“I didn’t think of them, or I might not have dismissed him; but it is done now, and there the matter rests.”

And there Mr. Everton let it rest, so far as Ayres was concerned.  The individual obtained in his place had been, for some years, connected with the press as news collector and paragraph writer.  His name was Tompkins.  He was not a general favourite, and had never been very highly regarded by Mr. Everton; but he must have some one to fill the place made vacant by the removal of Ayres, and Tompkins was the most available person to be had.  There was a difference in the Journal after Tompkins took the place of assistant editor, and a very perceptible difference; it was not for the better.

About three months after Mr. Everton had dismissed Ayres from his establishment, a gentleman said to him,

“I am told that the young man who formerly assisted in your paper is in very destitute circumstances.”

“Ayres?”

“Yes.  That is his name.”

“I am sorry to hear it.  I wish him no ill; though he tried to do me all the harm he could.”

“I am sorry to hear that.  I always had a good opinion of him; and come, now, to see if I can’t interest you in his favour.”

Everton shook his head.

“I don’t wish to have any thing to do with him.”

“It pains me to hear you speak so.  What has he done to cause you to feel so unkindly towards him?”

“He attacked me in another newspaper, wantonly, at the very time he was employed in my office.”

“Indeed!”

“Yes, and in a way to do me a serious injury.”

“That is bad.  Where did the attack appear?”

“In the Gazette.”

“Did you trace it to him?”

“Yes; or, rather, it bore internal evidence that enabled me to fix it upon him unequivocally.”

“Did you charge it upon him?”

“No.  I wished to have no quarrel with him, although he evidently tried to get up one with me.  I settled the matter by notifying him to leave my employment.”

“You are certain that he wrote the article?”

“Oh, yes; positive.”

And yet the very pertinence of the question threw a doubt into the mind of Mr. Everton.

The gentleman with whom he was conversing on retiring went to the office of the Gazette, with the editor of which he was well acquainted.

“Do you remember,” said he, “an attack on Mr. Everton, which, some time ago, appeared in your paper?”

The editor reflected a few moments, and then replied: 

“A few months since, two or three articles were published in the Gazette that did refer to Everton in not a very kind manner.”

“Do you know the author?”

“Yes.”

“Have you any reasons for wishing to conceal his name?”

“None at all.  They were written by a young man who was then in my office, named Tompkins.”

“You are certain of this?”