so--if I were to go and
tell the Doctor about it, only about myself, you know, he might perhaps
not expel me."

"Well?" said Gilks.

"Well," said Wyndham, "of course I couldn't do it after promising you
and Silk. But I thought if I promised not to say anything about you and
make out that it was all my fault, you wouldn't mind my telling Paddy."

Gilks looked at the boy in perplexity. This was a code of morality
decidedly beyond him, and for a moment he looked as if he half doubted
whether it was not a jest.

"What on earth do you mean, you young muff?" he exclaimed. "I mean, may
I go and tell him that I went those two times to Beamish's? I promise
to say nothing about you." Gilks laughed once more.

"What do I care what you go and tell him?" he said. "If you want to get
expelled as badly as all that I don't want to prevent you, I'm sure."

"Then I really may?" exclaimed poor Wyndham, scarcely believing his own
ears.

"Of course, if you keep me out of it, what on earth do I care what you
tell him? You may tell him you murdered somebody there for all I care."

"Oh, thanks, thanks," cried Wyndham with a positively beaming face. "I
give you my word I won't even mention you or Silk."

"As long as you don't mention me, that's all _I_ care for," said Gilks;
"and upon my word," added he, with a sigh half to himself, "I don't much
care whether you do or not!"

Wyndham was too delighted and relieved to pay any heed to this last
dreary remark, and gratefully took his leave, feeling that though the
battle was anything but won yet he was at least a good deal nearer hope
than he had been an hour ago.

But he very soon checked the reviving flow of his spirits as the
prospect of an interview with Silk began to loom out ahead.

He had not seen Silk since the evening of the Rockshire match, when, as
the reader will remember the meeting was anything but a pleasant one,
and, but for the timely arrival of a third party, might have ended
severely for the younger boy.

The recollection of this did not certainly add to the hopefulness of his
present undertaking; but young Wyndham was a boy of such a sanguine
temper, and such elastic spirits, that he could not help hoping
something would turn up in his favour even now. He had got on far
better than he had dared to hope with Gilks, why not also with Silk?

Besides, when all was said, it was his only chance, and therefore,
whether he hoped anything or nothing, he must tr