'Anything compromising in that association, Buckland?'
'I don't say that—though the fellows I speak of are hot Radicals.'
'Though?'
'I mean,' replied the young man, with his shrewder smile, 'that they are not exactly the companions a theological student would select.'
'I understand. Possibly he has journalised a little himself?'
'That I can't say, though I should have thought it likely enough. I might, of course, find out much more about him, but it seemed to me that to have assurance of his truthfulness in that one respect was enough for the present.'
'Do you mean, Buckland,' asked his father, gravely, 'that you have been setting secret police at work?'
'Well, yes. I thought it the least objectionable way of getting information.'
Martin compressed his lips and looked disapproval.
'I really can't see that such extreme measures were demanded. Come, come; what is all this about? Do you suspect him of planning burglaries? That was an ill-judged step, Buckland; decidedly ill-judged. I said just now that Peak impressed me by no means disagreeably. Now I will add that I am convinced of his good faith—as sure of it as I am of his remarkable talents and aptitude for the profession he aims at. In spite of your extraordinary distrust, I can't feel a moment's doubt of his honour. Why, I could have told you myself that he has known Radical journalists. He mentioned it the other day, and explained how far his sympathy went with that kind of thing. No, no; that was hardly permissible, Buckland.'