th by which his father and Jeffs came the previous day, till he
reached the lake with its sandy edge. Then he turned in among the
fir-trees in a dull, half-stupid way, but had not gone many yards,
before, utterly overcome by the misery he felt, he threw himself down,
hid his face in his hands, and lay there sobbing as if his heart would
break.

The poor Skipper did not know how time went: he could think of nothing
but that his father had gone away still angry with him, and without
bidding him good-bye; and he lay there, half stunned by his misery,
till a gruff voice exclaimed: "Hullo! Master Bob! why, here you are,
then. Bell's rung ever so long ago; they're looking for you everywhere,
and your Ma's in a orful way."

The Skipper started to his feet, but with his head averted from the
gardener, who was returning, after going home to his dinner; and
setting off running, he made for the house, where he hurried upstairs,
into his room, to bathe his swollen eyes.

Before he had finished, his mother was at the bed-room door, looking
wild and anxious, but, the sight of the boy's swollen eyes convinced
her, that he had only hidden himself away in the wood so that no one
should see his tears; she said nothing, but kissed him tenderly, and
waited till he was ready to go down.

All that afternoon the boy spent alone, thinking. When the bell rang
for tea he was thinking still, but Mrs. Trevor thought it better not to
interfere with him, and she only sighed, when she saw him take his hat
and go down the garden again, toward the belt of fir-trees by the big
pool. "He'll be better to-morrow, poor boy," she said to herself. "How
bravely he tries to master it all--how proud his father would be, if he
knew."

Poor Mrs. Trevor did not know the fresh grief in store for her, and the
anxiety she would have to suffer, for the Skipper had made his plans at
last; and that night was spent in horror and despair.

CHAPTER VI.

The Skipper looked quite two years older in the face, as he trudged
along through the wood as fast as he could walk, thinking of what he
was about to do, for it never once came into his young mind, that he
was going to add to the pain his mother was already feeling; and with
his mind quite made up, he went straight to the station, to find the
boy clerk behind, waggling the handle of the telegraph.

"When's the next train?" asked the Skipper.

"Where to?"

"Portsmouth," said the Skipper.

"Town or Harbo