"Not exactly, Perkins, considering I am due at ten o'clock, and therefore have only five minutes to stay. I just dropped in to ask you about something on which you can perhaps advise us."

"Fire away, Master Norris; anything I can do for you you knows as I will."

"I was thinking, Perkins, that it would be a great lark to go up to one of those halls where those Chartist fellows meet, and to hear their speeches."

"I don't see that there would be any lark in it," Perkins replied, "unless you meant getting up a row."

"I don't know that I exactly meant to get up a row; but if there was a row, so much the more lark."

"Well, sir, if I might give my advice, I don't think, if I was you, I would do it in school-time. Your hands can guard your face pretty tidy, I grant you, but the chances is as you would not get out of such a row as that would be without being marked. I knows of a place over the other side of the water, not far from the New Cut, where they meet. Bill Lowe, him as comes here to spar twice a week, yer know, he goes there; he takes up with them Chartist notions, which I don't hold with no ways. I don't see nothing in them seven pints as would do anything for the ring; and that being so, let it alone, says I. However, Master Norris, since you have a fancy that way I will talk the matter over with him, and then if you really makes up your mind you would like to go, I will get four or five of my lads as can use their mawleys, and we will go in a body.

"Then if there should be a row, I reckon we can fight our way out. There ain't much in them chaps, tailors and shoemakers, and the like; they are always great hands for jaw, them tailors and shoemakers, but I never seed one as I would put five pound on in a twelve-foot ring. Poor undersized creatures, for the most part, but beggars for jaw; but there are some rough uns with 'em, and yer might get badly marked before yer got out."

But Frank's mind was now bent upon it.

"It will be a lark, Perkins, anyhow; things have been rather slow at School lately, and three or four of us have set our minds on it. So if you let me know what evening will suit you, we will be here."

Four evenings later Frank Norris, with the other three boys, slipped out after prayers were over, and started on their expedition. Frank's fag closed the door noiselessly behind them and rebolted it; he had strict orders to take his place at an upper window at eleven o'clock and watch for their return. If when they made their appearance the house was quiet and the lights out, he was to slip down and let them in; if not, they were to go away again and return an hour later. All four boys were in thick pea-jackets, and wore rough caps which they had bought for the purpose.

When they reached Perkins's public-house, the prize-fighter surveyed them closely.

"Ye will pass in a crowd," he said; "but keep your caps well down over yer faces. Now mind, young gents, if there's a row comes over this 'ere business, I ain't to blame in the matter."

"All right, Perkins, but there will be no row."

Being joined by Bill Lowe and three other boxers, they set out together for the New Cut; past the New Houses of Parliament—still in the hands of the builders—over Westminster Bridge, past the flaring lights in front of Astley's, and into the New Cut.

Here, as usual, business was brisk; the public-houses were doing a roaring trade. Rows of costermongers' carts lined the road on either side, and the hoarse shouts of the vendors of fruit, vegetables, and shell-fish, mingled with the Babel of voices from the throng of people who loitered about the street, which was regarded as the promenade of the neighbourhood. Sounds of musical instruments and a loud chorus came from the upper windows of many of the public-houses and from the low music-halls known by the name of "penny gaffs."

It was in front of one of these that the party stopped. Unlike the others, no row of flaring lights burned over the entrance, no posters with huge letters and sensational headings invited the public to enter; one solitary lamp hung over the door, which was kept closed; men were passing in, however, after exchanging a word with one of those stationed at the door.

"It's a private sort of affair," Perkins said; "none ain't supposed to go but those as is in the swim. They pretend to be mighty afraid of the peelers; but, Lor' bless you! the police don't trouble about them. When these chaps gets to making rows in the street, and to kicking up a rumpus, then they will have something to say about it sharp enough; but as long as they merely spout and argue among themselves, the peelers lets them go on. Well, young gents, here we goes."

Bill Lowe advanced first; he was known to the doorkeeper, and the words "All right, mate, friends of mine," were sufficient. He stood aside, and the party entered. Passing through a passage, they were in a hall some fifty feet long by half as wide; the walls had originally been painted blue, with wreaths of flowers along the top, but these and the roof were so discoloured by smoke and dirt, that the whole were reduced to a dingy brown. At the end at which they entered was a gallery extending some fifteen feet into the room, at the other end was a raised platform, with a drop curtain. The latter was now raised, and displayed a table with half a dozen chairs. The chairman for the evening was seated in the centre of the table. He was a young man with a pale face, eyes bloodshot from many nights spent in the reeking atmosphere of the room, and tumbled hair, which looked as if weeks had passed since it had made the acquaintance of a brush. He had just risen as the party entered; the room, which was fairly filled with men, rang with the applause which had greeted the speaker who had sat down.

"Fellow-workmen," said the chairman—("I wonder what you work at," Frank muttered below his breath; "nothing that requires washing, anyhow.")—"Fellow-workmen, your cheers are evidence how deeply you have been moved by the noble words of my friend Mr. Duggins, and how your blood boils at the hideous slavery to which we are condemned by a tyrannical aristocracy. You will now be addressed by my eloquent friend Mr. Simpkins, boot-closer."



Mr. Simpkins rose. He was a short, round-shouldered man, made still shorter by the bend which he had acquired by the operation of boot-closing; his eyes were small, and sunken in his head; his nose wide and flat, as if in his early youth he had fallen on the edge of a pewter pot, and he too had the appearance of regarding water with as deep an aversion as he viewed the aristocracy.

"Fellow-workmen," he began, "or rather I should say fellow-slaves,"—this sentiment was received with a roar of applause,—"the time is approaching when our chains will be broken, when the bloodstained power known as the British Constitution will be rent and trampled under foot, when the myrmidons of power will flee before an uprisen people. They know it, these oppressors of ours; they tremble in their palaces and mansions, where they feast upon the wealth drained from the blood of the people. They know that the day is at hand, and that the millions whose labour has created the wealth of this country are about to reclaim their own."

A roar of applause went up as the speaker paused and mopped his forehead with a red handkerchief. But the applause was suddenly stilled by the sound of the emphatic "Bosh!" which Frank shouted at the top of his voice. Every one turned round, and shouts arose of "Who is that?" "Down with him!" "Turn him out!" "Knock him down!" The orator seized the occasion.

"A spy of the tottering government has intruded upon the deliberations of this assembly, but I tell him I fear him not."

"Never mind, out he goes," one of the men shouted, and all began to press upon the little group standing at the back of the room, and from one of whom the objectionable word had evidently come.

"We are in for a row, Mr. Norris, and no mistake," Perkins said; "the sooner we gets out of this the better."

But this was not so easily done; the crowd had already interposed between them and the door.

"Now stand back," Perkins said, "and let us out. We ain't no spies, and we don't want to hurt any one. Some of you may know me: I am Perkins of the Black Dog, over at Westminster, so you had best leave us alone."

The greater part of those present, however, had imbibed sufficient to render them valorous, and a rush was made upon the party.

Their reception was a warm one; the five prize-fighters struck out right and left, while Frank and his schoolfellows ably seconded them. A tall red-haired fellow who had singled out Frank, was met by a blow which knocked him off his feet, and he fell backward as if shot. Their vigorous blows drove the leading assailants back, and in spite of their numbers the crowd of angry men recoiled before their handful of opponents.

"Come on," Perkins said, "make for the door; they are breaking up the chairs, and we shall have it hot in a few minutes."

Keeping together, they fought their way, in spite of all opposition, to the door, Perkins leading, while Bill Lowe brought up the rear. They were soon in the open air.

"Now," Perkins exclaimed, "you hook it, gents, as fast as you can; me and Bill will keep the door for a minute." The boys dashed off, and after making at full speed into the Westminster Bridge Road, slackened their pace, and walked quietly back to Dean's Yard. They were in high glee over their adventure, which all agreed had been a splendid lark, and was the more satisfactory as all had escaped without any mark which would testify against them. It was still early, and they had for two hours to walk the streets until the whistle of the fag at the window told them that all were in bed and quiet, and they might safely make their entry. This was effected without noise; the bolts were slipped into their places again, and with their shoes in their hands, the party went noiselessly up to their rooms.



CHAPTER V.

A TERRIBLE ACCUSATION.

TWO days later, as Frank was about to start for the cricket-field, a small boy, whom he recognised as a son of Perkins, stopped him.

"Father wants to speak to you perticular, Mr. Norris."

"All right, young un, I will go round there at once."

Wondering what Perkins could have to say to him, Frank took his way to the public-house.

"What is it, Perkins?" he asked the prize-fighter as the latter let him into his private parlour.

"Well sir, there's a rumpus over this business as we had the other night."

"How a rumpus, Perkins?"

