202
WYLDER'S HAJVD.
be it what it may, will be thoroughly exposed. Mystery
is the shadow of guilt; and, most assuredly, thought Mr.
Larkin, there is some infernal secret, well worth knowing,
at the bottom of all this. You little think I have you
here! and he slid Sir Julius Hockley's piece of banter
into his waistcoat pocket, and then opened and glanced at
half-a-dozen other letters, in a quick, official way, endors-
ing a little note on the back of each with his pencil.
"Paul's Eleven have challenged the Gipsies," said
Lake, languidly lifting his eyes from the paper. By-the-
by, are you anything of a cricketer? And they are to
play at Hockley, Sir Julius Hockley's ground. You know
Sir Julius, don't you?"
"Very slightly. I may say I have that honor, but we
have never been thrown together; a mere — a — the slight-
est thing in the world."
"Not schoolfellows — you are not an Eton, man, eh? ,:
Baid Lake.
"Oh no! My dear father would not send a boy of his
to what he called an idle school. But my acquaintance
with Sir Julius was a trifling matter. Hockley is a very
pretty place, is it not?"
"A sweet place. A great match was played between
those fellows at Brighton; Paul's Eleven beat fifteen of
the Ishmaelites, about a fortnight since; but they have
no chance with the Gipsies. It wi)l be a one-innings af-
fair."
"Have you ever seen Paul's Eleven play?" asked the
lawyer, carelessly taking up the newspaper which Lake had
laid down.
"I saw them play that match at Brighton, I mentioned
just now, a few days ago."
"Ah! did you?"
"Did not you know I was there?" said Lake in rath-