him out of doors formore than a hurried five minutes' walk, or induce him to yield to thefascinations of the organ. As the days went on, too, he grew more andmore despondent about his own chances, and implored more than once to bereleased from his promise. But Jim was inflexible, and held him grimlyto his engagement. 

"You're certain to be among the first three, " he said, over and overagain, "and if you'll only give yourself two days' rest you may befirst. "

"Yes, of the third class, " mournfully replied my master. "I tell youwhat, Jim, it isn't fair to bind me down to a promise I made almostunder compulsion, and for fear of making you angry. "

"It's quite fair, and you would make me angry if you didn't stick to it. Why, my dear fellow, has it ever occurred to you I'm in for the sameTripos as you, and I'm not behaving as ridiculously as you?"

"You are safe to be in the second class, " said George. 

"I wish I were as safe of a second as you are of a first; but I wouldn'tkill myself to be senior classic. "

"You forget how important it is for me to take a good place. "

"It is far more important to retain your health. "

"Think what a difference it would make at home if I got a fellowship. "

"What a difference it would make if you had to go to a hospital. "

"What a pity, when I have the chance, not to use it. "

"What a pity, when you have the chance, to throw it away by knockingyourself up. "

"Surely four days can't make any difference. "

"Then why not stop work now and take a rest?"

It was plain to see these two would never agree, and so the time went onuntil the date of the examination arrived. 

The night before the two friends met in George's room. George was inlow spirits, nervous and fretful. It was plain to see his friend'sprotest had come too late to be of much use, for he had grown more andmore worn every day; and the additional hours spent in bed had only beena source of worry and vexation. Jim, on the other hand, was doing hisbest to keep up, not his own spirits only, but those of his friend. Hischances of a second class were as momentous to him (though he would notadmit it) as his friend's of a first, and he too was experiencing, though in a less degree, that heart-sinking which so often characterisesthe eve of an examination. 

"You are not going to work to-night?" said he to my master. 

"I think I must, " said George, wearily, and putting his hand to hisforehead. 

"It can't be any earthly good now, " said Jim, "so let's forget all aboutit for a bit and talk of something else. "

Forget all about it! George smiled in a melancholy way at the words;but nevertheless he was not well enough to contest the point. "And bythe way, " added Jim, cheerily, "I've got a letter from Newcome (youremember Newcome, George, the man who played for Sandhurst against ustwo years ago) I think you'll like to hear. "

There was one in the room, whether George liked it or not, who was dyingto hear it!

"He's just gone out to India, you know, to join his regiment. "

"Here's his letter, " he said, producing it and nervously glancing atGeorge to see if he appeared interested. "Shall I read it?"

"Yes, please, " said George, slowly. 

"It's not a long one. `Dear Jim, ' he says, `I wish you were out herewith all my heart. I should at least have one fellow to talk to amongall these strangers. I had a decent enough passage. Father Ocean wason his good behaviour, and the vessel was a snug one. We came in forrough weather in the Persian Gulf, but it didn't afflict me much, and Ilanded here two days ago, safe and sound. I reported myself to ourcolonel yesterday and was introduced to my fellow-officers. Some ofthem are decent fellows, though perhaps hardly in your and my line. Ihad been told the officers of our regiment were a rackety lot, but Idon't see much sign of that yet. It's awfully dull here, and I wouldgive a lot to be up in your rooms at George's, sprawling in your easy-chair and talking over Randlebury days. I suppose you will soon be infor your final. Good luck be with you, my boy! Remember me in yourwill if you get made a Fellow. I suppose the man I met in your roomsonce--Read I believe his name was--will be first. Talking of that day, have you heard lately of Tom Drift? I shall always be glad I went up totown that night and found him out, though I lost him again so soon. Iinquired everywhere when I was last in town, but nothing was known ofhim, except that he was supposed to have been engaged in some--' Butthat's all about an old schoolfellow and won't interest you. `We expectto be ordered up-country pretty soon now, and meanwhile have liberty toamuse ourselves pretty much as we like, but, as far as I can see, cardsunfortunately seem the only recreation in which the officers indulge. However, I shall be kept busy with drill, and being junior officerexpect I shall be for some time fag of the regiment. Mind you write assoon as ever you get this, and a regular yarn. I have had to write thisin a hurry, and in a room where a noise is going on. By next mail youshall get a full, true, and particular account of all the doings, sayings, and adventures of yours as ever, C. N. '

"I'm afraid, " said Jim, as he folded up the letter, "it will be ratherdull out there, for--hullo!"

This ejaculation was caused by seeing that George was sitting motionlesswith his elbows on the table and his face buried in his hands. 

"What's the matter?" he said, getting up and laying his hand on hisfriend's arm. 

George looked up suddenly with a scared face, which frightened Jim. 

"Old man, aren't you well?" said the latter anxiously. 

"Eh?--oh, yes! I'm all right. Why--why do you ask? But I say, Jim, this room is close. Let's go out and take a turn in the big court. "

Jim, in sore perplexity, complied, and for an hour those two paced theflags round the great quadrangle. George was himself again, much toJim's relief, and suffered himself to be sent uncomplainingly to bed atten. To bed, but not to sleep. All night long I heard him toss to andfro, vainly endeavouring to recall Greek and Latin lines or some otherfragment of his studies. At about six he dozed fitfully for an hour, and then came the knock at the door which summoned him from his bed tothe first day of his ordeal. 

I would rather not dwell on those examination days, for I could tell, ifno one else could, that my master was really ill, and was only preventedby sheer excitement from succumbing at any moment. As day by day passedI could see the effort becoming more and more difficult. The nightswere worse than the days--sleepless, feverish, distracted. It wasevident this could not go on for long. 

The last day of the examination arrived, and my master was in his usualplace in the Senate House. His pen flew swiftly all the morning alongthe paper, and one by one, a triumphant tick was set against the printedquestions before him. I could see no one as well employed as he. Jim, at a distant desk, was biting the end of his pen and looking up at theceiling; other men sat back in their seats and stared with knitted browsat the paper before them; others buried their fingers in their hair andlooked the picture of despair. But still my master wrote on. It wantedhalf an hour to the time of closing when he reached the last question onthe paper. I saw his lips curl into a smile as he dashed his pen intothe ink and began to write. Then suddenly it dropped from his fingers, and his hands were clasped to his forehead. He made no motion anduttered no cry; men went on with their work on each side of him, andprofessors at their desks never turned his way. I looked wildly towardsJim; he sat there, biting the end of his pen and scowling at thequestion before him, but for a long time never looked our way. At lasthis head turned, and in an instant he was at his friend's side. Otherscame round too and offered help. Among them my poor master was bornefrom the hall and carried to his rooms, and that evening it was knownall over the University that Reader, of George's, had been taken illduring the Tripos examination, and now lay delirious in his rooms incollege. 

Every one believed the attack was but a slight one, but I feared theworst; I knew how systematically and fatally my master's constitutionhad been undermined by the work of the last three years, and felt sureit could never rally from the fierce fever which had laid him low. Andit never did. The fever left him in due time, and his mind ceased towander, but every hour his strength failed him. His parents and Jim, and sometimes his old friend the rector, would constantly be about hisbed, and to all of them it soon became evident what little hope therewas of his recovery. Indeed, he must have guessed it too!

One day, as Jim sat with him, a faint shout was heard below in thequadrangle. 

"What's that?" inquired George. 

"I'll see, " said Jim, and he went lightly from the room. 

Presently he returned with a face almost beaming. 

"It's good news, " he said; "they were reading the result of the Tripos. "

"And where are you?" asked George. 

"_You_ are first!" said Jim, proudly. 

"Where are you?" repeated George. 

"I am twelfth. "

"In the first class?"

"Yes. "

"That is good news, old fellow!"

"That shout was in your honour, you know; our college is as proud asanything to have the first man. "

George smiled feebly, and for a long time both were silent. 

Then George said, --

"You were right, Jim, after all. If I had listened to you I should havebeen wiser. "

"Never mind, old man, you'll know better another time. "

"I shall never have the chance, Jim. "

"Don't say that, George; every one hopes you'll get better. "

George smiled again, then said, --

"Jim, you will look after my father and mother, won't you? You knowI've got a little money now, and they will be comfortably off, butyou'll go and see them now and then?"

Jim laid his hand on the wasted hand of his friend. 

