pitied than feared,--for it stole
gradually into so soft and silvery a strain that, I verily believe,
it did it on purpose to comfort me!--me, its old friend, whom it had
unjustly suspected. Never did any music touch me so home as did that
long, plaintive cadence. And when the bird ceased, it perched itself
close to the bars of the cage, and looked at me steadily with its
bright, intelligent eyes. I felt mine water, and I turned back and stood
in the centre of the room, irresolute what to do, where to go. My father
had done with the proof, and was deep in his folios. Roland had
clasped his red account-book, restored it to his pocket, wiped his
pen carefully, and now watched me from under his great beetle-brows.
Suddenly he rose, and stamping on the hearth with his cork leg,
exclaimed, "Look up from those cursed books, brother Austin! What is
there in your son's face? Construe that, if you can!"

CHAPTER II.

And my father pushed aside his books and rose hastily. He took off his
spectacles and rubbed them mechanically, but he said nothing, and my
uncle, staring at him for a moment, in surprise at his silence, burst
out,--

"Oh! I see; he has been getting into some scrape, and you are angry.
Fie! young blood will have its way, Austin, it will. I don't blame that;
it is only when--Come here, Sisty. Zounds! man, come here."

My father gently brushed off the Captain's hand, and advancing towards
me, opened his arms. The next moment I was sobbing on his breast.

"But what is the matter?" cried Captain Roland. "Will nobody say what
is the matter? Money, I suppose, money, you confounded extravagant young
dog. Luckily you have got an uncle who has more than he knows what to
do with. How much? Fifty?--a hundred?--two hundred? How can I write the
check if you'll not speak?"

"Hush, brother! it is no money you can give that will set this right.
My poor boy! Have I guessed truly? Did I guess truly the other evening
when--"

"Yes, sir, yes! I have been so wretched. But I am better now,--I can
tell you all."

My uncle moved slowly towards the door; his fine sense of delicacy made
him think that even he was out of place in the confidence between son
and father.

"No, uncle," I said, holding out my hand to him, "stay. You too can
advise me,--strengthen me. I have kept my honor yet; help me to keep it
still."

At the sound of the word "honor," Captain Roland stood mute, and raised
his head quickly.

So I told all,--