ing at his
memory, for there rose up in it certain doubts and troubles touching
Richard Hare and one Thorn. He laid his eager hand upon the other's arm.
"Ebenezer James, what did he call himself?"

"Thorn. A dandy, then, as he is now. He used to come galloping down the
Swainson road at dusk, tie his horse in the woods, and monopolize Miss
Afy."

"How do you know this?"

"Because I've seen it a dozen times. I was spooney after Afy myself in
those days, and went down there a good deal in an evening. If it hadn't
been for him, and--perhaps that murdering villain, Dick Hare, Afy would
have listened to me. Not that she cared for Dick; but, you see, they
were gentlemen. I am thankful to the stars, now, for my luck in escaping
her. With her for a wife, I should have been in a pickle always; as it
is, I do get out of it once in a while."

"Did you know then that he was Francis Levison?"

"Not I. He called himself Thorn, I tell you. When he came down to offer
himself for member, and oppose Carlyle, I was thunderstruck--like Bethel
was a minute ago. Ho ho, said I, so Thorn's defunct, and Levison has
risen."

"What had Otway Bethel to do with him?"

"Nothing--that I know of. Only Bethel was fond of the woods also--after
other game than Afy, though--and may have seen Thorn often. You saw that
he recognized him."

"Thorn--Levison, I mean--did not appear to like the recognition," said
Mr. Dill.

"Who would, in his position?" laughed Ebenezer James. "I don't like to
be reminded of many a wild scrape of my past life, in my poor station;
and what would it be for Levison, were it to come out that he once
called himself Thorn, and came running after Miss Afy Hallijohn?"

"Why did he call himself Thorn? Why disguise his own name?"

"Not knowing, can't say. _Is_ his name Levison, or is it Thorn?"

"Nonsense, Mr. Ebenezer!"

Mr. Dill, bursting with the strange news he had heard, endeavored to
force his way through the crowd, that he might communicate it to Mr.
Carlyle. The crowd was, however, too dense for him, and he had to wait
the opportunity of escaping with what patience he might. When it came he
made his way to the office, and entered Mr. Carlyle's private room. That
gentleman was seated at his desk, signing letters.

"Why, Dill, you are out of breath!"

"Well I may be! Mr. Archibald, I have been listening to the most
extraordinary statement. I have found out about Thorn. Who do you think
he is?"

Mr. Carlyle put