"Well, sir, there was a tall red-haired chap—leastways I hear as he's tall and red-headed, and is a tailor by trade; his name is Suggs. It seems as how he got knocked down in the scrummage, and was so bad that the police, who came up after you left, took him to hospital; they brought him round all right, but it seems as how the bridge of his nose was broke, and it will be flat to his face for the rest of his life. Now I fancy that's a piece of your handiwork, Mr. Norris; I saw jist such a chap as that go down when you hit him, and I thought to myself at the time what a onener it was."

"Yes, I did knock down just such a fellow," Frank said, "and I am sorry I hit him so hard; I was afraid at the time that I hurt him."

"You should not let out from the shoulder in that sort of way, Mr. Norris," the pugilist said, shaking his head; "you hit like the kick of a horse, and you never know what mayn't come of them sort of blows. No, sir; half-armed hitting is the thing for a general row; it hurts just as much, and is just as good for closing up an eye, but it don't do no general damage, so to speak. Now, sir, there's a row over the business. In course I holds my tongue; but they says as four of the party was young uns, and they guessed as they was gents. Now they puts things together, and have found out as I gives lessons to some of you Westminster gents, and they guesses as some of you was with me. Now, as I tells them, what can they do? They was the first to begin it, and we was only standing on self-defence, that's the way I puts it. No magistrate would look at the charge for a minute. It stands to reason that nine men did not attack four or five hundred. They must have been attacking us, that's clear to any one; and if it was me I should not care the snap of a finger about it—that's what I tells the red-haired tailor when he came here with two of his pals this morning. 'We has as much right to our opinions as you have; you attacks us,' says I, 'and we gives you pepper, that's all about it.' 'His beauty's spoilt for life,' says one of his mates. 'He never had no beauty to spoil,' says I, 'by the look of 'im,' so we got to words. 'They was Westminster boys,' says he. 'That's all you knows about it,' says I. 'I will go to their masters,' says he, 'and report the case, and show him my nose,' says he. 'You have got no case to report,' says I, 'and no nose to show.' 'We will see about that,' says he; 'I ain't going to be made an object for the rest of my life for nothing.'

"So we goes on arguing; but at last he lets out that if I bring him a 'tenner' in the course of the week he will shut up. I ain't allowed of course, Mr. Norris, that any of you young gents had a hand in the fray, quite the contrary; but he has got it into his head that it is so, and he has made up his mind that he will go to the master. I don't think it likely that they could spot you, for they could hardly have got a fair look at your faces."

"No," Frank said, "I don't suppose they would recognise any of us; but the first thing Litter would do would be to ask us if any of us were concerned in the affair. It's a beastly nuisance, for just now I happen to be completely cleaned out, and I am sure I do not know where I could get ten pounds from."

"If it had been any other time I could have helped you, Mr. Norris, but I paid my brewers only last night, and I ain't got two quid in the house; but I might manage to get it for you by the end of the week, if there ain't no other way. But my advice to you would be, let the red-haired man go to the master; if you keep your own counsel, no one can swear it out against you."

"No, I won't do that, Perkins," Frank said, "it's known in the house; besides, if I am asked I must say it's me. Thank you for your offer. I will see you again in a day or two."

Frank walked back to his boarding-house, moody and dejected. Harris was in his room working. Frank told him what had happened.

"This is a bad business indeed," Harris said. "By Jove! if it comes out, Litter would expel the four of us. What is to be done? I am sure I don't know."

"I don't see where I am to get ten pounds; I have only got fifteen shillings now."

"I have only seven and sixpence," Harris said. "I have paid Shotten's bill for last term this week, and I know that Travers and James have not much more than I have. We might get something on our watches; but they are all silver, and I don't suppose we could get more than a pound apiece for them. But still that's something, and with our united silver would make up six pounds."

"I could get a pound or two from my cousin," Frank said; "Fred always seems to be well supplied with money."

"Because he never spends any," Harris said. "I am mistaken if Barkley will lend you anything."

"Oh, he will lend it if he's got it." But Harris turned out to be right. After the next school Frank laid the case before his cousin, who listened in silence to the story.

"I am very sorry, Frank," he said when he had finished, "but I am entirely out of money at present."

"I thought you always had money," Frank said shortly.

"Not always," Fred replied quietly. "As you know, I am fond of books, and last week I paid my bill for that edition of Shakespeare that you were admiring."

Fred Barkley had indeed a library of books of which he was very proud, and which was worth more than all those belonging to the rest of the boys up College together. Frank was too proud to suggest that his cousin could, if he chose, easily raise the amount required on a few of his favourites, and left the room without saying a word.

Fred Barkley did not continue the work upon which he was engaged after his cousin had left the room, but sat looking fixedly at the papers before him.

"This is a grand opportunity," he muttered to himself, "and I should be a fool if I let it slip. The question is, how is it best to be managed. I should be an idiot indeed if I cannot put a spoke into Master Frank's wheel somehow."

The next day the Sixth Form, as usual, went into the library to do their construing. Dr. Litter, according to his usual custom, walked up and down hearing them and asking questions, the form sitting at their desks, which ran round the room. The Doctor was a fidgety man, and was always either twirling his watch-chain or eye-glass, or rattling the keys, knife, and other articles in his trousers pockets. Being perfectly conscious of the habit, he often emptied the contents of his pocket on to the table before starting to walk about the room, and this he did on the present occasion.

As often happened, he was called from the room in the course of the lesson, and, ordering the boys to get up twenty additional lines of their Greek play in his absence, he left the room and did not return for half an hour. While he was away the boys moved freely about, some to consult each other's lexicons, others to chat. When Dr. Litter returned the lesson was finished, and the boys went back to the great schoolroom.

On the following morning Frank Norris received a letter. On his opening it he found, to his astonishment, that it contained only a bank-note for ten pounds, with the words "From a friend." Frank was simply astounded.

Who on earth could have sent him the exact sum of which he stood in need? He at once told his three friends what had occurred, and they were as much astonished as himself. All agreed that it was a perfect Godsend, though how any one could have got to know of his necessity for ten pounds at this special time none could imagine, as this was, as far as they were aware, known only to themselves and Fred Barkley. Frank at once concluded that his cousin must have sent him the money, and immediately sent up College and asked him to come to his room. Fred soon came up, and Frank at once proceeded to thank him for his gift. Fred, however, appeared as surprised as himself, and disclaimed any knowledge whatever of the note.

"I told you, Frank," he said reproachfully, "that I had no money. Do you think that if I had it I would not have given it to you at once, instead of sending it in that roundabout manner? Do you know the handwriting? that may afford you some clue."

"No," Frank said; "the name and address, as well as the words within, are done in printing characters, so that it is impossible to say who wrote them. Well, it is an extraordinary business, and I can only say that I am extremely thankful to the good fairy who has got me out of the scrape."

Frank felt indeed relieved. He felt sure that the head-master would consider such an escapade by boys of the Sixth Form an unforgivable crime, and that expulsion would follow discovery; and knowing the hot temper of his uncle, he feared that the latter would view the matter in the most serious light. It was therefore with a light heart that he went across to the Black Dog and placed the note in the hands of Perkins, merely saying that he was glad to say that he had been able to get the money to satisfy the red-haired tailor for his loss of beauty.

"It goes agin my heart to give it to him, Mr. Norris; but in course if you decide not to face it out there's nothing for it. I am glad you have got the money together."

A week later one of the monitors informed Frank that the head-master wished to see him in the library. Wondering at this unusual order, Frank at once repaired there. Dr. Litter was sitting at his table, and he raised his eyes gravely as Frank entered.

"Norris," he said, "I have been shocked at what has happened more than at anything which has occurred to me during my head-mastership of Westminster. I may tell you that everything is discovered. Now I leave it to you to make a full and frank confession."

Frank was thunderstruck. So in some way his breaking out of bounds had become known to the headmaster. The tailor must have turned traitor and peached after having received his money.

For a minute he stood silent and confounded, while Dr. Litter looked at him gravely.

"I acknowledge, sir," Frank began, "that I broke out of bounds to go to a Chartist meeting, and that I got into a row there. I am very sorry now, but I really meant no harm by it; it was a foolish lark."

"And is that all you have to confess?" Dr. Litter said quietly.

"Yes, sir," Frank said in surprise, "I don't know that there's anything else for me to say."

"You have not come to the most serious part of it yet," the Doctor said.

"I don't know what you mean, sir," Frank said, more and more astonished.

"You hurt him, and very seriously."

"Yes, sir, I broke a man's nose in the fight, but I did it in self-defence."

"And you paid him ten pounds to prevent his coming to me," the Doctor said.

"I acknowledge that I did so, but I don't see there was any harm in that."

"And where did you get the ten pounds from?" the Doctor asked slowly.

