"
"No, no, it's about a young fellow. If you could take him back to
York to enlist--"
"My dear Herbert, I ain't a recruiting-sergeant."
"No, but it might be the saving of him," said Herbert, raising
himself and speaking with more animation. "It is Harry Hornblower."
"Why, that's the chap that bagged your athletic prizes! Whew!
Rather strong, ain't it, Joan!"
"He did no such thing," said Herbert, rather petulantly; "never
dreamt of it. He only was rather a fool in talking of them--
vaunting of me, I believe, as not such a bad fellow for a parson; so
his friends got out of him where to find them. But they knew better
than to take him with them. Tell him, Jenny; he won't believe me."
"It is quite true, Phil," said Jenny, "the poor fellow did get into
bad company at the races, but that was all. He did not come home
that night, but he was stupefied with drink and the beginning of the
fever, and it was proved--perfectly proved--that he was fast asleep
at a house at Backsworth when the robbery was committed, and he was
as much shocked about it as any one--more, I am sure, than Herbert,
who was so relieved on finding him clear of it, that he troubled
himself very little about the things.
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