hook mine warmly, and
walked away.

When they were gone, I remained for some little time quite stupified at
the events of the day. The reconciliation--the quarrel--the revenge. I
was still in thought when I heard the sound of a horse's hoofs. This
recalled me, and I was hauling up my boat, intending to go home to
Stapleton's; but with no great eagerness. I felt a sort of dislike to
Mary Stapleton, which I could not account for; but the fact was I had
been in company with Sarah Drummond. The horse stopped at the foot of
the bridge; and the rider giving it to his servant, who was mounted on
another, to hold, came down to where I was hauling up my boat. "My lad,
is it too late for you to launch your boat? I will pay you well."

"Where do you wish to go to, sir? It is now past ten o'clock."

"I know it is, and I hardly expected to find a waterman here; but I took
the chance. Will you take me about two miles up the river?"

I looked at the person who addressed me, and was delighted to recognise
in him the young man who had hired Mr Turnbull and me to take him to
the garden, and who had been captured when we escaped with the tin box;
but I did not make myself known. "Well, sir, if you wish it, I've no
objection," replied I, putting my shoulder to the bow of my wherry, and
launching her again into the water. At all events, this has been a day
of adventure, thought I, as I threw my sculls again into the water, and
commenced pulling up the stream. I was some little while in meditation
whether I should make myself known to the young man; but I decided that
I would not. Let me see, thought I, what sort of a person this is--
whether he is as deserving as the young lady appeared to consider.
"Which side, sir?" inquired I.

"The left," was the reply.

I knew that well enough, and I pulled in silence until nearly up to the
wall of the garden which ran down to the band of the river. "Now pull
in to that wall, and make no noise," was the injunction; which I obeyed,
securing the boat to the very part where the coping bricks had been
displaced. He stood up, and whistled the two bars of the tune as
before, waited five minutes, repeated it, and watched the windows of the
house; but there was no reply, or signs of anybody being up or stirring.
"It is too late; she is gone to rest."

"I thought there was a lady in the case, sir," observed I. "If you wish
to communicate with her, I think I could manage it."

"Could you