"It was sent to me in an envelope," Frank replied.

"And who sent it to you?"

"I don't know, sir."

"Norris," the Doctor said sternly, "you stole that note from my table."

Frank stepped back as if struck, the blood left his face, and he stood deadly pale.

"Stole it!" he repeated, in a low, wondering tone.

"Yes," the Doctor repeated, "stole it from my table when I left the room."

"It is a lie!" Frank exclaimed, in a burst of passion; "it is a lie, sir, whoever said it."

Without replying to the outburst, the Doctor touched a bell which stood on the table, and a junior waiting outside entered.

"Tell Mr. Wire and Mr. Richards I wish to speak to them."

Not a word was spoken in the library until the under-masters entered. A thousand thoughts passed rapidly through Frank's brain. He was bewildered, and almost stupefied by this sudden charge, and yet he felt how difficult it would be to clear himself from it. The under-master and Frank's house-master entered.

"I have sent for you, gentlemen, on a most painful business," Dr. Litter said. "I mentioned to you, Mr. Wire, a week since, that I had lost a ten-pound note. I placed it on the table here, during the morning lesson, with my keys and pencil. I was called out of the room for half an hour. When school was over I put the things back in my pocket, but it was not until the afternoon that I missed the note. Thinking it over, I could not recall taking it up with the other things from the table; but of this I could not be positively certain. As I told you, I could not for a moment believe that any of the boys of my form could have taken it, and I could only suppose that I had dropped it between the School and my house.

"As it happened, I had only got the note the day before from my bankers, and had therefore no difficulty in obtaining the number. I gave notice at the Bank of England at once that the note had been lost, and requested them to obtain the name and address of the presenter, should it be brought in. It was presented yesterday by a man who, after being questioned, said he was a tailor, living in Bermondsey. As I was determined to follow the matter up, I saw the Superintendent of Police, and a policeman was sent across to him. The man said that he had been seriously injured by one of my boys at a low meeting held at some place in the New Cut, and that the ten pounds had been given him as compensation, he having threatened to come and complain to me.

"He was ignorant of the name of the boy, but he had received the note from a prize-fighter named Perkins, who keeps a low public-house down at Millbank. I sent a note to the man, requesting him to be good enough to call upon me this morning early. He did so. I told him that I had heard that he had paid to that man ten pounds as compensation for an injury which he had received from one of my boys, and I asked him from whom he had received it.

"He told me that nothing whatever would have induced him to tell; but as he knew the young gent would himself confess the instant the question was put, for he had told him he should do so did it come to my ears, there was no motive in his keeping silence, and it was Mr. Norris who had given it to him. On inquiry I find that the meeting in question was held between half-past nine and eleven; therefore, to have been present, Norris must have broken out of bounds and got into the boarding-house at night.

"This, in itself, would be a very grave offence, but it is as nothing by the side of the other. I am most reluctantly obliged to admit that I can come to but one conclusion: Norris, having broken bounds, and got into a disgraceful fray, was afraid that the matter would come to my ears. It was absolutely necessary for him to procure ten pounds to buy the silence of this man; my own very culpable carelessness, which I most deeply regret, left the note on the table, and the temptation was too much for him.

"I have questioned him how he got it. If he had said that he had picked it up in the yard, and, not knowing to whom it belonged, had very improperly, without making inquiry, devoted it to the purpose of silencing this man, I should have gladly believed him—for hitherto he has stood high in my estimation, and I should certainly have considered him incapable of an act of theft. But he tells me that it was sent to him in an envelope, by whom he does not know; and this absurd story is, to my mind, a clear proof that he must have stolen it from the table."

The two masters had at first looked at Frank with incredulous surprise, but as the narrative continued and the proofs appeared to accumulate, the expression changed, and they regarded him with horror, not unmixed with pity. For a minute there was silence, then Mr. Richards said:—

"Strong as the proofs seem to be, sir, I can hardly believe in the possibility of Norris having behaved in this way. He has always been a particularly straightforward, honest, and honourable lad; there is not a boy in the house of whom I would so absolutely have disbelieved this tale. That he did send this note to the man there can, by his own confession, be no doubt, but I still cannot believe that he stole it. Come now, Norris, you have got into a terrible scrape, but don't make matters worse; tell us frankly the truth about it."

"I have told the truth," Frank said, in a low and unnatural voice. "I received the note in an envelope; here it is, sir, with, as you see, only the words 'From a friend.' I showed it when I had got it to Harris, Travers, James, and Barkley, and had not the remotest idea who it came from."

"To whom had you mentioned the need you had of ten pounds?" Mr. Wire asked.

"No one knew it except those four and Perkins, not a soul."

The three masters looked even more grave. The four boys were sent for one by one, and were asked if they had mentioned to any one the need which Frank had of ten pounds; but all declared they had spoken to no one on the subject.

"He showed you the envelope containing the note he received; what did you think about it?"

"It seemed a curious thing, sir," Harris said, "but none of us could account for it."

"I am accused," Frank said, in a harsh voice, "of having stolen that note from Dr. Litter's table."

For the moment the four boys stood in silent astonishment.

"Nonsense, Frank," Harris burst out impetuously, "we know you better than that, old fellow; if an angel from heaven came down and told me you were a thief I would not believe him," and Harris seized his friend's hand and wrung it warmly, an example followed by his three companions.

Hitherto Frank's face had been hard and set, but he broke down now, and the tears streamed down his cheeks.

"You can go now," Dr. Litter said, and when the door closed upon them he continued: "I would give much, very much, Norris, to be able to believe in your innocence; but I cannot see a possibility of it; the evidence to my mind is overwhelming. I acquit you of any idea of deliberate theft. You were pressed and afraid of exposure, and the temptation offered by the note was too strong for you; you thought you saw a way of escape, and to account to your comrades for the possession of the money, you put it in an envelope and posted it, directed to yourself. Even now, if you will confess the truth, I will send you home privately, and avoid public expulsion and disgrace in consideration of the good character you have always hitherto borne; if not, I must at once lay the whole facts before your uncle and guardian, and to-morrow you will be publicly expelled."

"I have nothing to say, sir," Frank said quietly; "overwhelming as the proof appears against me, I have spoken the simple truth, and I swear that I never saw that note until I took it from the envelope."

"Go to your room, sir!" Dr. Litter said, with indignation, "this continued denial is almost worse than the offence."

Without a word Frank rose and left the library.

"This is indeed a shocking business," Mr. Wire said, as he followed Dr. Litter to the schoolroom.

"I cannot credit it," Mr. Richards put in; "I know him so well, that, absolutely conclusive as I allow the evidence to be, I still hesitate to believe him to be guilty."

After school was over Fred Barkley ran up to his cousin's room.

"My dear Frank," he exclaimed, "we are ordered not to communicate with you, but I could not help running in to tell you that every one believes you to be innocent."

"I hardly know whether I believe it myself," Frank said bitterly. "But you can do something for me, Fred; I have written a line to my uncle, will you post it for me at once?"

"Certainly," Fred replied; "but there is some one coming upstairs, so I must be off." He took the letter and was gone. It contained only a few words:—

"My dear Uncle,—If you believe me innocent of this hideous charge, which I swear to you I am not guilty of, send me one line by hand when you get this. As long as I know that you have faith in me I can face it out."

The afternoon passed slowly to the prisoner. His uncle would get the letter between three and four, and he might have an answer half an hour afterwards. Hour after hour passed, and, except the servant who brought up his tea, no one came near him. He reasoned to himself that his uncle might be out. At eight o'clock he heard a noise on the stairs; a number of feet approached his room, and then the door opened, and the whole of the boys in the boarding-house poured in.

"Norris, old fellow," Harris said, "we could stop away no longer, and in spite of orders we have come to see you. I beg to tell you in the name of the whole house, and I may say the whole School, that not a boy here believes you to be guilty. How the note came into your hands we don't know and we don't care, but we are certain you did not take it."

"No! no!" was shouted in a chorus.

"So keep up your spirits, old fellow," Harris said, "it will come right sooner or later."

For some time Frank was unable to speak.

"Thank you all," he said at last, in a choking voice, "it is a consolation to me indeed to know that my old friends still believe in me; but, till my innocence is proved, I shall never be able to look the world in the face again."

"Come, boys, this will not do," a voice at the door said; "Harris, you elder boys ought to set a better example to the younger ones. I told you that the Doctor's orders were positive that no one was to communicate with Norris."

"I can't help it, sir," Harris said; "we all felt we couldn't go to bed to-night without telling Norris that we knew he was innocent."

"Well, well, you must go downstairs now,"—not unkindly; "you must not stay a minute longer." There was a chorus of "Good night, Norris!" "Good night, old fellow!" "Keep up your pluck!" and various other encouraging expressions, and the party filed out of the door; Mr. Richards waited to see the last out, and then left Frank to his thoughts.

