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Then George went up to Mr. Ward, who was still piteously bathing his eye and forehead in the water. “I ask pardon for Hal’s violence, sir,” he said in great state. “You see, though we are very young, we are gentlemen, and cannot brook an insult from strangers. I should have submitted, as it was mamma’s desire; but I am glad she no longer entertains it.”

“And pray, sir, who is to compensate me?” says Mr. Ward; “who is to repair the insult done to me ?”

“We are very young,” says George, with another of his old-fashioned bows. “We shall be fifteen soon. Any compensation that is usual amongst gentlemen–“

“This, sir, to a minister of the Word!” bawls out Ward, starting up, and who knew perfectly well the lad’s skill in fence, having a score of times been foiled by the pair of them.

“You are not a clergyman yet. We thought you might like to be considered as a gentleman. We did not know.”

“A gentleman! I am a Christian, sir!” says Ward, glaring furiously, and clenching his great fists.

“Well, well, if you won’t fight, why don’t you forgive?” says Harry. “If you won’t forgive, why don’t you fight? That’s what I call the horns of a dilemma.” And he laughed his jolly laugh.

But this was nothing to the laugh a few days afterwards, when, the quarrel having been patched up along with poor Mr. Ward’s eye, the unlucky tutor was holding forth according to his custom, but in vain. The widow wept no more at his harangues, was no longer excited by his eloquence. Nay, she pleaded headache, and would absent herself of an evening, on which occasions the remainder of the little congregation were very cold indeed. One day Ward, still making desperate efforts to get back his despised authority, was preaching on the necessity of obeying our spiritual and temporal rulers. “For why, my dear friends,” he asked, “why are the governors appointed, but that we should be governed? Why are tutors engaged, but that children should be taught?” (Here a look at the boys.) “Why are rulers–” Here he paused, looking with a sad, puzzled face at the young gentlemen. He saw in their countenances the double meaning of the unlucky word he had uttered, and stammered and thumped the table with his fist. “Why, I say are rulers–rulers–“

” Rulers,” says George, looking at Harry.

“Rulers!” says Hal, putting his hand to his eye, where the poor tutor still bore marks of the late scuffle. “Rulers, o-ho!” It was too much. The boys burst out in an explosion of laughter. Mrs. Mountain, who was full of fun, could not help joining in the chorus; and little Fanny Mountain, who had always behaved very demurely and silently at these ceremonies, crowed again, and clapped her little hands at the others laughing, not in the least knowing the reason why.

This could not be borne. Ward shut down the book before him; in a few angry but eloquent and manly words said he would speak no more in that place; and left Castlewood not in the least regretted by Madame Esmond, who had doted on him three months before.

After the departure of her unfortunate spiritual adviser and chaplain, Madame Esmond and her son seemed to be quite reconciled: but although George never spoke of the quarrel with his mother, it must have weighed upon the boy’s mind very painfully, for he had a fever soon after the last recounted domestic occurrences, during which illness his brain once or twice wandered, when he shrieked out, “Broken! Broken! It never, never, can be mended!” to the silent terror of his mother, who sat watching the poor child as he tossed wakeful upon his midnight bed. That night, and for some days afterwards, it seemed very likely that poor Harry would become heir of Castlewood; but by Mr. Dempster’s skilful treatment the fever was got over, the intermittent attacks diminished in intensity, and George was restored almost to health again. A change of air, a voyage even to England, was recommended, but the widow had quarrelled with her children’s relatives there, which made that trip impossible. A journey to the north and east was determined upon, and the two young gentleman, with Mr. Dempster reinstated as their tutor, and a couple of servants to attend them, took a voyage to New York, and thence up the beautiful Hudson River to Albany, where they were received by the first gentry of the province; and thence into the French provinces, where they were hospitably entertained by the French gentry. Harry camped with the Indians and took furs and shot bears. George, who never cared for field sports, and whose health was still delicate, was a special favourite with the French ladies, who were accustomed to see very few young English gentlemen speaking the French language so readily as our young gentleman. He danced the minuet elegantly. He learned the latest imported French catches and songs and played them beautifully on his violin; and to the envy of poor Harry, who was absent on a bear-hunt, he even had an affair of honour with a young ensign, whom he pinked on the shoulder, and with whom he afterwards swore an eternal friendship.