man as well as they could
in a temperature of 35 deg. Fahrenheit, and in an atmosphere surcharged with
smoke from a flue that refused to draw--when the door communicating with
the chief draughtsman's room opened and the head of Mr Richards, the
occupant of that apartment, protruded through the aperture. At the
sound of the opening door the draughtsmen, who were acquainted with Mr
Richards's ways, glanced up with one accord from their work, and the eye
of one of them was promptly caught by Mr Richards, who, raising a
beckoning finger, remarked:

"Escombe, I want you," and immediately retired.

Thereupon Escombe, the individual addressed, carefully wiped his drawing
pen upon a duster, methodically laid the instrument in its proper place
in the instrument case, closed the latter, and, descending from his high
stool, made his way into the chief draughtsman's room, closing the door
behind him. He did this with some little trepidation; for these private
interviews with his chief were more often than not of a distinctly
unpleasant character, having reference to some stupid blunder in a
calculation, some oversight in the preparation of a drawing, or
something of a similar nature calling for sharp rebuke; and as the lad--
he was but seventeen--accomplished the short journey from one room to
the other he rapidly reviewed his most recent work, and endeavoured to
decide in which job he was most likely to have made a mistake. But
before he could arrive at a decision on this point he was in the
presence of Mr Richards, and a single glance at the chief draughtsman's
face--now that it could be seen clearly and unveiled by a pall of
smoke--sufficed to assure Harry Escombe that in this case at least he
had nothing in the nature of censure to fear. For Mr Richards's face
was beaming with satisfaction, and a large atlas lay open upon the desk
at which he stood.

"Sit down, Escombe," remarked the dreaded potentate as he pointed to a
chair.

Escombe seated himself; and then ensued a silence of a full minute's
duration. The potentate seemed to be meditating how to begin. At
length--

"How long have you been with us, Escombe?" he enquired, hoisting himself
onto a stool as he put the question.

"A little over two years," answered Escombe. "I signed my articles with
Sir Philip on the first of September the year before last, and came on
duty the next day."

"Two years!" ejaculated Mr Richards. "I did not think it had been so
lon