Not till ten o'clock did Frank give up all hope of hearing from his uncle, then he felt he had been condemned.

"All my school-fellows acquit me, and my uncle, who should know me better than any of them, condemns me. I wonder what Alice said. I don't believe she would believe me guilty if all the world told her."

At this moment the door opened quietly again, and Fred Barkley entered. Frank leapt to his feet to see if he was the bearer of a letter.

Fred shook his head in answer to the unasked question. "I have slipped out of College to see you, Frank, and Richards has given me leave to come up. I have no news, I only came to see what you were going to do."

"You posted the letter to my uncle, Fred?" he asked.

"Yes, at once," he replied.

Frank was silent.

"What do you mean to do?" Fred went on.

"Do?" Frank asked, "what do you mean?"

"Why, I suppose you don't mean to stop here until to-morrow."

"I don't know," Frank replied, "I had not thought about it."

"I shouldn't, if I were in your place. It would be a fearful business; there hasn't been a boy expelled from Westminster for the last thirty years. I shouldn't stop for it if I were you."

"But what am I to do? where am I to go?" said Frank listlessly.

"Do?" said Fred, "why, go abroad to be sure. I should go out to California, or Australia, or somewhere, and in time this will be all forgotten. Perhaps it will turn out who sent that money. It is not as if facing it out would do any good, for you can prove nothing. Every one who knows you believes you innocent."

"Uncle Harry doesn't," Frank said bitterly, "or he would have sent an answer to my letter."

"Ah! well, you know what he is," Fred said, "how passionate and hasty he is; but after a time he will think as we all do, never fear. Look here, I thought that you would want some money, so have been round to Ginger's and have sold all my books. The old beggar would not give me more than twenty pounds for them, though I have paid him more than double that, besides what I have bought from others. However, here are the twenty pounds at your service, if you like to take them."

Frank remained irresolute for a moment; then the thought of the terrible scene in the schoolroom, and of the tones in which the Doctor would pronounce his expulsion, overcame him.

"I may as well go before as after, for I could not go home after that. Thank you, Fred, with all my heart; I will take your money and advice, and if I get a rich man I will pay you again. Are the fellows in bed?"

"Yes," Fred replied, "and Richards is in his study, so you can go down with me and slip out easy enough."

"Tell the others," Frank said, "that I went because I could not face the scene to-morrow, and that I hope some day to return and prove my innocence."

Without another word he opened his drawers, packed some clothes in a small portmanteau, put on his pea-jacket and the low cap he had worn in his unfortunate expedition to the New Cut; then he stole softly downstairs with Fred, and sallied out into the night air.



CHAPTER VI.

AT NEW ORLEANS.

FRANK NORRIS took his way eastward after leaving Westminster. He slept at a small hotel in the city, and at daybreak walked on to the docks. He was careless where he went, so that it was out of England; but he was determined, if possible, to work his passage, so as to leave the sum of money in his pocket untouched until he got to his destination. He went on board a number of ships and asked the captains if they wanted hands, but on his acknowledgment that he had never been at sea, none of them would ship him for the outward voyage only. At last he paused before a fine ship, the Mississippi; a printed placard on the wharf beside her mentioned that the well-known and favourite clipper would sail for New Orleans on that day. He walked on board and went up to the captain, who was talking to the first mate, while the latter was superintending the getting of cargo on board.

"Do you want a hand, sir?"

"Well, that depends," the captain said; "I am still two or three hands short, but they have promised to send me them this morning. Are you a sailor?"

"No, sir; but I can row and sail an open boat, and am ready to make myself useful. I want to work my passage out."

"You look an active young fellow," the captain said, "but I don't care about taking a landsman only for the voyage out; I should have to ship another hand in your place at New Orleans, and probably have to pay more wages there than I could get one for here. Still, likely enough, they may send me down at the last moment two or three hands who know no more about it than you do, and may not be half so willing to learn as I should judge you to be. What do you say, Ephraim; shall we take him?"

"He looks a likely sort," the mate said.

"Very well then, it's agreed; you can take off your coat and fall to work at once; I will send down word to the office that I have shipped you." Frank stripped off his coat and waistcoat, and stowed them, with his portmanteau, out of the way, and then set to work with a will, the whiteness of his shirt, and his general appearance, exciting some jeering comments among the other men at work; but the activity and strength which he showed soon astonished and silenced them.

By one o'clock the last bale of cargo was stowed, and the hatches put on. The landsmen who had been employed went on shore, and Frank went forward to the forecastle, with the men, to dinner.

"Not the sort of grub you have been accustomed to, lad," one of the men said.

"I have eaten worse," Frank said carelessly, "and don't care if I never eat better. How long do you suppose we shall be before we get to New Orleans?"

"It all depends upon the wind," the sailor answered, "may be a month, may be three. Are you going to leave us there?"

"Yes," Frank said, "I am only working my passage out."

"It's a roughish place is New Orleans," the sailor said; "the sort of place where you want to have a knife or pistol ready at hand. Lor', I have seen some rum doings there; it's a word and a blow, I can tell ye."

"Ah! well," Frank laughed, "I suppose I shall do as well as the rest."

The voice of the mate was now heard calling to all hands to prepare to cast off. The men had hurried through their dinner, for they knew that the time allowed them would be short, and began casting off hawsers, coiling down ropes, and preparing for a start. The bell was ringing, and the friends of the passengers were saying good-bye. The capstan was manned, and the vessel moved slowly away from the quay.

Five minutes later she was at the dock gates; these swung open, and the vessel slowly made her way through them, and was soon in the river.

As the men ran aloft to loosen the sails, Frank placed himself next to the sailor who had spoken to him at dinner, and followed him up the shrouds, and, imitating his actions, he was soon out on the yard hauling away with the others. When the sails were all set he returned below.

"Wall done, youngster," the mate said; "I reckon you are about as spry for a green hand as any I have come across; I had my eye on you, and you'll do. You go on like that, and you will make a first-rate hand afore long."

There was plenty of work to do as they went down the river. The sails had to be braced round as the wind took them on different sides in the winding reaches; the decks were sluiced down, to get rid of the first coat of dirt which they had acquired in the docks; ropes had to be coiled and tidied up, and the many articles lying loosely about the deck to be put in their places and lashed in readiness for sea work. The tide met them just as it was getting dark, and as the wind dropped, and was not sufficiently strong to carry the ship against it, the anchor was dropped a few miles below Gravesend.

The men were divided into two watches, but all were told that, with the exception of two stationed as an anchor watch, they could turn in till tide turned. Frank threw himself at once into the bunk which had been allotted to him. He had not closed an eye the night before, and was worn out by emotion and fatigue, and scarcely had he lain down than he was sound asleep. He had been placed in the starboard watch, and slept till he was roughly shaken at four o'clock in the morning.

"Get up, mate, your watch is called."

Frank leapt out and made his way on deck. The vessel had been now three hours under weigh. She had passed the Nore, whose light shone brightly over the stern.

"The wind is freshening a bit," one of the men said, "we shall be out round the Foreland by dinner-time."

The voyage was an uneventful one; Frank escaped the first fight in which new-comers generally have to take part before they settle down in their new sphere. He was thoroughly good-tempered, and fully a match for any of his messmates in chaff, and he soon became a favourite in the fo'castle. He was always ready to take his share of the work, and was soon as much at home on the yards as the rest. The change and the newness of the life were very good for him; he was never alone, and had no time to think or brood over his troubles, and he was almost sorry when the end of the voyage approached.

"Not a lively-looking shore," the mate said to him as he leaned against the bulwark, looking at the low banks of the river a few miles below New Orleans. "No, even an American may confess that there ain't much beauty about this river. It's a great river, and a mighty useful one, but it ain't beautiful. Now, what are you thinking of doing when you get ashore?"

"I was thinking to begin by getting employment on board a boat of some sort. What I shall do afterwards of course I do not know; but if I can earn my living on the water for a few months, till I have time to look round and see what is best to be done, I shall be well satisfied. I have got a few pounds, but I don't want to touch them; they will come in useful if I want to move, or to buy a horse, or anything of that sort."

"You will do," the mate said. "You have shown yourself a right-down sharp fellow on board this ship, and I expect you will make your way whatever you try a hand at. I have taken a fancy to you, and should be glad to do you a good turn if I can. I have been in and out of this port for some years, and know Orleans pretty tidy, and I can tell you that there ain't a port on this side of the water or the other where a fellow can be put out of the way more promptly than here; there are parts of New Orleans which, I tell you, are a sort of hell on earth.

