out the sweat on my forehead, I do assure you.

'You're not the only man in that case, Mr Baker,' replied Reardon.

'It's thought a tough job in general, is it, sir?'

'It is indeed.'

'Two hundred marks for compersition,' continued the man. 'Now how many
would they have given me for this bit of a try, Mr Biffen?'

'Well, well; I can't exactly say. But you improve; you improve,
decidedly. Peg away for another week or two.'

'Oh, don't fear me, sir! I'm not easily beaten when I've set my mind on
a thing, and I'll break up the compersition yet, see if I don't!'

Again his fist descended upon the table in a way that reminded one of
the steam-hammer cracking a nut.

The lesson proceeded for about ten minutes, Reardon, under pretence of
reading, following it with as much amusement as anything could excite
in him nowadays. At length Mr Baker stood up, collected his papers and
books, and seemed about to depart; but, after certain uneasy movements
and glances, he said to Biffen in a subdued voice:

'Perhaps I might speak to you outside the door a minute, sir?'

He and the teacher went out, the door closed, and Reardon heard sounds
of muffled conversation. In a minute or two a heavy footstep descended
the stairs, and Biffen re-entered the room.

'Now that's a good, honest fellow,' he said, in an amused tone. 'It's
my pay-night, but he didn't like to fork out money before you. A very
unusual delicacy in a man of that standing. He pays me sixpence for an
hour's lesson; that brings me two shillings a week. I sometimes feel a
little ashamed to take his money, but then the fact is he's a good deal
better off than I am.'

'Will he get a place in the Customs, do you think?'

'Oh, I've no doubt of it. If it seemed unlikely, I should have told him
so before this. To be sure, that's a point I have often to consider,
and once or twice my delicacy has asserted itself at the expense of my
pocket. There was a poor consumptive lad came to me not long ago and
wanted Latin lessons; talked about going in for the London Matric., on
his way to the pulpit. I couldn't stand it. After a lesson or two I told
him his cough was too bad, and he had no right to study until he got
into better health; that was better, I think, than saying plainly he had
no chance on earth. But the food I bought with his money was choking me.
Oh yes, Baker will make his way right enough. A good, modest fellow.

You noticed how respectfully he spoke to me? It