ed on military principles, it was not
peculiarly the school of the soldier. The principal believed in
discipline; this was his hobby; and he believed that he could best
secure system and order by adopting military routine. His success
justified his theory. He had more applicants than he had places.

Richard knew all about the Tunbrook Military Institute. He had
carefully read its circular, and its rules and regulations. They did
not suit him. He was not a devotee of discipline, in its application to
himself. He was very impatient of restraint, as the reader has already
seen, and he did not like the idea of being sent to this Institute.

When his father had given him his final sentence, he retired to his
chamber. The shame which attended the discovery of his guilt still
rested heavily upon him, and he was in a more humble and tractable mood
than usual. Under ordinary circumstances he would have rebelled against
the decision of his father. He would have frightened his sister by
threatening to run away to sea. It is true, this thought occurred to
him on the present occasion; but Ben had told him enough about the life
of a sailor to convince him that he should not improve his condition by
such a course.

There seemed to be no alternative but passive obedience. He did not
want to go, but he felt that his father must certainly conquer if he
attempted to resist. He had always had his own way to a very great
extent. He had always been a conqueror himself--at least he felt so,
and he could not endure the thought of being compelled to yield
implicit obedience to any person.

At this time Richard's thoughts took a peculiar turn. The shame he
endured, the reproaches that had been heaped upon him, caused him to
feel that there was something wanting in his character. The path in
which he had been travelling, for the first time in his life seemed to
lead to destruction. When he considered that he had been detected in
the act of stealing, and of setting fire to a barn, and in practising a
gross and wicked deception, he felt that his road was down hill; that
he should become a dissolute and worthless man.

He was sitting on the stool of repentance. From a prudential penitence
he had arrived at a genuine one. Something must be done. There was
something to be conquered. There was a harder battle before him than
any he had yet fought. He was master of the boats, of the horses, of
the servants, and even of his companions at Whitestone;