CHAPTER TWENTY NINE.
HOW I BEGAN TO SEE DAYLIGHT THROUGH MY TROUBLES.
Those of my readers who have read their Virgil will most likely remember an observation made by one of the gentlemen who figure conspicuously in the story of the _Aeneid_.

He dreaded his hereditary enemies, the Greeks, under any circumstances; but he never dreaded them so much as when they came and offered him presents! This was pretty much my feeling when I was told that my debt to Wallop had been paid for me by Hawkesbury.
There had been a time in my life when I almost liked Hawkesbury.

More recently I had suspected him of being not quite the angel I once believed him.

Later still I had felt my suspicion grow to very decided dislike.

And now, at the moment when he made me his debtor for thirty shillings, I positively loathed him.
I could not guess his motive.