“Williams is taking it; he heard of Jenkins’s accident, and thought I might not be able to get away from the office twice today, so he attended himself.” “Come, that’s good-natured of Williams! A bargain’s a bargain, and, having made the bargain, of course it is your own look-out that you fulfil it. Yes, it was considerate of Williams.” “Considerate for himself,” laughed Arthur. “He did not come down to give me holiday, but in the fear that Mr. Galloway might prevent my attending. ‘A pretty thing it would have been,’ he said to me, ‘had there been no organist this afternoon; it might have cost me my post.’” “Moonshine!” said Hamish. “It might have cost him a word of reproof; nothing more.” “Helstonleigh’s dean is a strict one, remember. I told Williams he might always depend upon me.” “What should you have done, pray, had I not been here to turn office-keeper?” laughed Hamish. “Of the two duties I must have obeyed the more important one. I should have locked up the office and given the key to the housekeeper till college was over, or until Yorke returned. He deserves something for this move. Has any one called?” “No. Arthur, I have been making free with a sheet of paper and an envelope,” said Hamish, completing the note he was writing. “I suppose I am welcome to it?” “To ten, if you want them,” returned Arthur. “To whom are you writing?” “As if I should put you _au courant_ of my love-letters!” gaily answered Hamish. How could Hamish indulge in this careless gaiety with a sword hanging over his head? It was verily a puzzle to Arthur. A light, sunny nature was Hamish Channing’s. This sobering blow which had fallen on it had probably not come before it was needed. Had his bark been sailing for ever in smooth waters, he might have wasted his life, indolently basking on the calm, seductive waves. But the storm rose, the waves ran high, threatening to engulf him, and Hamish knew that his best energies must be put forth to surmount them. Never, never talk of troubles as great, unmitigated evils: to the God-fearing, the God-trusting, they are fraught with hidden love. “Hamish, were I threatened with worry, as you are, I could not be otherwise than oppressed and serious.” “Where would be the use of that?” cried gay Hamish. “Care killed a cat. Look here, Arthur, you and your grave face! Did you ever know care do a fellow good? I never did: but a great deal of harm. I shall manage to scramble out of the pit somehow. You’ll see.” He put the note into his pocket, as he spoke, and took up his hat to depart. “Stop an instant longer, Hamish. I have just met Hopper.” “He did not convert you into a writ-server, I hope. I don’t think it would be legal.” “There you are, joking again! Hamish, he has the writ, but he does not wish to serve it. You are to keep out of his way, he says, and he will not seek to put himself in yours. My father was kind to him in days gone by, and he remembers it now.”