"And, Jim, I want you to take my watch when I'm gone. I always valuedit as much as anything, and I'd like you to have it. "

Poor Jim could say nothing, he only gave another pressure of hisfriend's hand. 

Then presently Mrs Reader returned to the room, and he slipped away. 

The end was not long in coming. One afternoon as the four friends heloved most stood round his bed, George opened his eyes, and said, --

"Listen!"

"What is it, lad?" whispered the father. 

"An organ--somewhere--open the window. "

They opened the window, but the only music out there was the chirping ofbirds in the trees, and the distant footfalls of passers-by. 

"Listen, there it is!" he said again. 

"What is it playing?" asked the clergyman. 

"A new tune. "

And almost as he spoke the words, he closed his eyes for the last timeon earth. 

CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE. 

HOW I FALL INTO THE HANDS OF AN OLD FRIEND. 

Boys may imagine with what astonishment Jim Halliday discovered, onreceiving the legacy bequeathed him by his dead friend, that I was thevery watch which years before he had known so familiarly as the propertyof Charlie Newcome. At first he could not believe it, and marvelled howany two watches could be so much alike. Then he discovered the "C. N. "scratched long ago inside, which he well remembered. And furtherinquiries enabling him to trace me back to the Muggerbridge silversmith, and from him to the pawnbroker's sale in London, he had no doubt leftthat I was actually the watch of which nothing had been heard since TomDrift owned me. 

My new master did not long remain in Cambridge after the death of hisfriend. He left the University in many respects a more thoughtful andearnest man than he had entered it, and in leaving it set himselfhonestly and faithfully to the work for which he had prepared, and onwhich his heart was fixed. 

I shall not follow him through all the labours of his first villagecuracy, which lasted a year, during which time many people learned tolove the manly, open-hearted young clergyman, and to bless the day whenhe had been sent among them. 

At the end of a year he was removed to the charge of a church in adistant large seaport, where everything was in strangest contrast withthe scenes he had just left. Instead of simple villagers and rustics, his work now lay amongst labourers and artisans of the poorest andlowest class. Instead of fresh country air he had now to breathe thevitiated air of close courts and ill-kept streets; and instead of anatmosphere of repose and innocence, he had now to move in an atmosphereof vice and disorder, from which very often his soul turned with a deepdisgust. Still he worked manfully at his post with a bold heart, readyto face any hardship in the service of his Master, and never weary ofstriving by the Spirit's help to bring into the hard lives around himthe elevating joys which they alone know who can call Christ the Saviourtheirs. One day an adventure befell him which had a strange bearing onmy own fortunes, and the fortunes of more than one of my severalmasters. 

The gaol chaplain at Seatown had recently died, and during the intervalnecessary for appointing a successor Jim was asked and undertook to addto his other labours that of visiting the prisoners confined there. Itwas melancholy, and on the whole monotonous work, for the persons whomhe thus attended, were mostly stupid, ignorant beings on whose hardenedsouls it was difficult indeed to make the slightest impression. Theylistened sulkily to what the chaplain had to say, but to all appearanceneither understood nor cared about a single word, and he had thedisappointment of noticing, week after week, and month after month, scarcely a sign of good rising out of his labours in the case of any oneof them. 

One day the governor met him as he was about to pay his customaryvisits. 

"Oh, good-morning, sir. You'll find a new customer to-day. "

The gaol governor, you will observe, spoke about his prisoners in a verycommercial sort of way. 

"Yes, and a queer one too, " he added; "he doesn't look like one of ourregular customers. "

"What is he imprisoned for?"

"He was drunk, and quarrelled with a sailor on the quay, and pushed himinto the water, I believe. "

"Was the sailor drowned?"

"No, they fished him out, but this gentleman has got six months for it. He seems very down about it, so I'd like you to see him. "

"All right; I will make a point of visiting his cell. Good-morning. "

And Jim went on his round, thinking very little about the governor'scommunication. 

Presently he came to the gallery in which the new prisoner's cell was, and asked the turnkey to show him the door. 

"No use you a-going in there, " muttered that functionary. 

"Why?" asked Jim. 

"He do swear so as I never hear a cove swear afore. "

"Ah, " said Jim, "and I suppose you've heard a good deal too in yourtime. "

"So you may say, but this here young fellow comes out with it as if he'dskin you alive. "

"Well, I must see him. Let me in, please. "

When the door was opened the prisoner's back was turned, nor did healter his position as Jim entered the cell. 

There was undoubtedly something unusual about the man. His figure wasnot that of a labourer or a rough, nor was his attitude one of stolidbrutishness, such as the chaplain had grown only too familiar with. 

Jim stood a moment irresolute, and then said, --

"May I speak to you, friend?"

The man turned himself, and without raising his eyes from the stonefloor, poured out a volley of curses which fully justified the turnkey'sdescription. 

Jim started, and uttered a quick exclamation. But it was not at thecurses, terrible as they were. No, his amazement was of another kindaltogether; for in the face and voice of this unhappy speaker he wasforcibly reminded of one he once knew in very different scenes. As theman went on he watched him keenly and earnestly. He heeded not theoaths, or the taunts, or the threats which flowed from his lips; but asword followed word, and gesture gesture, and look look, he becamegradually convinced that the resemblance was more than imaginary--that, indeed, this blaspheming convict was one whom he had once known andstill remembered. 

Walking up to him, and laying his hand on his shoulder, Jim said, quietly, --

"Tom Drift, do you remember me?"

The man started as for an instant he raised his eyes. Then, lettingthem drop once more, he growled, --

"That's not my name; I don't know you. Let me alone!"

Jim, more convinced than ever, now did the wisest thing he could inleaving the cell without another word. 

"Well, " said the turnkey, with a half-triumphant grin, as they turned toleave the gallery, "wasn't I right? Didn't he give you half a dozen aspretty bits of language as you ever heard?"

"Do not speak to me about it, please, " replied Jim, more tartly than hehad been ever known to speak to any one. 

He did not return to the gaol for a week; and then the first visit hepaid was to the new prisoner's cell. 

He entered it anxiously, and not without misgivings. Tom Drift wassitting on his little bench with his head in his hands. 

"May I come in?" said Jim, nervously. 

Tom neither spoke nor raised his head; and Jim quietly stepped in. Itwas evident the interview of a week ago had had its effect on Tom Drift. He seemed as he sat there like a man who would fain lose himself if heonly knew how. He never once raised his head from his hands or uttereda syllable while Jim sat and talked to him. The latter knew better thanto return to the topic which had so startled the prisoner a week ago, and contented himself with mere kindly talk and the reading of a shortpassage of Scripture. All this Tom suffered without interruption, stirring neither head nor foot all the time. 

"Now, good-bye, " said Jim, rising; "don't get to think you have nofriends. "

The man fidgeted impatiently, and next moment Jim was out in thegallery. 

"What's that man's name?" he inquired of the turnkey. 

"Dykes; and I tell you what, Mr Halliday, he--"

"Open this door, please, my man, " interrupted Jim, by way of cutting himshort. 

During the week which followed Jim was restless and out of spirits. Heseemed unable to settle down to anything, and it was evident his heartwas ill at ease--why, it was easy to guess. He had found Tom Drift, andthere was a chance of rescuing him. But how to do it? How to approachone who was ashamed of his own name, and who repelled with an oath everyoffer of help?

Long and earnestly did my master think over the matter. He also wrote along letter to Charlie, telling him all, and promising to do all thatcould be done for the poor prodigal. During the days that intervenedbefore his next visit, too, he made as careful and full inquiries aboutTom as it was possible to do. 

The poor fellow had come to Seatown a month before, and very shortlybecame a familiar loafer on the quays. No one knew where he came fromor why he was in Seatown, unless indeed he expected to be able toconceal himself on some vessel going abroad. Jim found out the lodging-house where he he had lived, but was unable to hear anything there tothrow light on what he had been doing, or whence he had come. One mansaid he had found him once down by the water's edge, looking as thoughhe intended to throw himself in--and the man who gave him drink at thepublic-house remembered him--and the man whom he had assaulted--but thatwas all. 

Wretched enough was the picture it presented of a hopeless, friendlessvagabond, weary of life, yet not daring to die, and finding his onlysolace in deeper degradation. 

