monstration of
any kind, he rose from the ground, and moved off towards the scene of
the late encounter. As he passed the spot, he took his coat upon his
arm, and made his way to the Point.

The unhappy servant was troubled and mystified by this conduct; and he
was still more bewildered when he saw Archy step into the boat, and
heard him, in sharp tones, order the boatmen to pull home.

"Dar's Dandy. Isn't he gwine to go home wid us?" said Cyd, who was even
more mystified than the body-servant.

"No questions! Obey my orders, and pull for home," replied Archy, as he
adjusted his shirt sleeves and put on his coat.

When he had arranged his dress, he threw himself upon the velvet
cushions, and took no further notice of Dandy or the crew. His orders
were, of course, obeyed. The bow oarsman pushed off the boat, and she
was headed up the Crosscut. By this time, poor Dandy, who,
notwithstanding the obliquities of his master's disposition, had a
strong regard for him, reached the shore.

"I am very sorry for what has happened, Master Archy, and I hope you
will forgive me," said he, in humble tones.

The imperious young lord made no reply to this supplicating petition.

"Please to forgive me!" pleaded Dandy.

"Silence! Don't speak to me again till I give you permission to do so,"
was the only reply he vouchsafed.

Dandy knew his master well enough to obey, literally, the injunction
imposed upon him. Seating himself upon the ground, he watched the
receding boat, as the lusty oarsmen drove it rapidly through the water.
The events of the morning were calculated to induce earnest and serious
reflection. The consequences of the affair were yet to be developed, but
Dandy had no strong misgivings. Archy, he hoped and expected, would
recover his good nature in a few hours, at the most, and then he would
be forgiven, as he had been before.

It is true, he had never before given his master an angry blow; but he
had been grievously provoked, and he hoped this would prove a sufficient
excuse. Archy had lost his temper, sprung at him with the fury of a
tiger, and struck him several severe blows. His face was even now
covered with blood, and his nose ached from the flattening it had
received. He could not feel that he had done a very wicked deed. He had
only defended himself, which is the inborn right of man or boy when
unjustly assailed. He had been invited, nay, pressed, to strike the blow
which had caused the trouble.

Then