ighborhood. He asked nothing better than to
get out of it. But how?

This was all Tom wanted. He would see to that; nothing could be
easier.

"I shall go with you back to Englebourn this morning. I'll just
leave a note for Wurley to say that I'll be back some time in the
day to explain matters to him, and then we will be off at once.
We shall be at the rectory by breakfast time. Ah, I
forgot;--well, you can stop at David's while I go and speak to my
uncle and to Miss Winter."

Harry didn't seem to see what would be the good of this; and
David, he said, was not so friendly to him as he had been.

"Then you must wait at the Red Lion. Don't see the good of it!
Why, of course, the good of it is that you must be set right with
the Englebourn people--that's the first thing to do. I shall
explain how the case stands to my uncle, and I know that I can
get him to let you have your land again if you stay in the
parish, even if he can't give you work himself. But what he must
do is, to take you up, to show people that he is your friend,
Harry. Well then, if you can get good work--mind it must be real,
good, regular work--at Farmer Grove's, or one of the best
farmers, stop here by all means, and I will myself take the first
cottage which falls vacant and let you have it, and meantime you
must lodge with old David. Oh, I'll go and talk him round, never
fear. But if you can't get regular work here, why you go off with
flying colors; no sneaking off under a cloud and leaving no
address. You'll go off with me, as my servant, if you like. But
just as you please about that. At any rate, you'll go with me,
and I'll take care that it shall be known that I consider you as
an old friend. My father has always got plenty of work and will
take you on. And then, Harry, after a bit you may be sure all
will go right, and I shall be your best man, and dance at your
wedding before a year's out."

There is something in this kind of thing which is contagious and
irresistible. Tom thoroughly believed all that he was saying; and
faith, even of such a poor kind as believing in one's own
castles, has its reward. Common sense in vain suggested to Harry
that all the clouds which had been gathering round him for a year
were not likely to melt away in a morning. Prudence suggested
that the sooner he got away the better; which suggestion, indeed,
he handed on for what it was worth. But Tom treated prudence with
sublime contempt. They would go together