hat I have here," he said.
Tom nodded.
"Well, there are some of the articles I should like to ask you
about, if you don't object."
"No; go on."
"Here is one, then, to begin with. I won't read it all. Let me
see; here is what I was looking for," and he began reading; "One
would think, to hear these landlords, our rulers, talk, that the
glorious green fields, the deep woods the everlasting hills, and
the rivers that run among them, were made for the sole purpose of
ministering to their greedy lusts and mean ambitions; that they
may roll out amongst unrealities their pitiful mock lives, from
their silk and lace cradles to their spangled coffins, studded
with silver knobs, and lying coats of arms, reaping where they
have not sown, and gathering where they have not strewed, making
the omer small and the ephah great, that they may sell the refuse
of the wheat--"
"That'll do, Jack; but what's the date of that paper?"
"July last. Is it yours, then?"
"Yes. And I allow it's too strong and one-sided. I have given up
writing altogether; will that satisfy you? I don't see my own way
clear enough yet. But, for all that, I'm not ashamed of what I
wrote in that paper."
"I have nothing more to say after that, except that I'm heartily
glad you have given up writing for the present."
"But I say, old fellow, how did you get these papers, and know
about my articles?"
"They were sent me. Shall I burn them now or would you like to
have them? We needn't say anything more about them."
"Burn them by all means. I suppose a friend sent them to you?"
"I suppose so." Hardy went on burning the papers in silence; and
as Tom watched him, a sudden light seemed to break upon him.
"I say, Jack," he said presently, "a little bird has been
whispering something to me about that friend." Hardy winched a
little, and redoubled his diligence in burning the papers. Tom
looked on smiling, and thinking how to go on, now that he had so
unexpectedly turned the tables on his monitor, when the clock
struck twelve.
"Hullo!" he said, getting up; "time for me to knock out, or old
Copas will be in bed. To go back to where we started from
to-night--as soon as East and Harry Winburn get back we shall
have some jolly doings at Englebourn. There'll be a wedding, I
hope, and you'll come over and do parson for us, won't you?"
"You mean for Patty? Of course I will."
"The little bird whispered to me that you wouldn't dislike
visiting that pa
|