But an ordeal awaited him. Early in the afternoon there arrived, from a
great town not far away, a well-dressed and high-complexioned man, whose
every look and accent declared commercial importance. This was Mr.
Chadwick, father of the boy who had all but been drowned. He and the
headmaster held private talk, and presently they sent for Humplebee. Merely
to enter the 'study' was at any time Humplebee's dread; to do so under the
present circumstances cost him anguish of spirit.

'Ha! here he is!' exclaimed Mr. Chadwick, in the voice of bluff geniality
which seemed to him appropriate. 'Humplebee, let me shake hands with you!
Humplebee, I am proud to make your acquaintance; prouder still to thank
you, to thank you, my boy!'

The lad was painfully overcome; his hands quivered, he stood like one
convicted of disgraceful behaviour.

'I think you have heard of me, Humplebee. Leonard has no doubt spoken to
you of his father. Perhaps my name has reached you in other ways?'

'Yes, sir,' faltered the boy.

'You mean that you know me as a public man?' urged Mr. Chadwick, whose eyes
glimmered a hungry vanity.

'Yes, sir,' whispered Humplebee.

'Ha! I see you already take an intelligent interest in things beyond
school. They tell me you are sixteen, Humplebee. Come, now; what are your
ideas about the future? I don't mean'--Mr. Chadwick rolled a laugh--'about