Huntley, "for it is a
thing that we must hush up, as the family are hushing it up. When that
bank-note was lost, suspicion fell on Arthur."
"Well, papa?" wonderingly resumed Ellen.
"It was not Arthur who took it. It was Hamish. And Arthur is bearing
the stigma of it for his father's sake."
Ellen grew pale. "Papa, who says it?"
"No one _says_ it, Ellen. But the facts leave no room for doubt.
Hamish's own manner--I have just left him--leaves no room for it. He is
indisputably guilty."
Then Ellen's anger, her _straightforwardness_, broke forth. She clasped
her hands in pain, and her face grew crimson. "He is _not_ guilty,
papa. I would answer for it with my own life. How dare they accuse him!
how dare they asperse him? Is he not Hamish Channing?"
"Ellen! _Ellen_!"
Ellen burst into a passionate flood of tears. "Forgive me, papa. If he
has no one else to take his part, I will do it. I do not wish to be
undutiful; and if you bid me never to see or speak to Hamish Channing
again, I will implicitly obey you; but, hear him spoken of as guilty, I
will not. I wish I could stand up for him against the world."
"After that, Miss Ellen Huntley, I think you had better sit down."
Ellen sat down, and cried until she was calm.
CHAPTER XXXVII.
THE CONSPIRATORS.
Nothing of sufficient consequence to record here, occurred for some
weeks to the Channings, or to those connected with them.
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