Tom was walking to and fro in his cell the next time Jim called. It wasalmost the first time I had been able to get a view of his face. Andoh! how changed it was. Not merely that it looked pale and worn, withbloodshot eyes and hectic cheeks, but there was a scared despairing lookthere which fairly shocked me. Dissipation, and shame, and want, hadall set their mark there. Alas! how soon may the likeness of God bedegraded and defaced! He continued to walk to and fro as Jim sat downand began to read, but I could see he more than once darted a quickglance from under his clouded eyebrows at my master. I could tell bythe beating of the latter's heart that he had made up his mind not toleave this morning without an effort to speak to Tom of old times, and Itrembled for the result of his venture. 

It seemed impossible to say a word while Tom continued to walk up anddown his cell like a caged beast in his den, and Jim saw that everymoment his opportunity was becoming less likely. 

"Will you stand still and listen to me a moment?" he said at last. 

Tom growled out an oath, and halted in front of him. 

"Be quick, " said he. 

"I'm not going to preach, " said Jim, "I want you to look at something. "

"I want to look at nothing, " muttered Tom, beginning to walk again. 

"But you must, you shall look at it!" exclaimed Jim, starting at once tohis feet. 

Tom stopped short, suddenly, and turned upon him like a hunted animal. But Jim neither faltered nor quailed. He walked resolutely up to thepoor fellow, and suddenly drawing me from his pocket, held me outtowards him, saying, --

"Look at this, Tom Drift!"

Tom knew me at once, and I never saw a man change as he did that moment. The savage scowl vanished from his face, and a sudden pallor came tohis hollow cheeks. A trembling seized him as he held out his hand totake me, and but for Jim's support he would hardly have remainedstanding. My master led him gently to the bench, and putting me intohis hand, said, --

"I'll leave it with you till to-morrow, old fellow; good-bye. "

I heard the key turn in the door behind him, and counted his retreatingfootsteps down the gallery, and then became fully conscious where and inwhose charge I was. 

And now an old familiar sound rang in my ears once more, "Be good to TomDrift!" Long, long had I ceased to believe it possible that the chanceof obeying my dear first master's request would ever again come to me;but here it was. I lay in the prodigal's trembling hands, and looked upinto his troubled face, and heard his deep-drawn sigh, and felt thatthere was still something left for me to do. 

No one disturbed Tom Drift and me that night, Jim had explained enoughto the governor to gain permission for me to remain in the poor fellow'scompany till next day, and I need hardly say I never left his hand. Memories of better days, of noble friends, of broken vows, crowded inupon him as he sat bending over me that night. 

Daylight faded, but still he never stirred; the governor made hisnightly round, but he never took his eyes off me; and when it was toodark to see me he held me clasped between his hands as tenderly as if Ihad been a child. 

I cannot, and would not if I could, describe all that passed through TomDrift's soul that night. What struggles, what remorse, what penitence. Once he murmured Charlie Newcome's name, and once he whispered tohimself, in the words of the parable he had so lately heard, "No moreworthy, no more worthy!" Save for this he neither spoke nor moved, tillan early streak of dawn shot through the grated window and fell upon us. 

Then he turned and knelt, with me still clasped in his hands. And sothat night, and with it the crisis of Tom Drift's life, was passed. 

There was no more difficulty now for Jim Halliday. Tom even gave me upwhen he heard how I had come into my master's possession. 

Then he asked about Charlie, and Jim told him all he knew. And so theweeks went on, and hope once more lit up Tom Drift's face. How could Ihelp rejoicing in the share I had had in this blessed work ofrestoration?

Alas! how fleeting is this world's satisfaction!

A short time afterwards, only a week or so before the termination of TomDrift's imprisonment, my master was returning home from the gaol, tired-out after his day's work. His way lay over a place half brickfield, half common, across which a narrow footpath went. We had got half wayover when suddenly a dreadful sensation seized me. I was slippingthrough the bottom of my pocket! Though I had a watered ribbon attachedto me my master always carried me loose in his waistcoat pocket, withnever a suspicion of the hole that was there. But now that hole seemedsuddenly to expand in order to let me through. 

Lower and lower I slipped. I tried to scream, I endeavoured to attractmy master's attention. But all in vain. He strode unconsciously on, never giving a thought to me or my peril. I held on as long as I could. Then I dropped. If only I could have fallen on his foot, or struck hisknee as I descended! But no. I slid quietly down, scarcely grazing histrousers, and just out of the reach of his boot. For a moment I hopedwildly he would see me as I lay at his feet. Alas! he walked heedlesslyon, leaving me on my back on the footpath, powerless to cry after him, and not daring to guess what would become of me. 

In fact, reader, I was lost. 

CHAPTER TWENTY SIX. 

HOW I WAS UNEXPECTEDLY ENLISTED IN A NEW SERVICE, IN COMPANY WITH ANIRISHMAN. 

The first thing I was conscious of, after partially recovering from theagony, mental and bodily, of my late accident, was a sharp tugging at myhandle. 

"Watch! I say, watch!" I heard a voice whisper, "what's to be done?"It was the watered ribbon. 

"How should I know?" I growled; "if you had done your duty we shouldnever have been here!"

One is always ready to blame somebody for everything that happens amiss. 

"Oh, yes, I dare say, " it replied; "if you hadn't poked your nose intothat hole we should never have been here. "

I did not like being thus talked to by a disreputable piece of wateredribbon, and so kept a dignified silence. 

"What's to be done?" presently repeated my companion, giving me anotherrude tug at the collar. 

"Hold your tongues, if we've nothing to say, " was my curt reply. 

"Oh, but I've a lot to say, " went on this irrepressible chatterbox; "inthe first place--"

"_Will_ you be silent?" said I, angrily; "isn't it bad enough to be downhere, all through your carelessness?"

"But it's not through my carelessness; it was through the hole in thepocket you got down here. "

"If you had half the sense of a--"

"Of a nickel watch, let us say, " said the watered ribbon, losing histemper; "and that would be precious little. Well?"

"If you had half the sense of a blade of grass, you would have been ableto prevent it. "

"But you see I hadn't half the sense of a blade of grass, or a quarter, or an eighth, or a sixteenth. If I had I should have known better thanto lend my moral support to a good-for-nothing, tarnished, ill-regulated, mendacious piece of Britannia metal, that chooses to callitself a silver watch. Ha, ha! what do you think of that?"

What I thought of that this impudent ribbon was not destined then tohear; for there came at that moment a sound of approaching footstepsacross the field, which made us both hold our breaths. Unless thecomer, whoever he was, could get sight of us, he was sure to tread righton the top of us! Luckily the moon was out, and with her aid I mademyself as bright as possible. The footsteps belonged to a youth, not, certainly, oppressed by melancholy, to judge by the tune he waswhistling, or very infirm, to judge by the pace at which he advanced. 

He came nearer and nearer, and in another step would have been upon mewhen suddenly both he and the whistling halted. He stooped, and, withan exclamation of surprise, picked me up. 

"Man alive, an' it's a watch! Hout, boys! there's luck for yez!"

So saying he thrust me and the ribbon into a pocket crowded with allsorts of oddments, and walked on more rapidly than ever. 

I was too bewildered at first by my narrow escape and the sudden changein my fortunes to pay much heed to my new quarters; but presently thateverlasting ribbon jerked my neck roughly, and called out in a loudwhisper, --

"I say, watch, he's an Irishman!"

"Oh!" said I, as briefly as I could. 

"Yes, and there's a lucifer here tells me he's no better than he oughtto be. What do you think of that?"

"I think you and he ought to understand one another, if that's thecase, " growled I, unable to resist the temptation of a sarcastic reply. 

"Ho, ho! that's pretty good for you, watch. However, there are somefolk who are not as good as they ought to be, let alone better. "

After a brief pause he began once more. 

"He's young; only eighteen, I'm told. "

As no answer was necessary here, I vouchsafed none. 

"And he's trying to get a job on some ship, there's a nice look-out!What a poor figure _you'd_ cut if you went to sea!"

I could not stand this, probably because I knew it was true; so I turnedmy back, and in self-defence bade good evening to an old pocket-combwhich lay near me. 

"Whew! good evening! whew!" replied he. He had a curious way, thiscomb, of giving a sort of half-whistle, half-sigh, between every fewwords he spoke. 

"I suppose you are an older resident here than I am?" I suggested, byway of making myself agreeable. 

"No, I'm not, whew! I belong to the other pocket, whew! I don't knowwhy I'm here, whew! but make yourself at home, whew!"

