to walk
back, as the steamer does not stop this side of Boppard. Besides, I have
seen all that there is on the raft already, and there is no use in
staying on it any longer."

So he concluded to go at once to the boat, according to the arrangement
which he had made with the captain. He was afraid that he might have to
wait some time before the captain would see him; but he did not. The
captain saw him immediately, and sent a man to row him ashore. _Two_ men
came, in fact, the commissioner being one of them. But Rollo did not pay
any particular attention to this circumstance. He did not even observe
that it was the same man that had come on board with him. Rollo could
not talk to the oarsman on the way, but on landing he gave him a little
money,--about what he thought was proper,--and then went up into the
road with a view to go home. The commissioner, in order not to awaken
any suspicions in Rollo's mind that he was following him, turned away as
soon as he landed, and walked along the tow path down the stream.

Rollo went slowly home. He had not been more than half an hour on the
raft, and had not gone down the stream more than a mile; so that in
three quarters of an hour after he had left his uncle at the hotel he
found himself drawing near to it again, on his return.

He felt a little ashamed to get back so soon. So he thought that he
would not go in at once and report himself to his uncle, but would go
down on the bank of the river, and see if he could find a place to fish
a little while, until some little time should have elapsed, so as to
give to the period of his absence a tolerably respectable duration.
"Uncle George will laugh at me," said he to himself, "if he sees me come
home so soon."

So Rollo went down to the quay, and taking out his fishing line, he
began to make arrangements for fishing. He did not, however, feel quite
at his ease. There seemed to be something a little like artifice in thus
prolonging his absence in order to make his uncle think that he had gone
farther down the river than he had been. It was not being quite honest,
he thought.

"After all," said he to himself, "I'll go and tell uncle George now. I
shall have a better time fishing if I do. If he chooses to laugh at me,
he may. If he is going to do it, I should like to have it over."

So he went into the hotel, and advanced somewhat timidly to the door of
the room where he had left his uncle writing. He opened the door, and
looking