"There are places you couldn't go into without some one picking a quarrel with you afore you have been in there two minutes, and a quarrel here means knives out afore you have time to think. On the other hand, Orleans is a place where a steady industrious fellow, with his head screwed on right, has a good chance of getting on. The trade up the river is immense, and will be far greater than it is now; and there's pretty well a continent to the west, with openings of all sorts, land and cattle, houses and mining, and trade with Mexico. But I don't see as you can do better than to follow out your own idea.

"I know a score of men here who own boats trading up the river, and the first time I go ashore I will take you with me and put you in good hands. The rate of pay ain't high, for it's looked on as easy work; still, a few months at it will open your eyes and put you into the ways of the country, and, once at home, I tell you there's money to be made on the river, heaps of it, and when it's seen that you are steady, and willing, and 'cute, you will find plenty who will give you a helping hand. There's no greater place for loafers than New Orleans, and a chap who will really work will soon make his mark."

Frank warmly thanked the mate for his offer. The moment the ship cast anchor off the town a crowd of negroes came on board and unloaded her, and the crew had comparatively little to do; the three or four passengers who had come out in her went on shore at once, but it was not until the third afternoon after her arrival that the mate was able to leave the ship.

"Now, lad," he said to Frank, "jump into the boat along with me, and I will see if I can't put you into the groove."

Keeping along the wharves for some distance, the mate presently entered a small wooden office, telling Frank to wait outside.

On entering he accosted the only occupant of the place, a man of some forty years of age, who was dressed entirely in white, and was sitting smoking a huge cigar, with his chair tilted back and his feet on the table.

"How are you, Ephraim?" he said, as the mate entered. "I saw your ship had arrived. Had a good voyage?"

"First-class," the mate replied; "not very fast, but quiet and comfortable," and he took a cigar from an open box on the table and lighted it. "I haven't come round for a talk with you now, I have only just come ashore for the first time; but I wanted to speak to you about a young chap as came out with us. He has worked his passage out, and is about the smartest young fellow I ever shipped, and has the makings of a first-class seaman in him, but he doesn't care about stopping at sea. He's of good family in the old country, as one can easily see. I expect he has got into some scrape, and has had to make a bolt of it; however, that's no business of mine. He's as strong as a horse, and as active as a squirrel; he can handle an oar and sail a boat. I didn't like the thought of his landing here and getting into bad hands, so I thought I would come straight to you. He said what he wanted to do was to work on the river, for a few months at any rate, until he got to know the place. Now I know you have a dozen tugs and a score of barges, and I thought you might set him on at once. He would make a good second hand on one of your large boats. If it's but to oblige me, I wish you would put him on board one with a sober, steady chap of a decent kind; as soon as he gets to know the work and the river, I will guarantee that he will be fit to take charge himself."

"That's easy enough done, Ephraim," the trader replied, "all except finding the sober and steady decent man to put him under. However, I will do my best. Have you got him here?"

"Yes, he is outside," Ephraim said; and rising, he went to the door and called Frank in. "This is the hand I was speaking to you about, Mr. Willcox."

"Well, young man," the trader said, "I hear you want a berth on board a tug or flat. Which would you rather have?"

"I would prefer to be on a flat,—at any rate for a time, sir," Frank said; "I am a pretty good hand at sailing or rowing, but I don't know anything about steamboats."

"There's not much to learn in that," the trader said; "the work is simply to keep the decks clean, to help to load and unload at each landing-place, and to pole off in shallows. However, I will put you on board a flat. The wages to begin with will be twenty dollars a month and your keep, if that will suit you."

"That will do, sir, very well," Frank said. "When shall I come to work?"

"If you come here this time to-morrow you can go aboard at once. One of the flats will go up the first thing in the morning."

"Thank you, sir, I will be here. I am greatly obliged to you, Mr. Alderson, for your kind recommendation of me."

"I am glad to have put you into a berth," the mate said. "Now I should recommend you to get on board again soon."

Frank strolled about the wharves for an hour or two, and then went on board. Before going on shore the following day, the captain gave him a certificate, saying that he had sailed in the Mississippi, and was a good, willing, and reliable hand.



"You may not intend to go to sea again, but if you should, this will get you a better berth than if you had applied as a landsman. I am very pleased with your conduct on board the ship, and I am only sorry you are leaving us. I think it's a pity you don't stick to it, for it is clear that you are well educated, and would be able to pass as a mate as soon as you had been the requisite time at sea. However, you can fall back on that if you don't get on as well as you expect on shore."

The mate said good-bye to him warmly.

"Your employer is one of the very best in the place," said he. "You must not suppose he is in a small way because you see him in that little office: he is one of the largest tug and flat owners in New Orleans. He keeps his eye on his men, and will push you forward if he sees you deserve it. He has the name of having the best of captains on the river, and of being one of the best and most liberal of employers. But you must not expect much in flat life, you will find the men rough as well as the work."

"I shan't mind that," Frank said cheerfully; "our own bargemen on the Thames are not the most polished of men."

"And, lad," the mate added, "I should advise you to hand over any money you may have with you to Mr. Willcox; the less money you have in your pockets the better. You have no occasion for it on the river, and there are loafers hanging about at every landing who would think nothing of knocking a man on the head if they thought he had got fifty dollars in his pocket."

Frank promised to take his advice, and, with a hearty farewell to the mate, and a cordial one to his late shipmates, he put his portmanteau in the boat and was rowed ashore.

"Oh, here you are," Mr. Willcox said, as he entered; "just give a call to that man you see outside."

Before doing so, Frank handed over his twenty sovereigns to the trader, asking him to keep them for him, and then went to the door. On a log close by a tall, gaunt man was sitting smoking a short pipe. Frank asked him to step in.

"Hiram," the trader said, "this is the young Britisher who is going as your second hand. I have good accounts of him as a sailor, so you won't have to teach him that part of the business. Of course he is new to the river and its ways."

"I will put him through," the man said, "and will teach him as much as I knows myself if he cares to learn."

"There is no one knows the river better, Hiram; and, as you know, I would have given you the command of a steamer long ago if you would have taken it."

"No, sir," the man said emphatically, "not for Hiram Little. I have been on board a flat all my days, and am not going to be hurried along in one of them puffing things. They have their uses, I am ready enough to allow, when the current is swift and the wind light; I am glad enough of a cast now and then, but to be always in a bustle and flurry is more than I could stand. Come along, youngster, with your sack; the boat is a quarter of a mile down."

Taking up his portmanteau, Frank followed his conductor, who with long strides led the way along the wharf. Not a word was spoken till they reached the side of the boat. This was not a flat such as now are in general use, but a large boat some forty feet in length by fourteen wide, almost flat-bottomed, and capable of carrying a cargo of eight or ten tons of goods. In the stern was a little cabin some eight feet long for the captain and his mate. In front was a similar structure for the four negroes who formed the crew.

She carried one mast, with a large lug-sail. She had four sweeps, but these were seldom used. When the wind was fair she ran before it, when it was foul the mast was lowered; if it fell calm when they were coming down the stream they drifted with it, if when going up, they either anchored or poled her along in the back waters close inshore, or made their way up the numerous channels where the stream flowed sluggishly, or tied on behind a tug if one happened to come along.

Their principal work was to carry up supplies to the various plantations along the banks, to trade with the villages, and to bring down produce to New Orleans; for the stopping-places of the steamers were at wide distances apart, and the number of steamers themselves very small in comparison with those now afloat on the great river. At times they made longer journeys, going up as far as St. Louis; but in that case they were generally, as Frank afterwards learned, towed up the whole distance.

"Hi! Pete, shove that plank ashore," Hiram shouted, and a negro at once showed his head above a scuttle in the bow of the boat, and then emerging, pushed a plank across the fifteen feet of water which intervened between the flat and the wharf.

"That's your first lesson, young man," Hiram said. "Never on no account lay your craft close alongside; thar's river thieves at these landings as would empty half the cargo if you left the boat for ten minutes, if they could step aboard, and these niggers are always asleep the minute after you take your eyes off them. So, whether you have got anything aboard or not, stick to the rule and moor her a bit off the wharf. It's only the trouble of dropping the grapnel over on the outside in addition to the hawser ashore, and then there's never no trouble when you get back and have to report as how you have lost some of the bales. It ain't as how we carry up many things as would pay for taking; soft goods for the stores up the river mostly goes by steamer, but them as ain't hurried, and likes to keep their dollars in their pockets, has their goods up by flats. I have got ten hogsheads of sugar, twenty-four crates of hardware, some barrels of molasses, and forty casks of spirits on board, eighty kegs of nails and a ton or two of rice and flour. We reckon to go up light, and I don't care to have the flat more nor half-full, for when the river's low and the wind light the less we have on board the better. Now Pete, let's have tea as soon as may be."

