There appeared to be a perfect exodus from The Home of the Muses, for Bracken also became conspicuous by his absence. He went to see his mother at Folkestone, who was a widow, as news came that her health was not what it might be. But the greatest surprise was when Bottles came to Hench on the morning of the exodus, dressed in his best clothes and smiling all over his freckled face. He was blushing also, which was a rare thing for the imp to do, and made a request which accounted for the same.
"Would you mind, sir--I mean, am I asking too much--that is, if you won't think it sauce on my part," he stumbled amongst his words and blushed deeper.
"Out with it, Bottles! What is it? Speak straight and to the point."
Jedd did so and very bluntly. "I want you to lend me five shillings, sir. Oh, I'll pay it back out of my wages at sixpence a week, see if I don't"--the boy went through a pantomine--"that wet; that dry; cut my throat if I tell a lie."
Hench, who had every reason to trust Bottles, and who considered him to be a lad with a future if clever wits went for anything, produced a couple of half-crowns from his slender resources. "There you are! You needn't pay me back."
"Oh, but I will, sir, thanking you all the same," said Bottles, pocketing the cash. "Mother's brought me up proper, she has, and always told me never to borrer. But I can't help borrering this time; it's business."
"What business?"
"Private," said the lad stiffly; "but the five bob shall be paid back, honest, Mr. Hench."
"Well, Bottles, I admire your principles and will accept the sixpence a week repayment. But why are you so excited and why this splendour of dress?"
"I'm going down the country to see my brother, sir."