“I kept on thinking and planning through the afternoon, sir, and then, presently, all was quiet, and only Mr. Falck with me in the shop, and I was just wondering how to get rid of him, when Mr. Horner opened the door of Mr. Boniface’s room and called to me. Then I said, ‘Do go, Mr. Falck, for I have an order to write to catch the post.’ And he went for me, and I hurried across to his counter while he was gone, and took the note out of his till and put it inside my boot; and when he came back he found me writing at my desk just as he had left me. He came up looking a little put out, as if Mr. Horner had rubbed him the wrong way, and he says to me, ‘It’s no use; you must go yourself, after all.’ So I went to Mr. Horner, leaving Mr. Falck alone in the shop.” “Were you not afraid lest he should open the till and find out that the note was gone?” “Yes, I was very much afraid. But all went well, and I intended to go out quickly at tea-time—it was close upon it then—and do what I could to get it straight again. I thought I could invent an excuse for not returning to the shop that night; say I’d been taken suddenly ill or something of that sort. It was Mr. Falck’s turn to go first; and while he was out, as ill-luck would have it, Mr. Horner came to take change from the till, and then all the row began. I made sure I was ruined, and no one was more surprised than myself at the turn that affairs took.” “But,” exclaimed Roy, “when you were once more out of debt, how was it that you did not confess, and do what you could to make up for your shameful conduct?” “Well, sir, I hadn’t the courage. Sometimes I thought I would; and then, again, I couldn’t make up my mind to; and I got to hate Mr. Falck, and I hated him more because he behaved well about it; and I got into the way of spiting him and making the place disagreeable to him; and I hoped that he would leave. But he stuck to his post through it all; and I began to think that it would be safer that I should leave, for I felt afraid of him somehow. So at Michaelmas I took this situation. And oh! sir, for my wife’s sake don’t ruin me; don’t expose all this to my employer!” “I promised you just now that you should not be exposed; but you must write a few words of confession to my father; and be quick about it, for I want to catch the express to London.” Darnell, who was still pale and agitated, seized pen and paper, and wrote a few words of apology and a clear confession. To write was hard, but he was in such terror lest his employers should return and discover his miserable secret that he dared not hesitate—dared not beat about the bush. Roy watched him with some curiosity, wondering now that he had not suspected the man sooner. But, as a matter of fact, Darnell had been perfectly self-possessed until his guilt was discovered; it was the exposure that filled him with shame and confusion, not the actual dishonesty.