“It stopped his day’s pleasure,” laughed Hamish. “He was going along with his gun and dogs, intending to pop at the partridges, when he got popped upon himself, instead. Poor fellow! it was too bad to spoil his sport. Had I been a rich man, I should have felt inclined to bail him out.” “The effect of running in debt,” remarked Mr. Huntley. “By the way, Master Hamish, is there no fear of a similar catastrophe for you?” he added, in a tone which Hamish might, if he liked, take for a jesting one. “For me, sir?” returned Hamish. “When I left Helstonleigh in June, a certain young friend of mine was not quite free from a suspicion of such liabilities,” rejoined Mr. Huntley. Hamish flushed rosy red. Of all people in the world, Mr. Huntley was the one from whom he would, if possible, have kept that knowledge, but he spoke up readily. “I did owe a thing or two, it can’t be denied,” acknowledged he. “Men, better and wiser and richer than I, have owed money before me, Mr. Huntley.” “Suppose they serve you as they have served Jenner this morning?” “They will not do that,” laughed Hamish, seeming very much inclined to make a joke of the matter. “I have squared up some sufficiently to be on the safe side of danger, and I shall square up the rest.” Mr. Huntley fixed his eyes upon him. “How did you get the money to do it, Hamish?” Perhaps it was the plain, unvarnished manner in which the question was put; perhaps it was the intent gaze with which Mr. Huntley regarded him; but, certain it is, that the flush on Hamish’s face deepened to crimson, and he turned it from Mr. Huntley, saying nothing. “Hamish, I have a reason for wishing to know.” “To know what, sir?” asked Hamish, as if he would temporize, or avoid the question. “Where did you obtain the money that you applied to liquidate, or partially to liquidate, your debts?” “I cannot satisfy you, sir. The affair concerns no one but myself. I did get it, and that is sufficient.” Hamish had come out of his laughing tone, and spoke as firmly as Mr. Huntley; but, that the question had embarrassed him, was palpably evident. Mr. Huntley said good morning, and left the office without shaking hands. All his doubts were confirmed. He went straight home. Ellen was where he had left her, still alone. Mr. Huntley approached her and spoke abruptly. “Are you willing to give up all intimacy with Hamish Channing?” She gazed at him in surprise, her complexion changing, her voice faltering. “Oh, papa! what have they done?” “Ellen, did I say ‘they!’ The Channings are my dear friends, and I hope ever to call them such. They have done nothing unworthy of my friendship or of yours. I said Hamish.” Ellen rose from her seat, unable to subdue her emotion, and stood with her hands clasped before Mr. Huntley. Hamish was far dearer to her than the world knew.