120 THE CHERRY STONES.

“A trifle!” remarked Sharpe, who had
hitherto sat perfectly quiet; but keenly
observing what was passing; “a trifle,
you call it? You did not seem to con-
sider it a trifle just now, | think.”

Mertoun made no reply. Silence was
his best mode of escape from the awk-
ward dilemma into which his conscious-
ness of guilt had led him. Seymour
would have pursued the subject, but War-
beck entreated him to let it drop ; remind-
ing him that Dr. Young had ordered
them to be quiet, in order that Mertoun’s
repose might not be disturbed ; and hint-
ing, at the same time, that if the Doctor
should hear any noise, and come, in con-
sequence, up stalls; he would, probably,
select Seymour for punishment, because

he was out of his own room.

“With all. my heart, Charles,” said