Leopold was not one of George's initiated, I need hardly say. "No," answered Bascombe. "I don't wonder. I can't blame you, for neither did I once. But just wait till you have made one, George!" "God forbid!" exclaimed Bascombe, a second time forgetting himself. "Amen!" said Leopold: "for after that there's no help but be one yourself, you know." "If he would only talk like that to old Hooker!" thought George. "It would go a long way to forestall any possible misconception of the case." "I can't think why Mr. Wingfold did not come yesterday," resumed Leopold. "I made sure he would." "Now, Poldie, you mustn't talk," said Helen, "or you'll be exhausted before we get to Mr. Hooker's." "She did not wish the non-appearance of the curate on Monday to be closely inquired into. His company at the magistrate's was by all possible means to be avoided. George had easily persuaded Helen, more easily than he expected, to wait their return in the carriage, and the two men were shown into the library, where the magistrate presently joined them. He would have shaken hands with Leopold as well as George, but the conscious felon drew back. "No, sir; excuse me," he said. "Hear what I have to tell you first; and if after that you will shake hands with me, it will be a kindness indeed. But you will not! you will not!" Worthy Mr. Hooker was overwhelmed with pity at sight of the worn sallow face with the great eyes, in which he found every appearance confirmatory of the tale wherewith Bascombe had filled and prejudiced every fibre of his judgment. He listened in the kindest way while the poor boy forced the words of his confession from his throat. But Leopold never dreamed of attributing his emotion to any other cause than compassion for one who had been betrayed into such a crime. It was against his will, for he seemed now bent, even to unreason, on fighting every weakness, that he was prevailed upon to take a little wine. Having ended, he sat silent, in the posture of one whose wrists are already clasped by the double bracelet of steel. Now Mr. Hooker had thought the thing out in church on the Sunday; and after a hard run at the tail of a strong fox over a rough country on the Monday, and a good sleep well into the morning of the Tuesday, could see no better way. His device was simple enough. "My dear young gentleman," he said, "I am very sorry for you, but I must do my duty." "That, sir, is what I came to you for," answered Leopold, humbly. "Then you must consider yourself my prisoner. The moment you, are gone, I shall make notes of your deposition, and proceed to arrange for the necessary formalities. As a mere matter of form, I shall take your own bail in a thousand pounds to surrender when called upon." "But I am not of age, and haven't got a thousand pounds," said Leopold. "Perhaps Mr. Hooker will accept my recognizance in the amount?" said Bascombe. "Certainly," answered Mr. Hooker, and wrote something, which Bascombe signed.