"I hear your master is going to sea, " said I. 

"Not at all, whew! Who told you that? whew! but I tell you what, whew--"

"What?" I inquired. 

At this moment our master stopped still in the middle of the road. Ilooked out and saw that he was standing face to face with a finesoldierly-looking fellow in uniform, who wore a cockade of ribbons onhis shako. 

"Good evening, my lad, " said the soldier. 

"Good evening, cap'n, " said the youth. 

"Not cap'n just yet, " said the other, laughing; "call it sergeant. "

"Well, sargint. Good evening to ye, sargint. "

"I've been looking for you all day, that I have, " said the sergeant. 

"What, me!" said my new master, in astonishment. 

"Well, I was told to look out for the finest young fellow in the place, and that's about the same thing. "

The lad chuckled at this vastly, and then said, --

"And what might ye be wanting me for, gineral, at all at all?"

"Faith, Patrick, " said the sergeant, adopting the Irish brogue as if hehad been a native, "to give yez a message from the Quane, just. "

"The Quane!" shouted the Irishman. 

"Sure, no other. She wants your help, my lad. "

"And she shall have it, bless her! What can I do at all?"

"Arrah, she wants yez to foight a blackguard or two that's guv' herimpidence. "

"They have! I'm yer boy for a shindy. Where are they, colonel?"

"Not far off. And, by the way, she sent ye this bran new shillin' withher best respex to ye, Pat; and sez I'm to axe ye what you'll take todrink her health in; so come along, my lad. "

Patrick did come along, and of course was duly and willingly enlisted byhis new friend, who promised him honour, and glory, and riches enough tomake a commander-in-chief's mouth water. 

My new master, perhaps, was fond of making himself out a greatersimpleton than he really was. At any rate, he appeared to believe everyword the recruiting officer told him. And having no friends to saygood-bye to, and no luggage to pack up, and no money (unless he pawnedme) to spend, he was ready for marching orders immediately. To mysurprise, he showed no desire now to dispose of me. 

"What 'ud I want to give him up?" he said to himself as he held me inhis hand. "Shure he'll be handy to tell the toime by on the faylde ofbattle. " And with this satisfactory assurance he put me back in hispocket, which, greatly to my relief, was not the one which containedthat asthmatic pocket-comb. 

Patrick had not to leave for his depot till next day, and took a longstroll through the streets of Seatown along with the recruiting officerthis evening. He was in high spirits and very proud of being a soldier, so the sergeant had very little difficulty in keeping him in goodhumour. Indeed, he stood that officer in good stead once; forencountering a compatriot acquaintance, a likely sort of fellow too, hehelped her Majesty's army to a fine recruit. 

"Here, Larry, ye blackguard, " called he, "here's a gentman axing foryez. "

Larry, a hulking sheepish young Irishman, did not look particularlyhappy at this information, and replied, --

"And what's to prevent him axing?"

"Man dear, and is that the way ye address one of the Quane's foightingmen? Spake to him, meejor dear. "

The "dear meejor" at this point took up the discourse. 

"Faith, " he said, "till I saw Patrick here I thought there wasn't asingle boy in the place smart enough to wear a red coat, but I seethere's two of ye anyhow. "

And the sergeant laughed loud and clapped Larry on the back, and toldhim it was a shame for him to be walking about in boots full of holes, when he might be strutting up and down as fine as any gentleman in theplace, to say nothing of regular pay and quarters, and all the chance ofglory. And Patrick added his persuasions, and quoted his own example asa great argument. And between them Larry let the shilling drop into hishand, and the three went off to drink her Majesty's health, and thencontinued their pilgrimage through the streets. 

At one street corner there was a rush of people, reading a newly-postedbill. Fancy my astonishment as I read:--"£20 reward! Lost yesterday(February 4th), near Seatown Gaol, an old silver watch, of very littlevalue to any one but the owner. A piece of black ribbon was attached. Any one bringing the above to the Reverend James Halliday, at 2, QuayStreet, will receive £20 reward. "

How my heart beat as our party halted in front of this announcement. Alas! my new master was not a scholar, and on satisfying himself theobject of the people's assembling was not a fight, he took no furtherinterest in the matter, but shouldered his way past with no more thoughtof me just at that moment than of the North Pole. 

That night, as I lay in the dark in my new quarters, I had leisure tothink over the strange turn which my fortune had taken. Here I was in atown where three of those whom at some time or other I had called masterwere living. One was a common prisoner, one a hard-working curate, andone a raw recruit. Of my other masters, one was a London thief, one layin his grave, and the other, and best loved of all, was far away inscenes and perils which I could not so much as picture to myself. Whatwould become of me? I knew not; but I could not help feeling the bestpart of my life was spent, for who could be to me again what some ofthose whom I now remembered had been?

I had arrived thus far in my meditations when I all of a sudden turnedfaint. I knew what the matter was at once, and what did this lump of anIrishman understand about watch-keys and winding up?

I called faintly to the watered ribbon--

"I'm running down!"

"Down where?" ejaculated he, in well-feigned alarm. 

"Wretch!" gasped I, "somebody ought to wind me up. "

"Up where?" again asked my unsympathetic tormentor. 

"Brute!" was all I could say. 

"That's just the way with you clever people, " began the ribbon; "as longas you are all right no name's bad enough for poor people like us; butas soon as ever you get into trouble--"

Here with a groan I ran down, and was spared the end of his speech. 

I only had a vague, dim idea of what took place for the next few months. I was conscious of long railway journeys, and arriving at a big, dreary-looking sort of prison where there was nothing but soldiers. 

All day long the place rang with bugle notes and words of command; andall night my master slept in a great room with a lot of noisy men, ofwhom I have an impression he was not the most silent. In due time heput a coat over the waistcoat in which I lived, and was mightily proudthe first time he walked abroad in his new dress. And so things went onfor nearly a year. 

But one day it was evident some great excitement had come to vary themonotony of our barrack life. Officers talked in clusters instead ofdrilling their men, and the men instead of doing their ordinary workcrowded into the long shed to talk over the news. 

And it soon came out what the news was. The regiment had been orderedto hold itself in readiness for immediate service at the seat of war inIndia! What excitement there was! What cheers and exultation! Whatspirits the men were in, and what friends every one became all of asudden with everybody else! Among the rest my young master's blood rosewithin him at the thought of fighting. He had grown sick of the dullroutine of barrack life, and more than once half repented his easyacceptance of the Queen's shilling, but now he thought of nothing butthe wars, and his spirits rose so high that the sergeant on duty had topromise him an arrest before he could be reduced to order. 

At night the room where we slept was a perfect Babel. Men talked ofnothing but the voyage and the campaign that was to follow, and wishedthe marching orders had been for to-morrow instead of next week. 

Suddenly (and I don't exactly know why) my master remembered myexistence, and I heard him call out, --

"Does any of you boys know anything about a watch, at all?"

"Duck Downie does, " replied one or two voices. 

"Duck Downie, me jewil, will ye step this way just?" called out mymaster, "and cast your eye on my watch?"

The gentleman rejoicing in the name of Duck Downie was a ferocious-looking little fellow who had, before he decided to devote his energiesto the extermination of her Majesty's foes, been a watchmaker'sapprentice. He came, forward at the invitation, and cast his eye in thedirection indicated. It was evidently the first time he had known thatPaddy so much as owned a watch; for he stared hard at me, and then saidwith a knowing wink, --

"Did he struggle much?"

"Faith and he did a wee bit, Duck, but so did I too, ye see, " saidPaddy, entering into the joke. 

"Let's have a look at him, " said Duck, taking me and stripping the coatoff my back. "Give us the key. "

"The kay!" said Paddy, whose notions of a watch's interior weredelightfully vague; "sure there's no kay. Here, Edward I will ye lendMister Downie a kay!"

The youth addressed as Edward fumbled in his pocket and pulled out thekey of his locker, which he handed to my master. 

"That's the boy! Here's a kay, Duck darlint, since ye want one. "

Duck was rude enough to laugh immoderately at this--so much so, that mymaster, who was unconscious of a joke, grew quite angry. 

"Ef that's all ye can do--gape like an ould money-box--I can do that aswell myself; so hand up the watch!"

Duck Downie laughed again at this, and then said, --

"I want the key of the watch, puddin'-head, not this thing!"

"Arrah, it's got no kay, I tell ye. What ud _it_ want a kay for?"