By this time they had entered the cabin at the stern of the boat. It was only about five feet high, but was large and roomy, and Frank saw with pleasure that it was neat and clean, and was an abode infinitely preferable to the forecastle of the Mississippi.

"Now, lad, that's your side, and this is mine; that's your bunk. I am given to tidy ways, having all my life lived in small places, and I hope as you will fall into my ways; I keeps the cabin tidy myself, and Pete never comes aft here except to bring the food and take it away again; I can't a-bear niggers messing about a place. Victuals of all sorts is provided. You can do as you like about liquor. I keeps a keg of rum on board, and I likes my glass at night; if you likes to join me at that you can pay for half the keg, it has not been broached yet. If you want to drink more nor two glasses a night, ye had best get in yer own stock; if ye don't want to touch it at all, just leave it."

Frank said he liked a glass of grog at night, and should be glad to join in the cask, and that he would do his best to keep his side of the cabin as tidy as the other. In a few minutes the negro brought in the meal, which consisted of a steak fried with onions, followed by a large bowl of oatmeal, with a jug of molasses, and the whole was washed down with tea.

"The stream does not seem to run very rapidly," Frank said, as he and his companion, having lit their pipes, sat down on the deck above.

"It varies," Hiram replied; "sometimes it's sluggish, as you see it here, sometimes it runs like a mill-stream. The art of sailing here is to know the river; for what with its back currents and its eddies, its channels behind islands and its sandbanks, one who knows it can manage to make his way up, while one who didn't know would be drifting backward instead of getting forward. That's what you have got to learn. Fortunately the wind generally blows up the stream; when it don't it's a case of down anchor. There are places where one can hardly get along unless the wind happens to be unusually strong, and there I generally get a tow. The boss has got about twenty steamers on the river, so we don't generally have to wait many hours before one comes along. The tugs is gradually doing away with sailing boats, and in time there won't be many of our kind of craft left; but they are useful, you see, for small places where the steamers don't stop, and for the rivers which run into the Mississippi."

The next morning at daybreak the sail was hoisted, the hawsers thrown off from the shore, and the flat made her way up the river. Frank was surprised to see how fast she sailed, although the wind was but light. The work was easy, for the wind was steady and they seldom sailed at night, the wind generally dropping at sundown. They touched at numerous little settlements, and gradually got rid of the cargo with which they had started.

Sometimes they left the main river and sailed for many miles by narrow channels, where the current, for the most part, was almost imperceptible. They were more than a month from the time they started before they reached the spot at which they were to take in the cargo for their return voyage. The flat was then loaded up with grain, which was put in in bulk and covered with tarpaulin; the boat was now laden down nearly to the water's edge.

The downward voyage differed widely from that up the river; the sail was now seldom used, and instead of skirting the shores they kept in mid-channel, from time to time directing the boat's course by the use of the sweeps. The moon was nearly full when they started, and they continued their voyage by night as well as day. Hiram and Frank took it by turns to be on watch; but the former was seldom down below, except on the rare occasions when the river was free from shoals.

Frank had by this time learned by the ripples on the water to detect the shallows, and could direct the course without assistance; but as soon as the splash of oars was heard on the water, Hiram was sure to appear on deck, however short the time since he had retired to rest.

"You are seeing the river at its best," he was saying one day. "It is about half-full now; when the water's low, the channel where we can pass loaded is often only fifty yards wide, with the water running through it like a sluice. When the water is in flood there is no fear of shoals, but you have got to look about, for it is full of floating trees and logs; when these get stuck we call them snags, and if you were to run on one of them the chances are it would knock a hole as big as a cask in her bottom, and down you would go in two or three minutes."



CHAPTER VII.

ON THE MISSISSIPPI.

"WE are going to have a change of weather, I reckon," Hiram said one afternoon as they were drifting down the stream during their second voyage. "You have been lucky since we started, but we are going to have a change at last; and I can tell you when it blows here it's a caution. They have been having a lot of rain up the country, for the river has been rising regular for the last ten days. We had best make fast for the night, and the sooner we does it the better, for the wind is getting up fast and the rain is just a-going to begin."

In a quarter of an hour the boat was moored to a great tree at the lower end of an island.

"We shall be snug here," he said, "and out of the way of the drift that will be coming down presently. You can turn in and take a long spell of sleep to-night, for sometimes those storms last for days when they come on this time of year, and you will see there will be a sea on that the boat could hardly live in. I wish we had stopped two hours ago; there was a creek where we could have run her in and been snug all through it, but I didn't think it was coming up so quick, and it's too far on to the next place to risk it; however, I expect we shall do very well here."

In another half-hour the gale burst upon them furiously, and Frank congratulated himself that the boat was snugly moored. The thick muddy water of the river was speedily lashed into angry waves; the rain came down in torrents, and although the left-hand bank was but a quarter of a mile distant it was soon lost to view. Frank was glad to leave the deck and crawl into the little cabin, and sit down to a hot meal which the negro cook had prepared.

"Better here than outside, my lad," Hiram said. "I can go as wet as any man if need be, but I like to keep a dry jacket when I can. The wind is just howling outside. I reckon this is going to be a bigger storm nor ordinary, and I have seen some biggish storms on the Mississippi too. I have had some narrer escapes of it, I can tell you, special in the days before there was nary a tug on the river, and we had to row or pole all the way up; besides there ain't so many trees brought down as there used to be in a flood, seeing as the country is getting more and more cleared every day.

"I reckon the time will come when you will be able to go up either the Mississippi or Missouri to the upper waters without seeing a tree drifting down, and when there won't be a snag in their beds. I mind the time when the snags were ten times worse than they is now. I mind once we ran on one of the darned things in pretty nigh as wild a night as this is going to be. I had six hands along with me, and we wanted to get down, 'cause we knew the old man would have a cargo ready for us, and we wanted a run of a day or two on shore at Orleans before we started up again, so we held on. The wind was higher than we reckoned on, and we was just saying we should have done better to tie up, when there was a crash. I thought at first that she would have gone over with the shock, but she didn't—not that it would have made much odds, for there was a snag through her bottom, and the water pouring in like a sluice. It was darkish, but we could make out there was some trees a boat's-length or two ahead which had been caught as they rolled down by another snag, and hung there. The boat didn't float more than a minute after she struck, and then we were all in the river, those who couldn't swim gripping hold of the oars and poles; half a minute and we were all clinging to the boughs, and hoisting ourselves as well as might be clear of the water.

"I tell you, lad, that was a night. It wasn't that we was drenched to the skin with the rain pouring down, and the wind cutting through us—that kind of thing comes natural to a boatman—but it was the oncertainty of the thing. The trees moved and swayed with the waves and current; the flood we knew was rising still, and any moment they might break away from the snag and go whirling along, over and over, down the river. Even if they didn't break away of theirselves, another tree might drive down on us, and if it did, the chances was strong as the hull affair would break loose.

"All that night and all next day we hung on, and then the wind went down a bit, and a nigger who had made us out from the shore came off in a dug-out and took us ashore in two trips. That war a close shave. The wind was northerly and bitter cold, and I don't believe as we could have hung on another night more nor that. Next morning, when we turned out from the nigger's hut to have a look round, there wasn't no sign of them thar trees, they had just gone down the river in the night. Yes, I have had a good many narrow shaves of it, but I do think as that war the narrowest."

"Well, I am heartily glad," Frank said, "that we are tied safely up, out of the way of floating trees, snags, or anything of the kind. I always like hearing the wind when I am snug, and I shall sleep sound knowing that I am not going to hear your shout of 'Watch on deck' in my ear."

In spite of the howling of the gale Frank slept soundly. But he could scarcely believe that it was broad daylight when he awoke; the light was dim and leaden, and when he went out from the cabin he was startled at the aspect of the river. The waves had risen until it resembled an angry sea, the yellow masses of water being tipped with foam; the clouds hung so low that they almost touched the top of the trees; the rain was still falling, and the drops almost hurt from the violence with which they were driven by the wind. The river had risen considerably during the night, and the lower end of the island was already submerged; boughs of trees and driftwood were hurrying along with the stream, and more than one great tree passed, now lifting an arm high in the air, now almost hidden in the waves, as it turned over and over in its rapid course. Frank felt glad indeed that the boat lay in comparatively sheltered waters, though even here the swell caused her at times to roll violently.

"What do you think of it, lad?" Hiram, who had risen some time before Frank, asked.

"It is a wonderfully wild scene," Frank said enthusiastically, "a grand scene! I should not have had an idea that such a sea could have got up on any river. Look at that great tree rolling down, it looks as if it was wrestling for life."

