“I’m rather surprised they didn’t try you for it,” said Gilks. “You’re well-known, you know, and used to the river.”
“Oh, I’d rather Riddell did it if he can,” said Wyndham. “I know he’s awfully anxious to get it up.”
The talk went on like this, and trenched on no uncomfortable topic. The only reference to anything of the sort was when Silk said, just as Wyndham was going, “Oh, Wyndham, I’ve told Gilks here that you’ve promised not to let out about Beamish’s—”
“Yes,” said Gilks, “I wouldn’t care for that to get about, young un.”
“Oh, of course I won’t say anything,” said Wyndham.
“Thanks, no more will we; will we, Silk?” replied Gilks.
Silk assented and their visitor departed.
“Young fool!” said Gilks, when he and his friend were left alone. “He’s not worth bothering about.”
“If it weren’t for the other prig I’d agree with you,” said Silk. “But don’t you think we can hit at his reverence occasionally through his disciple?”
“I dare say,” said Gilks. “The young prig had an innocent enough time of it to-night to suit even him. How he does talk!”