Duck laughed again at this. 

"Paddy, " said he, "next time you borrow a gentleman's watch be sure youask 'im for the key, do you hear? You want the key to wind the thingup--that's why he don't go. "

Paddy, who had sense enough to see that Mr Downie knew more about awatch than he did, held his peace, and took no trouble to refute theimputation on the way in which he had come by me. 

Duck Downie having, with some difficulty, borrowed a watch-key, wound meup, greatly to my delight and that of my master. It was delicious tofeel the blood tingling through my veins once more, and to have my heartbeat again with renewed animation. My master's glee was only equalledby his astonishment. He looked at first as if he suspected Duck Downieof being in league with supernatural powers; but when that eminentmechanic took the trouble to explain to him the value of the operationhe had just performed on me, Paddy without a word rushed out, at therisk of all sorts of penalties, into the town, and knew no peace till hehad possessed himself of a "kay, " which henceforth became theinseparable companion of me and the watered ribbon. 

CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN. 

HOW I MADE A LONG JOURNEY, AND REACHED THE HAPPIEST MOMENT OF MY LIFE. 

One morning, in the autumn of the same year, a small cluster of menstanding on the deck of the troopship "Lizard, " as she tumbled lazilyforward over the waves, descried in the far horizon before them a dimlow line of blue. My master was one of this cluster, and havingrecovered from the depression which had afflicted both his spirits andhis stomach during the early part of the voyage, now celebrated the"discovery of India" with a cry so outlandish, and other manifestationsof joy so extravagant (one of which was pitching one of the sergeants'caps overboard) that he was instantly summoned before the officer incommand, and ordered to remain below for the next twelve hours. Thiswas, I need hardly say, a disappointment to both of us. 

All day long we heard overhead the crowding of footsteps, the clankingof chains, and the banging about of baggage. The men were paraded ondeck and one or two servants down where we were were very busy polishingthe officers' swords. Altogether it looked as if we were not intendedto remain an hour longer in Bombay than was necessary before marching tothe front. Indeed, the arrival of a newspaper on board, along with thepilot, created such a ferment among the officers and men that it wasevident something unusual had happened since we last heard the news. 

When, towards evening, my master was allowed once more to come on deck, we were not long in discovering the cause of all this. 

The Indian Mutiny, which had just broken out when we left England, hadsuddenly assumed enormous and hideous dimensions. The rebels, takingadvantage of their first success, seemed to have gone mad with a mostcruel madness. Helpless Englishwomen and children had been massacredand outraged; gallant Englishmen, overpowered by numbers, had been putto shameful deaths. One by one our strongholds had been surprised andcaptured; and, carrying all before them, the traitors bade fair to leaveEngland not so much as a foothold in India. 

This was enough to make the blood of the tamest among us boil withindignation, and, as the dreadful truth, bit by bit, dawned on ourgallant fellows, their impatience became almost beyond control. Mymaster was in sad peril of another arrest by reason of his excitement. 

"Show me the spalpeens! Show me 'em!" roared he, almost beside himself. "Let me at 'em, Duck, ye blackguard; let me at 'em!"

And so saying he seized Mr Downie, who happened to be standing nearhim, and nearly shook the bones out of that unoffending hero's body. 

"Do ye hear?" roared Paddy, quite out of his senses. 

"I hear, " said Downie, coolly, proceeding to take off his coat and tuckup his shirt-sleeves as if he were going to wash his hands. 

"What's the gossoon about at all?" cried my master, taken aback by thisunexpected reply to his question. 

"On'y going to smash you!" calmly replied the imperturbable Duck, beginning to spar--"so come on, my lad!"

That Patrick would have joyfully accepted the invitation I have nodoubt, had not an accident at that moment befallen him. 

A trolly coming up behind, took him off his feet. To recover himself, he took a spring forward, and landed full on the top of the juniorensign of the regiment, a mild youth with a very little voice, and forthe next minute the two were rolling, one on the top of the other, overand over, along the wet deck, amid the laughter of everybody. 

By the time Paddy had picked himself up, and helped the poor youngensign to his feet, his ardour was sufficiently damped. He apologisedwith as good grace as he could to his late victim, and made very humbleexcuses to the sergeant in charge, who, fortunately for him, hadwitnessed that the affair was an accident. 

Duck Downie, however, with his coat off and his sleeves tucked up, stillawaited his man as if nothing had happened, and seemed surprised thatPaddy was not as eager as before for the fray. The latter, however, quite sobered by this time, merely cried out in the hearing ofeverybody, --

"Arrah! Downie, darlint, ye may put on your coat, because I forgive youthis onst; but, man dear, don't do it again!" and was thereby consideredby everybody to have had the best of the whole adventure. 

Under such dignified circumstances did we set foot on Indian soil. 

The reader will be surprised that I have never yet remembered that whenI last heard of him, Charlie, my first master, was in India. I didremember it often and often--during the voyage and after landing. Andyet I quite despised myself for imagining (as I did) that the next whiteface I saw would surely be his. India is a big place--a dreadfully bigplace--and the chances of finding any one particular person there areabout as great as of discovering a needle in a haystack. He might haveleft India long ago; he might have fallen in the massacres of the pastfew months; he might be somewhere right across the continent. And so, though I could not get rid of a vague sort of expectation, during thefirst few days of my being in India, I always laughed at myself for asimpleton for thinking such a chance possible. 

However, we had no time for thinking just then. From the moment welanded in Bombay, and for a week or two afterwards, we were continuallyon the move. Long forced marches under a broiling sun, it was enough towear out any ordinary troops. But our men, and the column to which theywere now attached, formed no ordinary body of men. They were Englishmenhastening to the rescue, and nothing on earth could stop them. It wasstrange how slowly the news of those stirring times came to our ears. 

One day we heard with a horror that I can never describe of that foulmassacre at Cawnpore, where in cold blood gentle English ladies andinnocent children had been brutally massacred, and their bodies flunginto a well. Then the news came of the achievements of that wonderfularmy of relief led by Havelock. 

Day after day came the news of his march on Lucknow, where our besiegedfellow-countrymen lay. Every one knows of that heroic march. Inch byinch, almost, that handful of men fought their way, fighting a battle aday, and never yielding a step. 

One day a horseman galloped into our camp in a great state ofexcitement. As he flung himself from his horse he shouted something, but we only caught the two words, "Havelock, " "Lucknow. " It was enough. Lucknow was saved! There rose cheer upon cheer at the news, and shoutupon shout. Men and officers alike waved their hats and shook hands, Paddy, as usual, let his feelings get the better of him, and nearlybroke Larry's spine with the joyful thump he gave it; indeed, it is safeto say our men were almost as proud as if they had themselves achievedthe relief. 

Presently, however, there spread a rumour that though Lucknow was saved, it was not yet relieved. 

Havelock had fought his way in, but until help arrived, he, too, wouldbe a prisoner within its walls; and almost in the same breath came thegrand news; our column was the one destined for this glorious work! Howour hearts beat! What mattered it now how long the marches were, andhow grilling the sun?

"Lucknow" was the cry; and that magic word sustained us in everyhardship and peril. 

We reached Cawnpore at last, and there joined Sir Colin Campbell'sforce. The sight of this house of murder was simply maddening to themen. They left the place next morning with a sort of shudder, and settheir faces towards Lucknow. It was not till we were well on the marchthat I had leisure to look about me and notice how our force wasincreased. 

Several now regiments were with us, and the commander-in-chief and hisstaff and heavy guns and siege trains accompanied the march. With theexception of a few skirmishes, my master had yet to learn what a battlewas. We crept on, halting sometimes, and sometimes pushing on, untilone jubilant afternoon the distant walls of Lucknow appeared in sight. Then indeed our brave fellows began to breathe again. 

To-morrow would bring them to the city walls, and--what was equallyafter their hearts--face to face with the enemy. We bivouacked here forthe night. 

Now it happened on this particular night that my master was on sentinelduty for the first time in his life, and mightily proud of his charge. There he stood as stiff as a poker, with his rifle at his side, and Iverily believe would have thought nothing of running his bayonet throughthe body of the commander-in-chief if he had presented himself withoutthe password. 

