We shall never hear his flute agin!"



CHAPTER TEN.

INTO THE SWIFT WATERS.

"Oh!  I wouldn't have done that!"

Of course you would not.  No sane lad would ever be led away by his
imagination to be guilty of any folly whatever.  No one with a
well-balanced brain would, for a moment, ever dream of being guilty of
an act that would cause him repentance for years.  In other words, we
are all of us so thoroughly perfect that we go straight on through life,
laughing at temptations, triumphing over our weakness, and so manly and
confident in our own strength of mind that we continue our life's
journey, never slipping, never stumbling, but bounding along to its
highest point, where we pitch our caps in the air, flap our arms for
want of wings, stretch out our throats, open our beaks, and cry
"Cock-a-doodle-doo!" which, being translated from the gallinaceous
tongue into plain English, means--"Look at me!  Here I am!  Did you ever
see such a fine fellow in your life?  I don't believe there was ever my
equal born into the world!"

There was a comic philosopher born in the West, and his name was Artemus
Ward; and every now and then, after a verbal flourish of this kind, he
used to conclude by saying--

"This is wrote sarcastic."

So are these remarks concerning Richard Frayne's act, when, agonised by
the horror of his position, and rankling mentally at being believed
contemptible enough to have obtained the money, monkey-fashion, by using
his cousin as catspaw, he had gradually become so out of balance that he
was ready for any reckless act.

A few words from the proper quarter would have set him right; a kindly
bit or two of sympathy from his fellow-students would have helped him;
but everyone but the servant held rigidly aloof, and when the dark,
blank night-time came, and the long hours of agony culminated in a
feeling of utter, hopeless despair, he sat alone there in his room,
ready to dash at anything which would, even if temporarily, relieve him
from the terrible strain.

At last he forced himself into thinking as ca