both hastened to the station, leaving Arthur in wonder.
That was the very London editor himself. He had
been into the country, and was taking Helstonleigh
on his way back to town; had stayed in it a day or
two for the purpose of seeing Martin Pope, who was
an old friend, and of being introduced to Hamish
Channing. That shy feeling of reticence, which is the
characteristic of most persons whose genius is worth
anything, had induced Harnish to bury all this in
" But when have you found time to write" ex-
claimed Mr. Huntley, unable to get over his surprise.
"You could not find it during office hours."
" Certainly not. I have written in the evening, and
at night. I have been a great rake, stopping up
later than I ought, at this writing."
Do they know of it at home"
"Some of them know that I sit up; but they don't
know what I sit up for. By way of a blind-I suppose
it may be called a justifiable deceit," said Hamish gaily
- I have taken care to carry the office books into
my room, that their suspicions may be confined to the
accounts. Judy's keen eyes detected my candle burn-
ing later than she considered it ought to burn, and her
rest has been disturbed with visions of my setting the
house on fire. I have counselled her to keep the
water-butt full, under her window, so that she may be
safe from danger."
" And are you earning money now"
" In one sense, I am: I am writing for it. My
former papers were mostly disjointed ones; essays, and
that sort of thing; but I am about a longer work
now, to be paid for on completion. When it is finished
and appears, I shall startle them at home with the news,
and treat them to a sight of it. When all other
trades fail, sir, I can set up my tent as an author. "
Mr. Huntley's feelings glowed within him. None,
more than he, knew the value of silent industry-the
worth of those who patiently exercise it. His heart
went out to Hamish. " I suppose I must recommend you
to Bartlett's post, after all," said he, affecting to speak
carelessly, his eye betraying something very different.