"The wrestle is over, lad, there ain't no more life for that tree; it will just drift along till it either catches on a sandbank and settles down as a snag, or it will drift down to the mouth of the Mississippi, and may be help to choke up some of the shallow channels, or it may chance to strike the deep channel, and go away right out into the Gulf of Florida, and then the barnacles will get hold of it, and it will drift and drift till at last it will get heavier than the water, and then down it will go to the bottom and lie there till there ain't no more left of it. No, lad, there ain't no more life for that tree."

"May be it will wash ashore near the city, or some plantation," Frank said, "and be hauled up and cut into timber, or perhaps into firewood. After all, the useful life of a tree begins with its fall."

"Right you are, lad; yes, that might happen, and I am glad you put it in my mind, for somehow I have always had a sorter pity for a tree when I see it sweeping down in a flood like this. Somehow it's like looking at a drowned man; but, as you say, there's a chance of its getting through it and coming to be of use after all, and what can a tree wish better than that? But we had best be hauling the boat up to the tree and shifting the rope up the trunk a bit; it's just level with the water now, and was nigh eight feet above when we tied it yesterday. I tell you if this goes on there will be some big floods, for it will try the levees, and if they go there ain't no saying what damage may be done in the plantations."

All day the wind blew with unabated fury, and when evening came on Frank thought that it was increasing rather than diminishing in force.

"Let's have a glass of grog and tumble in, my lad," Hiram said, "it gives one the dismals to listen to the wind." They had scarcely wrapped themselves in their blankets when the boat swayed as if struck by an even stronger blast than usual; then there was a sudden crash, which rose even above the howling of the gale.

"What's that?" Frank exclaimed, sitting up.

"It's the tree," Hiram began; but while the words were in his mouth there was a shock and a crash, the roof of the little cabin was stove in, and the boat heeled over until they thought it was going to capsize. Frank was thrown on to the floor with the violence of the shock, but speedily gained his feet.

"What has happened?" he exclaimed.

"The tree has gone," Hiram said; "I have been looking at it all the afternoon, but I didn't want to scare you by telling you as I thought it might go. It's lucky it didn't fall directly on us, or it would have knocked the boat into pieces. The door is jammed. Get hold of that hatchet, lad, and make a shift to get your head out to look round and see what we are doing. Do you hear them niggers holloaing like so many tom-cats? What good do they suppose that will do?"

"I can't see anything," Frank said when he looked out; "it's pitch dark. I will make this hole a bit bigger, and then I will take the lantern and crawl forward and see what has become of the blacks. I am afraid the tree has stove the boat in: look at the water coming up through the float-boards."

"Ay, I expect she is smashed somewhere; it could hardly be otherwise; I reckon this is going to be about as bad a job as the one I was telling you about. Here, lad, put this bottle of rum into your jacket and this loaf of bread; I will take this here chunk of cold beef; like enough we may want 'em afore we are done."

When Frank had enlarged the hole sufficiently to allow his body to pass through, he put the lantern through and then crawled out. He was in a tangle of branches and leaves. The head-rope was a long one; the tree had fallen directly towards them, and the boat was, as far as Frank could see, wedged in between the branches, which forked some forty feet above the roots; a cross branch had stove in the cabin top, and another rested across the scuttle of the cabin used by the negroes.

"Hand me the axe, sharp, Hiram," he said; "the niggers can't get out, and our bow isn't a foot out of water."

Hiram handed up the axe, seized another, and with a great effort squeezed himself through the hole and joined Frank in the fore-part of the boat, which was waist-deep in water.

"Never mind the branch, lad, that will take too long to cut through, and another two or three minutes will do their business; here, rip off two or three of those planks, that will be the quickest way."

Although impeded in their work by the network of boughs, they speedily got off two or three planks and hauled up the frightened negroes. It was but just in time, for there were but a few inches between the water and the top of the low cabin.

"Shut your mouths and drop that howling," Hiram said, "and grip hold of the tree; the boat will sink under our feet in another minute. Stick to your lantern, lad, a light is a comfort anyhow; I'll fetch another from the cabin, and some candles; I know just where they are, and can feel them in the water."

In a minute he rejoined Frank, who was sitting astride of one of the branches.

"That's a bit of luck," he said; "the candles are dry. There ain't more than two feet of water in her aft."

Three or four minutes passed, and the boat still lay beneath their feet, sinking, apparently, no lower. "I will look round again," Hiram said; "it seems to me as she has got jammed, and won't go any lower."

Examining the boat, he found that it was so; she was so completely wedged among the branches that she could sink no lower.

"It's all right," he said joyously. "Jump down, all of you, and lend a hand and unreeve the halliards from the mast and bind her as tight as you can to the branches; pass the ropes under the thwarts. Make haste before she shakes herself free." For the tree, now well clear of the shelter of the land, was swaying heavily.

The work was soon done, and the boat securely fastened to the tree.

"How is it the tree lies steady without rolling over and over, Hiram?" Frank asked, after they paused on the completion of the work.

"I reckon it's the boat as keeps it steady, lad. As long as she lies here she is no weight, but she would be a big weight to lift out of water, and I reckon she keeps the whole affair steady. It couldn't be better if we had planned it. All these boughs break the force of the waves, and keep off a good bit of the wind too; we ain't going to do badly after all."

"Pete, get me that half-bottle of rum from my locker and a tin mug. That is right. Now here is a good strong tot each for you to make your faces black again; you were white with fear when we got you out of that cabin, and I don't blame you; I should have been in just as bad a fright myself if I had been there, though I shouldn't have made such a noise over it. Still, one can't expect men of one colour to have the same ways as those of another, and I am bound to say that if the boat had gone down your boss would have lost four good pieces of property. Feel more comfortable—eh?"

The negroes grinned assent. Easily cast down, their spirits were as easily raised, and seeing that the white men appeared to consider that there was no urgent danger, they soon plucked up their courage.

"I think," Frank said, "the best thing will be to manage to get the cabin door open. We can put a tarpaulin over the hole in the roof, and we shall then have a shelter we can go into; the water is not over the lockers, but I shouldn't like to go in until we get the door open. If this tree did take it into its head to turn round, it would be awkward if there were two or three of us in there, with only that hole to scramble through."

"You are about right, lad; it will be a sight more comfortable than sitting here, for what with the rain and the splashing up of this broken water one might as well be under a pump."

The axes were called into requisition again, for the door was jammed too firmly to be moved.

"Chop it up, and shove the pieces under the tarpaulin, Sam; they will get a bit drier there, and we may want them for a fire presently; there is no saying how long we may be in this here floating forest. That's right. Now, hang one of them lanterns up in the cabin. That's not so bad. Now, lad, our clothes-bags are all right on these hooks. I am just going to rig myself up in a dry shirt and jacket, and advise you to do the same; we may as well have the upper half dry if we must be wet below."

Frank was glad to follow Hiram's example, and a dry flannel shirt made him feel thoroughly warm and comfortable. He handed a shirt to each of the negroes, and the whole party, clustered in the little cabin, were soon comparatively warm and cheerful, in spite of the water, which came up to their knees, and when the boat rose on a wave, swashed up over the locker on which they were sitting. A supply of dry tobacco and some pipes were produced by Hiram, and the little cabin was soon thick with smoke.

"Taking it altogether," Hiram said, "I regard this as about the queerest sarcumstance that ever happened to me; it was just a thousand to one that tree would have smashed us up and sunk us then and thar. It was another thousand to one that when we were staved in we shouldn't have got fixed so that the boat couldn't sink; if any one had told it me as a yarn I should not have believed it."

"It has indeed been a wonderful escape," Frank said, "and I think now that we should be ungrateful indeed if every one of us did not fervently thank God for having preserved us."

"Right you are, lad; praying ain't much in my way—not regular praying; but we men as lives a life like this, and knows that at any moment a snag may go through the boat's bottom, thinks of these things at times, and knows that our lives are in God's hands. It ain't in nature to go up and down this broad river, special at night, when the stars are shining overhead, and the dark woods are as quiet as death, and there ain't no sound to be heard but the lap of the water against the bow for a man not to have serious thoughts. It ain't our way to talk about it. I think we try to do our duty by our employers, and if a mate is laid up, he need never fear getting on a shoal for want of a helping hand; and when our time comes, I fancy as there ain't many of us as is afeared of death, or feels very bad about the account they say we have got to render arterwards. It's different with the niggers; it's their way to be singing hymns and having prayer-meetings, and such like. There is some as is agin this, and says it gives 'em notions, and sets them agin their masters; but I don't see it: it pleases 'em, and it hurts no one; it's just the difference of ways. I expect it comes to the same in the end; leastways, I have seen many a wreck in this here river, when whites and blacks have been a-looking death in the face together, and sartin the white man, even if he has been a hard man, ain't no more afraid to die than the black, generally just the contrary. That's my notion of things."

