"Yes," said John, mechanically, impatiently tearing open the letter.
"He's a good lawyer, the squire is," said the postmaster. "He was here only last week."
"Yes, I saw him."
This was the letter which John received:—
"My dear young Friend:—I called upon your stepmother yesterday in the afternoon, hoping to induce her to adopt different measures with regard to yourself. I regret to say that I failed utterly in my mission. She will not permit you to go to college, declaring that you have already a sufficient education. Nor will she remove you from the house of Mr. Huxter, though I represented that he was not a proper person to have the charge of you.
"We had some conversation about the missing will. I was a little surprised by her suggesting that I should search the house for it. I was glad of the opportunity, and proceeded to do so. I made the search as thorough as possible, but discovered nothing. I still believe, however, that the will is in existence, unless it has been destroyed since your father's death.
"I hardly know what to advise under the circumstances. If you should leave Mr. Huxter, I advise you to seek your aunt at Wilton, and I shall be glad to hear from you when you have arrived there. If you should need money, do not hesitate to apply to me, remembering that I am your father's friend."
"Your true friend,
James Selwyn."
"P. S. I enclose a few lines from Sam."
There was another sheet inside the envelope, on which John recognized easily Sam's familiar handwriting. He was very glad to hear from Sam, for whom he felt a warm attachment.
Here is Sam's letter:—
"Dear John:—I have been missing you awfully. I couldn't think what had become of you till father told me he had seen you at Milbank. So you are in the spider's clutches, you poor innocent fly? A nice time you must have of it with old Huxter. I declare I've no patience with Mrs. Oakley, when I think of the way she has treated you. I can't do anything to her; but I'll take it out in tricks on Ben. By the way, your amiable stepbrother has got a new friend,—a flashy young man from New York, who sports a lot of bogus jewelry, and smokes from ten to a dozen cigars a day, and spends his time in lounging about the billiard and bar room. He isn't doing Ben any good. They play billiards a good deal, and he tells Ben stories about the city, which I expect will make Ben want to go there. Do you think Mrs. Oakley will let him?
"You've no idea how I miss you, old fellow. All the hard parts in Virgil and Xenophon come to me now. I don't enjoy studying half so much now that you are away. If I were you, I'd give old Huxter the slip some fine morning. I only wish you could come and stay at our house. Wouldn't it be jolly? I know father would like it; but I suppose people would talk, and Mrs. Oakley would make a fuss.
"Well, it's time for me to go to studying. Keep up a stiff upper lip, and never say die. Things will be sure to come round. One thing, you must be sure to write to me as soon as you can. Tell me all about how you're getting along with the monstrum horrendum informe. Of course I mean old Huxter."
"Your affectionate friend,
Sam Selwyn."
John felt much better after reading these letters. He felt that, whatever might be the hardships of his present lot, he had two good friends who sympathized with him. He read over the lawyer's letter once more. Though he didn't expressly advise him to leave Mr. Huxter, it was evident that he expected him to do so. John himself had no doubts on that point. He felt that he would be willing anywhere else to work for his living; but to remain in his present position was insupportable. He could feel neither regard nor respect for Mr. Huxter. He witnessed daily with indignation the manner in which he treated his poor wife, whom he sincerely pitied. But it was not his business to interfere between man and wife. No, he could not stay any longer in such a house. To-morrow morning he would rise early, and, before Mr. Huxter woke, bid a silent farewell to Jackson, and start on his journey to Wilton.
When he reached his boarding-place, it was already four o'clock in the afternoon. Mr. Huxter had come home just drunk enough to be ugly. He had inquired of his wife where John was. She couldn't tell him.