was quickly sealed, when Louis began to
doubt:

"But we don't know what it is, Casson."

"If it turns out to be any thing, send it by post, directed to him,
at his father's," said Casson; "he'll get it safely enough."

The dinner-bell rang loudly at this moment, and with a little laugh
at the idea of the oddity of sending it to Hamilton's home, and a
strong feeling of doubt as to the wisdom of his proceeding, Louis
hastily exchanged the packets, and ran out of the room. On his way
to the dining-room he paused--

"If it should be of any consequence, Casson," he said.

"Well, if it is, so much the better fun; he won't treat you so shabbily
another time."

"Ah, but--I don't want to revenge myself, and I don't like playing
tricks on Hamilton exactly, either: I think I must give it back."

"I thought you were such a dab at these kinds of things," said Casson,
sneeringly.

"What have I done with it now?" Louis exclaimed suddenly, as they
reached the dining-room door, after stopping a few seconds in the
hall to hang up his coat. "What can I have done with it? I must have
slipped it into my desk just now, when I put my Livy in."

He was not able to turn back then; and, in the mean time, Hamilton
had paid a hasty visit to the class-room, to collect his things,
and had locked up carefully the false packet; and Louis had not
courage to make any inquiries, though he hoped that he might have
found the right one, which, with all his care, he could not discover
himself. Louis had, in his hurry, left Rollin on the study-table, and
after school he ran into the room, and finding it in nearly the same
place where Hamilton had been guarding it for him, he carried it off,
and Hamilton, seeing the action, made no remark on the matter.

The next evening, the Latin poems were sent in to the doctor's study
for comparison, and Hamilton's blank counterfeit was titled on the
cover, and dispatched with a degree of nervous anxiety that certainly
would not have been called forth by a subject so empty. Louis was
in an agony of remorse, when the truth burst on him. His only hope
was, that Hamilton might have found the right packet. He heard the
speculations around him as to the probability of success, and saw
the last paper put into Norman's hand to be carried away, but he
dared not say any thing. He had never dreamt of the importance of
the paper he had so carelessly dropped or mislaid, and would have
given all he possessed to have remem