Patrick was not a dreamer; and as he looked across in the direction ofLucknow I don't suppose his meditations were of the loftiest kind. Heknew there would be a fight to-morrow, and so he was happy; he knew dutymight call him to action even to-night, and so he kept a very sharplook-out at his post; but otherwise his mind was profoundly untroubled. It was not so with me. On the eve of the battle I could not but feelthat in a few hours I might be ownerless, and in a dead man's pocket;and, as I looked back upon my strangely eventful life, I sighed, andhalf hoped, if he were slain, they would in mercy bury me with him, andso end my cares once and for all. Little I knew!

It was scarcely ten o'clock when Paddy was startled by approachingfootsteps. They belonged to an officer of our force who was returningat this hour from an outpost. Paddy eyed him suspiciously, and evenwhen he gave the word looked disappointed at not having the privilege ofusing his bayonet upon him. Just as he was going on his way, theofficer turned and said, in a voice which startled me, --

"Is it ten yet, my man?"

Why did the voice startle me? I could not see the speaker's face, butas he spoke I fancied myself back in the Randlebury schoolroom, and mymemory saw a bright-eyed boy I had known once whom I could almost havebelieved to be the speaker of these few words. Strange what fanciestake possession of one! Patrick, as he _had_ a watch, and had by thistime learned the mysterious art of telling the time, was not the man toanswer such a question as this at random. 

"Hould my gun, cap'n, " he said, "till I sthrike a light. "

Fancy a sentinel asking an officer to hold his gun! I knew enough ofmilitary discipline to make me tremble at the thought of what wouldbecome of my unceremonious master. 

But the officer, instead of flying into a rage, took the rifle andlaughed. That laugh reminded me more than ever of Randlebury. 

"You're a pretty fellow, " he said. "Is that the manners they teach youat home. "

"I axe yer pardon, colonel, but--"

Here the officer laughed again--and oh! how my heart beat as I heardhim. "If I stay here much longer I shall get promoted to general, Isuppose, " said he. "Look sharp and tell me the time. "

Patrick, without another word, produced a light. The officer's face washalf turned as he did so, and I could not catch his features, but as heturned impatiently towards the sentinel the light fell full upon it, andwith a bound of astonishment I recognised in the swarthy, soldierlyofficer before me, no other than my oldest and dearest master, CharlieNewcome, of Randlebury. 

The strange presentiment, then, was true--I had found him after so longa time! But what if he should not see me? What torment to be so nearand yet so far! And how was it likely he would take notice of a commonprivate's watch, and if he did, how was it likely at this distance oftime he would remember poor me? Jim, I know, had told him of thestrange way in which I had come into his hands, and would certainly havealso told him about losing me. He must, therefore, long ago have givenup all thoughts about me, or if he ever remembered me it would be as onedead. 

My master took me out and held me up to the light. 

"It'll be about five minutes past ten, your honour, by my watch. "

"Thank you. Good--hullo?"

He had seen me! His eyes were suddenly riveted upon me, and he seemedglued to the spot where he stood. 

"Did your honour plaze to spake?" asked Paddy, proceeding to put me backinto his pocket. 

"My old watch!" cried Charlie, springing forward, and catching hold ofmy master's hand. "Give it to me!"

Paddy's surprise was unbounded. At first he deemed the man mad, thendrunk, then gradually it dawned upon him this was not an officer at all, but a highwayman in disguise, seeking to take advantage of his solitudeto rob him. 

In an instant he sprang back, and, seizing his rifle, levelled thebayonet to within an inch of Charlie's heart. 

"Now, ye thievin' blackguard, " said he, "move an inch and I'll stick yelike a pig. Arrah! but ye came to the wrong boy when ye thought to playyour tricks on me! Stan' still now, or as sure as you're alive you're adead man;" and he gave Charlie a suggestive touch with the point of hisweapon, which showed plainly he had every intention of being as good ashis word. 

Here was a predicament! and I could do nothing to help. 

Charlie, fairly penned in a corner, was at a loss what to say or do. Hebegan in an angry strain, --

"Don't be a fool, sir; do you--"

"Howld yer tongue!" roared Paddy, giving another poke with his bayonet. 

Then Charlie attempted to laugh, which enraged the sentry all the more. 

"Is it mock me, ye would, as well as rob me, ye foul-mouthed spalpeen, you?" he cried. 

"I don't want to rob you, " put in Charlie. 

"Faith and I'll see ye don't, " retorted the Irishman. 

"Listen to me an instant, " besought Charlie. 

"The sorra a word. Ye shall say it all before the gineral the morrow, for there I'll take ye. "

For some moments Charlie stood in this awkward fix, not daring to stir, or even to speak, and with every prospect of spending the night with abayonet point within an inch of his body. 

Suddenly, however, a brilliant idea occurred to him. If I really washis old watch, as he fancied, this man had possibly found me whereHalliday had lost me. 

It was a bare chance every way, but he determined to try it. 

"So you are from Seatown!" he suddenly exclaimed. 

The rifle literally dropped from the astonished sentry's hand. 

"Who told ye that?" he almost shrieked. 

"Never mind, " said Charlie, following up the advantage, and softlystepping out of his corner. "It's two years since you left, isn't it?"

Patrick was "dumfoundered. " This man must be in league, surely, withthe powers of darkness!

"_Now_ do you know why I want that watch?" said Charlie sternly, at thesame time quietly picking up the dropped rifle. The tables were fairlyturned now. The wretched Patrick, whose conscience had more than oncesmitten him about the way in which he had become possessed of me, lookedthe picture of terror--not at the bayonet, but at the man who held it. 

He drew me from his pocket with trembling hands, and holding me out atarm's length, cried, --

"Arrah, arrah! take him, gineral, take him. How was I to know you wasthe gentleman dropped him there? Who'd have--"

By this time Charlie had seized me and taken me to the light. In aninstant he stripped me of my coat, and there, with bounding heart, readhis own initials, scratched years ago with his own boyish hand, in thedormitory of Randlebury. 

"It _is_ it!" he shouted; "my old watch! Who would have thought itpossible!"

Then turning to the trembling Paddy, he said, in a voice almost unsteadyin its eagerness, --

"My man, what will you sell me this watch for?"

Paddy looked more astonished than ever. 

"Sure it's your honour's own. "

"It was once, but it's yours now. But I'll give you a ten-pound notefor him and a gold watch besides if you'll let me have him back. "

Imagine Paddy's astonishment. 

"Sure Duck Downie says it's not worth thirty shillings--"

"Who cares for Duck Downie?" shouted Charlie, pulling out his purse. "Here's the money, and if you come to Lieutenant Newcome's tent when youare off duty you shall have the watch. "

And so saying, and not waiting for another word, he darted off, with mestill in his hands, leaving Paddy fairly stupefied with amazement, andwith only presence of mind enough left to pick up his rifle and make aroyal salute to the retreating form of my first and last and dearestmaster. 

CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT. 

HOW I SAVED MY MASTER'S LIFE, AND RETIRED FROM ACTIVE SERVICE. 

I may with truth say, I reached that night the happiest moment in mylife. 

Indeed, as the young officer walked on, with me held tight in his hand, it would be hard to say which of us two was the happier. 

Charlie's soldier life had not turned out as happily as, long ago, hehad pictured it to himself. Away from home, and with comparatively fewfriends, he had felt himself losing somewhat of his freshness and boyishenthusiasm, and settling down rather to habits of a humdrum commonplaceofficial. Books he had very few, and congenial society still less. Quartered as he had been during the first two years in dull countrystations, he had grown weary of the routine of everyday life, and longedfor the sight of fresh faces, fresh scenes, fresh occupation. 

After a while this desire was gratified in his removal to Calcutta. Butif he had suffered from dulness and weariness before, he was now indanger of going to another extreme. In his first joy at getting backinto lively society he rushed with ardour into all the attractions andgaieties of the capital. Not that Charlie was a fellow ever to make thesame mistakes as Tom Drift. He never associated with companions he knewto be bad, or allowed himself to be led into scenes which were in theslightest degree discreditable. But he did enter rather too readilyinto the frivolities of his new quarters, at the expense of his peace ofmind. His popularity was his greatest snare. Everywhere he went hebecame a favourite. People were eager to get him to join their parties, and he was often enough too good-natured to refuse. And thus Charliewasted much of his time, and in the end found himself far moredissatisfied with himself than in the quiet monotony of his up-countryduties. 

Do not let me do him injustice, reader, in my account of him duringthose few weeks at Calcutta. 

