I can, sir, to find out about it; and if you want to
go up and down the river and examine the shore, I'll pull the boat for
you."

Mr. Presby accepted this offer, and Richard kept behind the boat house
till they had embarked. The roguish author of all these scientific
inquiries listened to the old gentleman's remarks on sleep-walking in
general, and the phenomena of his own case in particular, till the boat
disappeared in the cove above the pier. He then jumped into his skiff,
and pulled off to the Greyhound.

Ben had carefully removed all the stains of dirt and blood, and the
boat now bore no testimony against him. Whatever the boatman might have
thought, he certainly said nothing, and was even willing to countenance
Mr. Presby's theory in explanation of the absence of the boat, and of
her dirty appearance.

Though Richard had every reason to be satisfied with the success which
had attended his representation of the character of a somnambulist, he
could not banish the doubts and fears that haunted him. Some unlucky
mischance might betray him; "Old Batterbones" or Bates might tell the
story; Sandy might be entrapped into an exposure of the affair; indeed,
there were so many ways by which the secret might come out, that he was
far from satisfied with the prospect before him.

He was a high-spirited young man, and prided himself upon his healthy
body and well-developed muscle, and the idea of being pitied as a
person having an infirmity upon him was far from grateful to his
sensibilities. He did not much admire Mr. Presby's inquiring mind, and
thought he was an "old fool" to trouble himself about what did not
concern him. He did not care to be the subject of his meditations.
Being watched, pitied, and made the object of a physiological study,
were almost as bad as being caught in the act of stealing melons.

But above all considerations of his own safety or his own comfort was
the reflection that he had been whipped--unjustly and cruelly
whipped--by such a person as "Old Batterbones." All the bad boys hated
and despised him, and he felt that Woodville had been outraged in the
person of its male heir. These thoughts rankled in his soul, and he was
thirsting for revenge. He was determined to have satisfaction for the
injuries that had been heaped upon him. Already the dim outline of a
purpose whose execution would secure him ample vengeance was presented
to his mind.

While these dark thoughts were passing through hi