ool, and
that, for a well-meaning youth, was tribulation enough.

I took Redwood's advice and wrote the doctor's lines that evening,
trusting to a chance next forenoon of satisfying the demands of Mr
Jarman. To their credit be it said, some of the faggery helped me out
with my task, and as we all wrote in the same style of penmanship,
namely, a back-handed slope spread out very wide to cover as much ground
as possible, it was very difficult when all was done to believe that the
performance was a co-operative one.

Before going to bed I told Tempest of my adventure, and had the
satisfaction of receiving his complete sympathy.

"That's the worst of Redwood--he'll let it all slide. I wish I'd been
with you when it happened. There'd have been a row. There will some
day, too."

All which was very consoling to me and helped me to sleep soundly.

But the surprise of surprises happened next morning when I encountered
the captain's fag at the door before breakfast with a letter in his
hand.

"Here you are," said he, thrusting the document on me. "I don't see why
you can't come and fetch your own things instead of me having to run
after you."

"You can walk," said I, "I suppose."

I meant to be conciliatory, but he was highly offended and began to
kick, and it took some little time to pacify him and induce him to
return to the bosom of his house.

When he had gone, I opened the envelope with some little curiosity.
What was my astonishment when I found it enclosed one hundred lines
written out in a bold clear hand, which it was easy to guess was that of
the captain himself!

There was no letter or message; but the explanation was clear enough.
Redwood having got me into my row, had, like a gentleman, paid the
penalty; and as I realised this I could have kicked myself for the
unworthy thoughts I had indulged about him.

I only wished Jarman, to whom in due time I handed the precious
document, could have known its history.

He evidently gave me credit for being an excellent writer, and perhaps
for having an unusual acquaintance, for a boy of my age, with the works
of the Immortal Bard. For Redwood had grimly selected the following
passage to write out over and over again for the police-master's
benefit: "It is excellent to have a giant's strength; but it is
tyrannous to use it like a giant."

I fear the satire was lost on its victim, and that he meekly concluded I
had selected the passage because it happened