He carried them off with alacrity. Mr. Galloway’s face cleared as he looked after him, and he made a remark aloud, expressive of his satisfaction. “There’s some pleasure in giving out work when you know it will be done. No play--no dilatoriness--finished to the minute that it’s looked for! You should take a leaf out of his book, Yorke.” “Yes, sir,” freely answered Roland. “When you drove Arthur Channing out of this office, you parted with the best clerk you ever had. Jenkins is all very well for work, but he is nothing but a muff in other things. Arthur’s a gentleman, and he’d have served you well. Jenkins himself says so. He is honourable, he is honest, he--” “I know enough of your sentiments with respect to his honesty,” interrupted Mr. Galloway. “We need not go over that tale again.” “I hope every one knows them,” rejoined Roland. “I have never concealed my opinion that the accusation was infamous; that, of all of us in this office, from its head down to Jenkins, none was less likely to finger the note than Arthur Channing. But of course my opinion goes for nothing.” “You are bold, young man.” “I fear it is my nature to be so,” cried Roland. “If it should ever turn up how the note went, you’ll be sorry, no doubt, for having visited it upon Arthur. Mr. Channing will be sorry; the precious magistrates will be sorry; that blessed dean, who wanted to turn him from the college, will be sorry. Not a soul of them but believes him guilty; and I hope they’ll be brought to repentance for it, in sackcloth and ashes.” “Go on with your work,” said Mr. Galloway, angrily. Roland made a show of obeying. But his tongue was like a steam-engine: once set going, it couldn’t readily be stopped, and he presently looked up again. “I am not uncharitable: at least, to individuals. I always said the post-office helped itself to the note, and I’d lay my last half-crown upon it. But there _are_ people in the town who think it could only have gone in another way. You’d go into a passion with me, sir, perhaps, if I mentioned it.” Mr. Galloway--it has been before mentioned that he possessed an unbounded amount of curiosity, and also a propensity to gossip--so far forgot the force of good example as to ask Roland what he meant. Roland wanted no further encouragement. “Well, sir, there are people who, weighing well all the probabilities of the case, have come to the conclusion that the note could only have been abstracted from the letter by the person to whom it was addressed. None but he broke the seal of it.” “Do you allude to my cousin, Mr. Robert Galloway?” ejaculated Mr. Galloway, as soon as indignation and breath allowed him to speak. “Others do,” said Roland. “I say it was the post-office.” “How dare you repeat so insolent a suspicion to my face, Roland Yorke?”