He was gay but not fast, frivolous though not dissipated. His errorswere errors of unprofitableness, but never of viciousness. Even in hismost frivolous moments he had never been anything but a gentleman and agood fellow. Still, it had been unsatisfactory, and he knew it to be soin his inmost soul. 

In the midst of this life came the mutiny, and, like hundreds of others, Charlie leapt at the call of duty, and flung to the winds all thoseattractions which had held him captive during the weeks of his idleness. Like hundreds of others his blood boiled at the tragedies of that awfultime, and now, of all the rescuing host, there was not one who loved hisown life less, or his country's glory more, than Charlie Newcome. 

And thus it was with him when I found him. 

But to-night, whatever may have been the memories, and hopes, andregrets which secretly animated his breast in finding himself againpossessed of his boyish treasure and the companion of so many of hishappiest days, Charlie Newcome had no leisure to sit down and spend histime in passive contemplation. He had a report to make to his colonel, and an important despatch to carry to the commander-in-chief. Thenthere was the ammunition to be served out among his men, and he had tosuperintend the process. And there were the plans for next day'sassault to be talked over with his brother officers, and the variousdetachments for that duty to be selected. So that Charlie was a busyman that night. But with what a light heart he laboured! Among hisoccupations he did not forget the gold watch, but had the satisfactionof making Paddy the happiest man (but one) in the camp. 

Thus, first with one thing, then another, the night wore on; and, whentowards morning he lay down on his camp bed for a hurried rest, he fellasleep like a child, whistling one of the old Randlebury songs, and withme, as of old, under his pillow. 

At the first note of the bugle he sprang from his couch, and putting mein my old abode, next his heart, sallied out to see the preparations forthe advance. It was generally known we were to make a dash for theapproaches to Lucknow this day; and at the prospect of the attack thetroops hailed the signal to get under arms with enthusiasm. It wasplain to see, by the alacrity with which the men worked, that my masterwas a prime favourite in his own company; indeed, such was theirpromptitude that we stood ready and waiting long before the order tomarch arrived. 

During this interval, if Charlie was seized with a desire to know thetime once, he was seized twenty times; and each time a mere glance wasnot enough to satisfy him. How natural it all seemed, and how like oldtimes!

Then came the longed-for signal, and with a cheer the men set theirfaces towards Lucknow. 

Now, the reader must not expect I am going to describe militaryoperations for his edification. I know nothing about columns andcountermarches, and echelons and skirmishing; how could a watch, hidunder a scarlet jacket, be expected to do so?

True, I had eyes that could penetrate any number of scarlet jackets, butwhat good was that when I knew about as much of the art of war as I didof candle-making!

But there are some things in the events of that memorable day which Ishall remember as long as I live. 

After about an hour's march we were suddenly halted, and almost at thesame moment there came the sullen boom of a gun ahead. I could feelCharlie's heart leap at the sound. It was the enemy at last; and nowthe fate of Lucknow was to be decided. 

A horseman dashed up to the head of our column and called out to ourcolonel, in a voice loud enough for us all to hear, "Bring up yourbattalion. " Next moment we were advancing in double quick time througha lane of troops to the front. There two other regiments stood waiting, and almost the instant we arrived the whole body moved forward at a run. 

It was an exciting moment. The enemy's guns sounded louder and morefrequent ahead, and dropping shot at either side announced that ourdanger was not all in front. The pace was kept up for a hundred yardsor so, until we reached a cluster of trees, in whose shelter the columnwas halted to get breath. The fire in front still kept up, and throughthe smoke I thought I could discern the dim outline of a low building, not five hundred yards distant. At this moment Charlie and the otherofficers were summoned to the front for orders. They were brief and tothe point. 

"Straight for the fort, there!" said the commanding officer, "theshortest way you can take your men!"

It was an order that meant certain death to scores of those bravefellows; yet when they had heard it they cheered as schoolboys cheer fora holiday. 

Again we stood waiting. The officers with their swords drawn stepped infront. The men quickly loaded and fixed bayonets, and then came theshout, --

"Forward!"

As we cleared the trees we burst full in the face of the enemy's fire. For a moment the balls whizzed harmlessly over our heads, then there wasa crash on the ground before us, and, as we rushed on, the men parted oneither side to avoid stepping over a dying man. It was awful; and everystep we took grew more and more fatal. Under that withering fire menwent down by the dozen; yet still the column rushed on. The front rankbroke into gaps, which the rear rank men dashed forward to fill, tillthey themselves fell. And still on we rushed. Officers, too, everywhere to the front, dropped one by one; but still we never checkedour pace. The sullen walls of the fort stood clear before us and pouredupon us an unceasing shower of bullet and ball. In a minute ourforemost men would be at the walls. 

"Forward now! follow me!" I heard Charlie cry; and looking roundnoticed for the first time that the captain of his company was missing. The men cheered by way of answer, and their run broke into a rush asthey followed him under the guns. Others were at the fort before us, and the storm had already begun. Heedless of wounds, heedless of peril, the men swept towards the breach, and called on those behind to come on. Charlie was one of the earliest of our battalion there, and already hisfeet were in the place, and he was waving to his men to come up when--

I felt a dull crushing sensation. My nerves collapsed; my senses leftme. Speech, sight, hearing, all failed me in an instant; a strangedarkness came over me, and then I was conscious of nothing. 

------------------------------------------------------------------------

When my senses slowly and wearily recovered I was still lying in mymaster's pocket in the place where he had fallen at the storming of thebreach. Firing was still going on all around, but the shouts of our menrose now from inside the fort instead of outside. And what shouting itwas! The enemy's guns ceased as if by magic, and the distant sounds offiring showed plainly enough that the main body, now that we hadsilenced the fort, was resuming its march on Lucknow. 

All this flashed through me as my senses gradually returned, and beforeeven I had time to contemplate my own condition. What a wreck I was! Ahelpless cripple past all healing, of no use to any one, and utterlyincapable of resuming the ordinary duties of life. But almost before Icould realise this, another care flashed through my mind and drove outevery other. 

My master! What of him? There he lay, motionless and pale, with hisblue eyes closed, and a little stream of blood trickling down his chest. Could he be dead?

Anxiously I listened if his heart still beat. At first all seemedsilent as death. Then there seemed a slight quiver, and as I listenedstill, a faint throb. He lived still! How I longed for help to come!

And before long it came. Two soldiers of Charlie's regiment came out ofthe fort and walked straight towards us. 

"It was close to the breach he dropped, " said one. 

"Come on, then, " said the other, "and we may be in time. "

They were not long in finding the object of their search, and leanteagerly over him. 

"He's dead, poor fellow!" said the first; "shot right through theheart!"

"So he is, " said the other. "It must have--wait a bit!" cried he, insudden excitement. "Feel here, Tom, quick! he's alive yet! Oh, if wecould only get hold of a doctor!"

"Is there one about at all?"

"Not that I know of, unless the Major knows what to do. "

Just then there came up a gaunt man, in an undress uniform, who, seeingthat they knelt over a wounded man, said, --

"Is he alive?"

"It's all he is, sir, " replied one of the men; "and we're wondering howto get a doctor to him. "

"Let me see, " said the stranger, approaching the body. 

He knelt beside it and gently removed the coat from the wound. 

"It looks as if he must be shot through the heart. Stay a bit, though, here's a watch!" and he pulled me softly out of the pocket. As he didso I looked up at him. Surely I knew his face! Surely somewhere I hadseen that troubled frightened face before! Then I remembered SeatownGaol! Could this be Tom Drift here in India, and kneeling beside hisold schoolfellow's body?

It was indeed Tom Drift! But he neither recognised me nor the woundedman before him; indeed he was too busy examining the latter's wound tolook very closely at his face. As he removed the waistcoat he utteredan exclamation of astonishment. 

"A most wonderful thing, " he said; "the bullet, which must have been aspent one, has struck his watch and turned aside. A most wonderfulescape!"

And then he produced a box of instruments, with one of which he probedthe wound, and after some trouble extracted the bullet. Then, bandagingup the place, he said, --

"He may do now, but he has lost a lot of blood. Let him lie here a bit, and presently, if he seems better, move him into the fort. I will seehim again this evening. "

And so saying, he passed on to the next prostrate figure. 

