s
before he was sure of his road.

But he was taking the right course, and, feeling more himself, less
morbid and nervous, refreshed as he was by the exercise, interest, and
pure fresh air, he reached the gate at the end of the drive, passed on
up into the grounds and, during the latter part of his return journey,
was guided by the light in the porch and in the dining-room window.

"It was all so easy," he said to himself, "and I could do it again at
any time. But no; I won't. I won't give way to those feelings. It's
ungenerous to Waller, and he is such a good fellow. I am sure he likes
me, and I want to be grateful and like him too. If he found me out I
should lose his respect and confidence."

These were the lad's last thoughts in this direction, for he had reached
the lawn, over which he passed lightly, and began feeling about for the
rope.

Then his heart seemed to stand still, and a choking feeling assailed
him, for the rope was gone--only for a few moments, for as he roused
himself to action, and mastered his feeling of dismay, he awoke to the
fact that he was feeling beneath the wrong window. Then a few yards to
his right his searching hand came in contact with the firm twisted cord,
which he grasped with both hands as high up as he could reach, drew up
his legs to get the rope twisted round, and then began to--climb? No--
gently swing to and fro. It was a very pleasant motion as he brushed
against the shrubs and once bumped up against the sill of one of the
lower windows, but it was not what he wanted.

For the first time in his life he was realising that, though it is very
easy to slide down a rope, it is quite a gymnastic feat, only to be
mastered by long practice, to climb up a cord that is comparatively
slight.

"Oh, why didn't I remember to make a knot at every foot?" thought the
lad, as he severely abused himself for his folly and ignorance during
the intervals of struggling hard to get, if only a few feet up, towards
the window, but toiling in vain and only growing hotter and more
exhausted in spite of all.

He rested for a while, and once more tried, rested, and tried again, and
at last, utterly fagged out, he gave up in despair.

He was so wearied out that, still holding by the rope, he sank upon his
knees amongst the shrubs that dotted the broad bed beneath the windows,
and even when his breath was coming easily once more, and the hot
burning pain in his chest had subsided, the spirit