o her brother with his answer. Richard was not angry,
as she feared he would be, and this was a very hopeful sign. But he
went over his argument against strait jackets, bell ropes, and drums
and fifes, once more, and then proposed that he should be put on
probation for one or two months; and if he did any thing wrong, he
would submit without a murmur.

Bertha went to Mr. Presby again, and was so far successful that the old
gentleman agreed to speak with Mr. Grant in the evening. He kept his
promise, but the father carried a stronger argument than the friend of
the family. Richard was doomed to go to the Military Institute, and the
fact was patent to him before he retired. He felt as though he wanted
to submit, but the unconquered enemy that had so often led him astray
was rebellious.

He did not sleep well that night. He was excited by the prospect before
him. His good resolutions seemed to be very shaky, and he found himself
running away from them. When he heard the clock strike twelve, he
actually jumped out of bed, under a sudden impulse, fully resolved to
run away and go to sea. He thought he would take the Greyhound, and
make his way down to the city and ship the next day. He put on a
portion of his clothes, under the influence of this impulse.

"This would be becoming a saint with a vengeance!" said he to himself,
as he threw off his clothes, and got into bed again. "I told Bertha I
would try to submit, and I will."

This was the first decided advantage which Richard had gained over his
great enemy; but the battle was a mere skirmish with the outposts of
the potent foe. It was a victory, however, and it strengthened him. It
improved the _morale_ of his fighting element.

He had resisted temptation, and angels ministered unto him. While they
ministered, peace came, and he fell asleep.

At an early hour in the morning he was called by his father. With the
assistance of Bertha he packed his trunk and prepared himself for the
journey. He was sad, but submissive. At nine o'clock, having bid adieu
to all his friends, and taken a sorrowful survey of Woodville, he and
his father were driven down to the railroad station.

Before night they reached Tunbrook, and Richard was introduced to the
terrible Colonel Brockridge. He was a little man of fifty, with great
bushy red whiskers, whose whole face seemed to be eclipsed by the
wonderful sharpness of his eyes. He shook hands with Richard, spoke to
him very kindly, and