nd depth of his mother's feelings when she had uttered them, and how
bitterly did he regret his act of disobedience! The dreadful event had
come to intensify the anguish of his penitence, and he felt that, if he
had not done wrong, he could have met the calamity with patience and
resolution. When children do wrong, they know not what event may occur
to increase a thousand fold the bitterness of their remorse.

"Do you think my father is alive now?" sobbed Paul.

"I hope so; but it is impossible to foretell the result. The doctors
spoke very despondingly of his case; but we must hope for the best."

"How does my mother bear it?"

"As well as could be expected, considering the suddenness of the
calamity."

"O, it will kill her," groaned Paul.

"I hope not; you must be calm, my boy. It is dreadful, I know; but we
must not add to the pain of the sufferer by useless lamentation."

"I will be as calm as I can, sir; but it is awful to have such a thing
happen just now."

"We know not what a day or an hour may bring forth, Paul."

"Yes, but to have it happen now. If it had been at any other time, I
could have borne it better," continued the penitent boy, wiping away the
tears that blinded him.

"We cannot choose the time for such an event to happen."

"If it had only come before I left home! O, dear."

"Be calm, Paul; we could not select a time when we should be prepared
for such a calamity. You must not suppose one time is better than
another for trials and sorrows."

"You do not understand me, Captain Littleton," replied Paul, earnestly.
"I disobeyed my mother in going out in the boat. She told me to come
ashore, and stood on the beach beckoning and calling to me not to go,
but I didn't mind her. That's what makes me feel so bad about it."

"I am sorry you disobeyed her, for you must suffer the more for your
disobedience."

"I was sorry I did so before I came ashore, and now I would give all the
world if I had minded mother, and let Tom Nettle laugh at me as much as
he pleased."

"Tom is a wild boy, and you must not heed his jeers."

"I will not, another time. You think my father is not dead?"

"I think not," replied Captain Littleton, as he increased the speed of
the horse.

Paul did not say much more, but wept in silence as the chaise dashed
along the road. Every moment seemed like an hour, till he came in sight
of the cottage of his father. There were the two sulkies of the doctors,
and a crowd of p