“Mr. Arthur Channing was not guilty, I am sure, sir; pray do not think him so,” resumed Jenkins, his eye lighting as he turned to Mr. Huntley. And Mr. Huntley smiled in response to the earnestness. _He_ believe Arthur Channing guilty! He left a message for Mr. Galloway, and quitted the office. Roland, who was very difficult to settle to work again, if once disturbed from it, strided himself across his stool, and tilted it backwards. “I’m uncommonly glad Carrick’s coming!” cried he. “Do you remember him, Jenkins?” “Who, sir?” “That uncle of mine. He was at Helstonleigh three years ago.” “I am not sure that I do, sir.” “What a sieve of a memory you must have! He is as tall as a house. We are not bad fellows for height, but Carrick beats us. He is not married, you know, and we look to him to square up many a corner. To do him justice, he never says No, when he has the cash, but he’s often out at elbows himself. It was he who bought George his commission and fitted him out; and I know my lady looks to him to find the funds Gerald will want to make him into a parson. I wonder what he’ll do for me?” Jenkins was about to answer, but was stopped by his cough. For some minutes it completely exhausted him; and Roland, for want of a hearer, was fain to bring the legs of his stool down again, and apply himself lazily to his work. At this very moment, which was not much past two o’clock in the day, Bywater had Charley Channing pinned against the palings underneath the elm trees. He had him all to himself. No other boys were within hearing; though many were within sight; for they were assembling in and round the cloisters after their dinner. “Now, Miss Charley, it’s the last time I’ll ask you, as true as that we are living here! You are as obstinate as a young mule. I’ll give you this one chance, and I’ll not give you another. I’d advise you to take it, if you have any regard for your skin.” “I don’t know anything, Bywater.” “You shuffling little turncoat! I don’t _know_ that there’s any fire in that kitchen chimney of the old dean’s, but I am morally certain that there is, because clouds of black smoke are coming out of it. And you know just as well who it was that played the trick to my surplice. I don’t ask you to blurt it out to the school, and I won’t bring your name up in it at all; I won’t act upon what you tell me. There!” “Bywater, I don’t know; and suspicion goes for nothing. Gaunt said it did not.” Bywater gave Charley a petulant shake. “I say that you know morally, Miss Channing. I protest that I heard you mention the word ‘surplice’ to Gerald Yorke, the day there was that row in the cloisters, when Roland Yorke gave Tod a thrashing and I tore the seat out of my pants. Gerald Yorke looked ready to kill you for it, too! Come, out with it. This is about the sixth time I have had you in trap, and you have only defied me.” “I don’t defy you, Bywater. I say that I will not tell. I would not if I knew. It is no business of mine.”