Towards evening the two men tenderly lifted their officer in their armsand carried him inside the fort, where a rude hospital had been fittedup. Here Charlie, who, after the extraction of the bullet andstaunching of blood, had shown symptoms of recovery, opened his eyes, and found himself able to say a few words to those round him. And whenthey told him how I had probably saved his life his face lit up with amost triumphant smile, and he asked that I might be put into his hand. 

As he lay there, scarcely strong enough to speak, and fondling me in hisfingers, the doctor entered the hospital. 

He came straight to Charlie's bed. My master's eyes were closed whenTom first reached his side; and I could see by the face of the latterthat he was still as far from recognising his old schoolfellow as ever. But directly Tom softly lifted the clothes in order to examine hiswound, the patient woke and opened his eyes. They rested for a momenton the doctor's face, and then, with a sudden flush and start, he halfraised himself in his bed, and exclaimed, --

"Tom Drift, is it you?"

The doctor thus unexpectedly hearing his own name pronounced, turnedpale, and started back as if he had been shot. The scared, terrifiedlook returned to his face, and for an instant he seemed as if he wouldrush from the place. But only for an instant. 

As he looked again on the face of his patient a strange expression cameover his own. Wonder, doubt, joy, succeeded each other in rapidsuccession, and then all of a sudden it flashed upon him who this was. 

"Charlie!" he exclaimed, trembling with astonishment; and next momentthe poor prodigal was on his knees beside his friend's bed, sobbing, with his head buried in his hands. 

Don't laugh at him, reader, for thus forgetting himself. Tom Drift hadbeen through many trials you know nothing about, and out of those trialshe had come broken in spirit and as humble as a child. _You_ might havehad more regard for appearances, perhaps, and controlled your emotiongenteelly; but, as I have said before, Tom Drift was not anything likeso strong-minded as you. So he knelt there and sobbed; and Charlie, ashe lay, took his hand into his own, and held it. 

Presently he said, softly, "Tom!"

Tom looked up and rose to his feet. 

"What, old fellow?"

"Look here, Tom!" said Charlie, showing me. 

At the sight of me, bruised and battered as I was, Tom's feelingsovercame him again. He seized me eagerly, and looked long and tenderlyinto my face; then his tears came again, and once more he sunk on hisknees at Charlie's side and buried his face in his hands. 

The place was getting dark. The noise of voices outside and the distantroar of guns slowly died away; the guards for the night were called out, and one by one soldier and invalid fell asleep after their hard day'stoil. But Tom Drift never moved from Charlie's bedside, nor didCharlie, by word or movement, disturb him. In the silence of that nightI seemed to be back in the past--when, years ago, I first knew thesetwo. The dreary hospital changed, in my imagination, into the oldRandlebury dormitory. 

These beds all round were occupied not by wounded soldiers, but bysoundly-sleeping boys, worn out with sports or study. And the twobetween whom I lay were no longer suffering men, but the light-heartedlads of long ago. I could almost fancy myself ticking through thesilent watches; and when now and then the fingers that held me closedover me, or fondled me tenderly, I could almost have believed I heardthe low sweet whistling of an innocent boy as he furtively turned in hiswaking moments to his father's precious gift. 

It all seemed so strangely natural that as I woke from my dream itrequired an effort to remember where I really was. All was silentaround me. I peered first at my master, then at Tom Drift; they wereboth asleep--sleeping, perhaps, as simply as ever they did in thosebygone days--Tom kneeling still by the bedside with his head upon hisarms, and Charlie turned towards him with one hand upon his friend's, and I--I lay between them. 

Thus the sultry Indian night passed, and then at the little windowopposite there came a faint gleam of light. 

Charlie woke first, and, laying his hand gently on Tom's arm, said, "TomDrift, old fellow!"

With a start and a bound Tom was awake and on his feet, staring in abewildered way round him. 

At last his eyes fell on Charlie, and he remembered where he was. "Iwas asleep and dreaming, " he said. 

"So was I, " said Charlie--and _I_ could almost guess what their dreamshad been. 

"Now, Tom, " said Charlie, "you must look to my wound. "

"My poor boy!" exclaimed Tom; "to think I have forgotten it all thistime!"

"It's not worth bothering about, after all, " said my master, "But see, Tom, the day is breaking. "

"Ay!" said Tom, looking down with a new light in his weary eyes, "theday _is_ breaking!"

CHAPTER TWENTY NINE. 

WHICH BRINGS MY ADVENTURES TO A CLOSE. 

Reader, be my companion in one scene more, and my story is done. 

A month or two ago there was a grand merrymaking at the house of oneCharles Newcome, Esquire, late captain in her Majesty's army, tocelebrate the tenth birthday of his son, Master Thomas James Newcome. The company was mostly juvenile, and included, of course, the gallantcaptain's two little girls and his younger son, that most terrible ofall Turks, Charlie the younger. Then there were all the little boys andgirls living in the square, and many others from a distance, and one ortwo big boys and girls, and one or two young gentlemen who stroked theirchins as if something was to be felt there, and one or two young ladieswho would not take twice of sponge-cake, for fear of looking as if theywere hungry. But besides these there were a few grown-up peoplepresent, whom I must not forget to name. Naturally the gallant captainwas one, and the gallant captain's lady was another; and then there werethe last-named lady's two brothers there, one a clergyman called theReverend James Halliday, and the other (and elder) Mr Joseph Halliday, a civil engineer with a ferocious pair of whiskers. And, to completethe party, there was present a grave, anxious-looking gentleman by thename of Mr Drift, a surgeon. 

These all sat apart and looked on while the young folk enjoyedthemselves. And how the young folk did enjoy themselves that night!What shouting and laughter there was, what a jingling of the piano, whathiding in corners, what romping on the stair case! And the round games, and the charades, and the family posts! Oh dear me, I'm an old watch, and I've gone through a good many noisy scenes, but I never remembersuch a racket as this. 

And how the young folk besieged the elder and compelled them to join inthe fun. There was papa down on his hands and knees with half-a-dozenyoungsters on his back. And there was Uncle Joseph performing tricks ofconjuring before a select audience; and Mr Drift telling stories toanother; and as for the reverend Uncle Jim, he was made blind man, andhad his long coat-tails pulled; and, strange to say, he never caughtanybody all the time. And then the supper! who shall describe that? theclattering of dishes, the rattle of knives and forks, the banging ofcrackers, the peals of laughter, and the cross-fire of chaff. 

Alas! all good things must come to an end, and so did this party. Oneby one the little guests said good-bye, and after they had gone thelittle family of children and elders was left alone. Though it was pasteleven, the little urchin Charlie insisted on clambering on to MrDrift's knee, to hear one last story, and the little girls besiegedtheir uncles, and put their arms round their necks, and besought theirintercession with mamma to gain them another half-hour's respite downstairs. 

"Charlie, " said Tom Drift, "this little fellow is worrying me for astory. Suppose you tell one. "

"Oh yes, " shouted that small chorus. "Oh yes! papa, please tell us astory?"

"Hear, hear!" said Uncle Joe. 

"Fire away, " said Uncle Jim. 

"Remember, it must be quite a short one, Charles, " said mamma. 

Charlie Newcome the elder looked puzzled for a minute, and fidgeteduncomfortably in his seat. 

Then he turned to his eldest boy, and said, --

"Tom, open that cabinet there and bring me the watch that is under theglass-case. "

"The old, ugly watch, papa?" asked the boy, running off on his errand. 

"Yes, the old, ugly watch, " said papa, with a queer sort of smile. 

The boy brought me. I was taken out of my case, and lay there in hisopen hand. 

"Once upon a time, " began papa--and what a hush fell on that littlecompany!--"once upon a time there was a little boy, "--why was iteveryone but the children looked so grave? and why did Mr Drift pushhis chair back into the shadow? why, even, did papa's voice tremble nowand then as he went on, and caught the eye first of one and then anotherof his listeners?

That night he told my story--not as I have told it to you. There wasnot much about Mr Drift in the story he told, and a great deal lessabout himself than there might have been. But as he went on thesechildren crowded round me and looked with awe upon my battered body, andread with reverence those quaintly-scratched initials, and as theyfollowed me in imagination from one master to another, and from oneperil to the next, ending up with the famous battle before Lucknow, theyforgot I was old and ugly, and I gradually appeared to their little eyesone of the greatest treasures which their father's house contained. 

"And here he lies in my hand, children, " concluded papa; "and if youlove him as much as I do you must be very fond of him. And now, good-night, all of you. "

THE END.