against any tendency to such relapse. After getting these
suspicions under my feet, I had been troubled by not being able to
like Brother Hawkyard's manner, or his professed religion. So it
came about, that, as I walked back that Sunday evening, I thought
it would be an act of reparation for any such injury my struggling
thoughts had unwillingly done him, if I wrote, and placed in his
hands, before going to college, a full acknowledgment of his
goodness to me, and an ample tribute of thanks. It might serve as
an implied vindication of him against any dark scandal from a rival
brother and expounder, or from any other quarter.

Accordingly, I wrote the document with much care. I may add with
much feeling too; for it affected me as I went on. Having no set
studies to pursue, in the brief interval between leaving the
Foundation and going to Cambridge, I determined to walk out to his
place of business, and give it into his own hands.

It was a winter afternoon, when I tapped at the door of his little
counting-house, which was at the farther end of his long, low shop.
As I did so (having entered by the back yard, where casks and boxes
were taken in, and where there was the inscription, 'Private way to
the counting-house'), a shopman called to me from the counter that
he was engaged.

'Brother Gimblet' (said the shopman, who was one of the
brotherhood) 'is with him.'

I thought this all the better for my purpose, and made bold to tap
again. They were talking in a low tone, and money was passing; for
I heard it being counted out.