of crossing it in the face of an enemy; and if matters
go on, who can say but that I may find myself, some day, arrested
on the charge of surreptitiously entering the Tower of London, or
effecting an escalade of the keep of Windsor Castle! To avoid such
a misfortune--which would entail a total cessation of my stories,
for a term of years--I have turned to a new subject, which I can
only hope that you will find as interesting, if not as instructive,
as the other books which I have written.

G. A. Henty.

Chapter 1: The Broken Window.

"You are the most troublesome boy in the village, Reuben Whitney,
and you will come to a bad end."

The words followed a shower of cuts with the cane. The speaker was
an elderly man, the master of the village school of Tipping, near
Lewes, in Sussex; and the words were elicited, in no small degree,
by the vexation of the speaker at his inability to wring a cry from
the boy whom he was striking. He was a lad of some thirteen years
of age, with a face naturally bright and intelligent; but at
present quivering with anger.

"I don't care if I do," he said defiantly. "It won't be my fault,
but yours, and the rest of them."

"You ought to be ashamed of yourself," the master said, "instead of
speaking in that way. You, who learn easier than anyone here, and
could always be at the top of your class, if you chose. I had hoped
better things of you, Reuben; but it's just the way, it's your
bright boys as mostly gets into mischief."

At this moment the door of the school room opened, and a lady with
two girls, one of about fourteen and the other eleven years of age,
entered.

"What is the matter now?" the lady asked, seeing the schoolmaster,
cane in hand, and the boy standing before him.

"Reuben Whitney! What, in trouble again, Reuben? I am afraid you
are a very troublesome boy."

"I am not troublesome, ma'm," the boy said sturdily. "That is, I
wouldn't be if they would let me alone; but everything that is done
bad, they put it down to me."

"But what have you been doing now, Reuben?"

"I have done nothing at all, ma'm; but he's always down on me," and
he pointed to the master, "and when they are always down on a
fellow, it's no use his trying to do right."

"What has the boy been doing now, Mr. White?" the lady asked.

"Look there, ma'm, at those four windows all smashed, and the
squire had all the broken panes mended only a fortnight ago."

"How was it done, Mr. White?"