de him turn and walk slowly past the house again. With an
idea of giving fate another chance he repeated the performance. In all
he passed eight times, and was about to enter upon the ninth, when he
happened to look across the road and saw, to his annoyance, the small
figure of Bassett speeding toward him.

"He is not down yet, sir," said Bassett, respectfully.

Mr. Vyner suppressed his choler by an effort.

"Oh!" he said, stiffly. "Well?"

Bassett drew back in confusion. "I--I saw you walk up and down several
times looking at the house, sir, and I thought it my duty to come and
tell you," he replied.

Mr. Vyner regarded him steadfastly. "Thank you," he said, at last. "And
how is it that you are out at such an early hour, prowling about like a
raging lion looking for its breakfast?"

"I wasn't, sir," said Bassett; "I shall have my breakfast when I get
home, at eight o'clock. I always get up at six; then I make sure of two
hours in the fresh air."

"And what time do you close your eyes on the world and its vanities?"
inquired Mr. Vyner, with an appearance of great interest.

"I always go to bed as the clock strikes ten, sir," said the youth.

"And suppose--suppose the clock should be wrong one day?" suggested the
other, "would you apprehend any lasting injury to your constitution?"

"It couldn't be, sir," said Bassett; "I wind it myself."

Mr. Vyner regarded him more thoughtfully than before. "I can foresee,"
he said, slowly, "that you will grow up a great and good and wise man,
unless--"

"Yes, sir," said Bassett, anxiously.

"Unless somebody kills you in the meantime," concluded Mr. Vyner.
"It is not fair to tempt people beyond their strength, Bassett. Even a
verdict of 'Justifiable homicide' might not quite ease the slayer's
conscience."

"No, sir," said the perplexed youth.

Mr. Vyner suddenly dropped his bantering air.

"How was it I didn't see you?" he demanded, sternly.

"I don't think you looked my side of the road, sir," said Bassett. "You
were watching Mr. Hartley's windows all the time; and, besides, I was
behind that hedge."

He pointed to a well-trimmed privet hedge in a front garden opposite.

"Behind the hedge?" repeated the other, sharply. "What were you there
for?"

"Watching a snail, sir," replied Bassett.

"A _what?_" inquired Mr. Vyner, raising his voice.

"A snail, sir," repeated the youth. "I've got a book on natural
history, and I've just been reading about them. I saw t