h
lonely, I suppose, that he talked to me, but he kept aloof from the
others, and they all said pride would have a fall, and so would not come
near him in his trouble. My aunt and he had quarrelled, but she would
gladly help him for all that if he would only accept of it, but his
pride sticks in the way. I knew he was away, or I would not have brought
this with me; however, you can say you brought it.'

'I can never tell an untruth, Edward, but you can leave it, perhaps he
will ask no questions.'

'I'm not quite sure of that, Mary; but I've played him one trick this
morning for his own good, and if you won't help me to play another, e'en
let it alone--all have their weak side,--that abstract idea of truth you
worship, Mary, is yours.'

'And do you not love the truth too, Edward?'

'I never tell a wilful lie, Mary, you know. I'd scorn it, and I never
break my word,--but still, look at truth's reward,--here! the home of an
honest man, and there!' he pointed towards the castle. 'Ah! forgive me,
Mary, stupid dolt, that I am.'

'You have not hurt me, Edward, but must never think honesty and truth
has no reward even on earth; a good conscience is a blessing none can
take away from us, and there is hope in Heaven.'

'There had need be, Mary,--I won't contradict you, though I don't know
much about it. The Bible says so, and I suppose it's true: but poor
Johnson, I'm thinking will be more glad of the five pounds I tricked him
into accepting this morning than a dozen good consciences.'

'How was that done, Edward?'

'Why, my aunt wanted to help him, but did not know how,--but I was up at
grey dawn this morning, and saw him pass in the direction of Elverton. I
knew he was gone on a fool's errand to appeal to an old friend; he had,
it seems, bowed his proud heart to that. True, he had saved this man's
life: more, he had saved him from dishonor and disgrace, but I felt none
the less certain he would get no aid there. So I took L5 from Aunt
Ally's cash-box, and putting them inside a blank letter, I directed it
in a feigned hand, only adding the words, "from one who sympathises with
learning and ability in distress," for he's proud of his learning, and
rode like mad over the hills to get there before him; there I watched
for him, and got a footmail to give him the letter, and came back as
fast as I went.'

'Now, God bless you for it, Edward, you are a wild boy, but you have a
good heart.'

'Boy! Man, you mean, Mary. I'm e