d so the half went by and came to an end; and when the old Doctor
gave me my three prizes, and spoke of what he hoped I would do next
half, my blushes were not solely from modest pride.

The first step of our runaway travels had been decided upon long ago.
We were to go by barge to London. "And from London you can go
anywhere," Fred said.

The day after the holidays began I saw a canal-boat lading at the
wharf, and finding she was bound for London I told Fred of it. But he
said we had better wait for a barge, and that there would be one on
Thursday. "Or if you don't think you can be ready by then, we can wait
for the next," he added. He seemed quite willing to wait, but
(remembering that the captain's preparations for his longest voyage
had only taken him eighteen and a half minutes by the chronometer,
which was afterwards damaged in the diving-bell accident, and which I
had seen with my own eyes, in confirmation of the story) I said I
should be ready any time at half-an-hour's notice, and Thursday was
fixed as the day of our departure.

To facilitate matters it was decided that Fred should invite me to
spend Wednesday with him, and to stay all night, for the barge was to
start at half-past six o'clock on Thursday morning.

I was very busy on Wednesday. I wrote a letter to my mother in which I
hoped I made it quite clear that ambition and not discontent was
leading me to run away. I also made a will, dividing my things fairly
between Rupert, Henrietta, and Baby Cecil, in case I should be drowned
at sea. My knife, my prayer-book, the ball of string belonging to my
kite, and my little tool-box I took away with me. I also took the
match-box from the writing-table, but I told Mother of it in the
letter. The captain used to light his fires by rubbing sticks
together, but I had tried it, and thought matches would be much
better, at any rate to begin with.

Rupert was lying under the crab-tree, and Henrietta was reading to
him, when I went away. Rupert was getting much stronger; he could walk
with a stick, and was going back to school next half. I felt a very
unreasonable vexation because they seemed quite cheerful. But as I was
leaving the garden to go over the fields, Baby Cecil came running
after me, with his wooden spade in one hand and a plant of chick weed
in the other, crying: "Charlie, dear! Come and tell Baby Cecil a
story." I kissed him, and tied his hat on, which had come off as he
ran.

"Not now, Baby," I s