Frank nodded, and for a time there was silence in the cabin.

"How long are we likely to be in this fix?" Frank asked presently.

"Thar ain't no saying; supposing we don't bring up agin a snag—which the Lord forbid, for like, enough, the tree would shift its position, and we should find ourselves bottom upwards if we did—we may drift on for days and days. Still, we shall be safe to make ourselves seen as soon as the weather clears, and there are boats out again; we have only got to light a fire of wet wood to call their attention. I don't expect this here gale will last much longer; after another day it ought to begin to blow itself out. As long as nothing happens to this tree, and the boat keeps fast where it is, there ain't nothing to make ourselves uncomfortable about. We'd best have a look at them lashings; I tell you, there is a tidy strain on them."

Examining the ropes carefully, they found some of them were already chafed, and, dragging out a piece of wet canvas from the lockers, they cut it into strips and lashed it round the ropes at the points where they were chafing. The strain was indeed very heavy, for the tree and the waterlogged boat rose but little with the waves, and the bow was submerged deeply every time a wave passed them, the gunwale being at no time more than a few inches out of water. Additional lashings were put on, and then Hiram and Frank returned to the cabin, and the latter dozed away the hours till morning, as did the negroes, Hiram remaining wide awake and watchful, and going out from time to time to look at the lashings. As soon as day broke Frank roused himself and went out; Hiram was just descending from one of the boughs.

"I have had a look round," he said; "I don't think it's blowing quite so hard, but thar ain't much change yet. It ain't not to say a cheerful kind of lookout."

Frank climbed up to take a view for himself, but he was glad to return very quickly to the shelter of the cabin. Overhead was a canopy of low grey cloud; around, a curtain of driving rain; below, a chaos of white-headed waves. The day passed slowly, and with little change. Sam found in the fore-part of the boat the iron plate on which he built his fire. They fixed this on the roof of the cabin, fastened a tarpaulin across the boughs so as to shelter it from the rain and drift, and then, with some difficulty, managed to make a fire. Some hot coffee was first prepared, and a frying-pan was then put on and filled with slices of pork. The flour was wet, but Sam made some flat cakes of the wet dough, and placed them in the fat to fry when the pork was done.

"Not a bad meal that," Hiram said, when he had finished, "for a floating forest."

The negroes had now completely recovered from the effects of their fright and wetting, and their spirits, as usual, found vent in merry choruses.

"Just like children, ain't they?" Hiram said, as he and Frank re-entered the cabin, while the negroes continued to feast overhead, "crying one moment and laughing the next. But I have known some good uns among them too, as good mates to work with as a man could want, and as good grit as a white man." Another meal, later in the afternoon, alone broke the monotony of the day. The aspect of the weather was unchanged at nightfall, but Hiram asserted that the wind had certainly gone down, and that in the morning there would probably be a break in the weather. They smoked for some time, and then the negroes dozed off, with their chins on their chests; and Frank was about to make an effort to do the same, when Hiram, who had been going in and out several times, said suddenly, "I reckon we are out of the main stream; don't you feel the difference?"

Now that his attention was called to it, Frank wondered that he had not noticed it before. The waves were no longer washing over the fore-part of the boat, and the sluggish efforts of the tree and boat to rise and fall with the water had ceased. He was still more struck, when he went outside, by the comparative silence. The wind still whistled overhead and swayed the branches, but the hiss and rustle of the water had ceased.

"We are out of the main stream, that's sartin," Hiram said, "though where we are is more nor I can tell till we get daylight."

Frank took the lantern and climbed up the bough which served as a lookout. It was pitch dark outside, and the surface of the water was no longer broken by white heads.

"Yes, we are certainly out of the main river, Hiram, and in behind some big islands. Where do you think it could be?"

"I reckon, lad, we are somewhere down near the mouth of the Arkansas. The stream has been running mighty strong for the last two days, and the wind, catching all these branches, must have helped us along a good bit. I reekon we can't be far away from the Arkansas. It's a bad stroke of luck drifting in here; we may expect to get hung up somewhere, and we shall be in a nice fix then, out of sight of boats going up and down, and with miles and miles of swamp stretching back from the shore. However, it will be time to think of that to-morrow. There ain't nothing for us to do; just lend us a hand, and we will get this iron plate off the roof. The tarpaulin keeps off the rain, and I will fetch a couple of blankets, and we can stretch ourselves out here; I despise going to sleep sitting up."

Frank was sound asleep in a few minutes. He had a confused notion of feeling a slight jerking motion, and of hearing Hiram say, "There, she is anchored"; but he did not suffer this to rouse him, and, dropping off, slept soundly till morning. At the first stir Hiram made he was awake.

"We have had a goodish spell of sleep, I reckon, lad, and I feel all the better for having had my legs stretched out straight."

"So do I, ever so much; the wind seems to have gone quite down, and it has stopped raining."

"We shall have the sun up soon."

Frank was soon up in the lookout.

"I can see trees on both sides of us, but I can make out nothing more than that; there's a mist hanging over them, though it's clear enough on the water. We are not moving."

"I could have told you that," Hiram said, "didn't we get fast on something before we went to sleep last night?"

"Oh, I forgot about that; I was just off when you spoke, and didn't quite take it in. We are quite out of the current; the water is moving very sluggishly past us."

"So much the worse, lad; that's just what I fancied. We have got blown out of the stream, and got in behind some of the islands, and are perhaps at the mouth of one of the loops where there ain't no stream to speak of; useful enough they are when you are making your way up-stream, but no-account places to get stuck in. Now you darkeys below there, wake up, and let's have some food; you will soon have the sun up to warm you and dry your clothes a bit. By the time we have had our breakfast," he went on to Frank, "the mist will have lifted, and we shall have some chance of seeing where we have been cast away, and can talk over what's the best thing to be done in this here business."

The iron plate was replaced on the cabin, the fire was lit, and coffee and fried bacon were soon ready. The first sparkle of the sun through the leaves brought a shout of delight from the negroes, and directly the meal was over they cut away some of the small branches and let the sun stream in on to the roof of the cabin.

"That's enough, boys," Hiram said; "by midday we shall be glad of the shade. Now, let you and I light our pipes, lad, and take a survey, and then talk this job over."

On looking round, they found that the passage, or creek, in which they were was some eighty yards wide; ahead it seemed to narrow; behind them, a bend shut out the view a quarter of a mile away.

"That's just what I expected. You see we have drove in here, and there's been just current enough to drift us on till the lower branches touched the bottom or caught in a snag; the water ain't flowing half a mile an hour now, and I reckon when the water begins to drop, which will be in a few days, if it holds fine, there won't be no current to speak of."

"But we are not going to stay here a few days, are we, Hiram?"

"Well, lad, I ain't no particular wish to stay here no time at all, if you will just pint out the way for us to be moving on."

"Well, we could all swim ashore," Frank said; "the distance is nothing, and all the blacks swim."

"And how fur do you reckon the shore to be, lad?"

"About forty yards," Frank said.

"I reckon it to be miles, lad—twenty, perhaps, or forty for aught I know."

Frank looked at his companion in surprise.

"Yes, that is about it, lad. Don't you see them trees are all growing out by the water, and what looks to you like low bush is just the top of the underwood. The river, I reckon, must have riz twenty feet, and all this low land is under water. As I told you, we are near the mouth of the Arkansas, and for miles and miles the country ain't much better than a swamp at the best of times. You can swim to them trees, and roost up in the branches, if the fancy takes yer, and may be we may decide that's the best thing to do, when we have talked it over; but as to getting to land, you may put that notion out of your head altogether. I told you, lad, last night, I didn't like the lookout, and I don't like it a bit better this morning, except that I look to be dry and comfortable in another hour. What's to come after that I don't quite see."

Frank was silent. The prospect, now that he understood it, was unpleasant indeed. There they were with a disabled and waterlogged boat, in the middle of a district submerged for many miles, and surrounded beyond that by fever-stricken swamps, while the prospect of any craft happening to come along was remote indeed. For some minutes he smoked his pipe in silence.

"You consider it impossible for us to make our escape through the wood."

"Just unpossible, lad. We might make our way from tree to tree, like a party of monkeys, but we should get to creeks where we couldn't cross; we should be half our time swimming. We could take no food to speak of with us; we should get lost in the swamps, if ever we got through the forest. No, lad; my present idea is it is unpossible, though, if we detarmines at last there ain't nothing else for us to do but to try for it, Hiram Little ain't the man to die without making a hard fight for his life; but I tell you, lad, I looks on it as unpossible. You have been on these banks with me, and you know how thick the trees and bushes grow, so that a snake could hardly make his way through them. When the river is at her level the ground ain't about a foot or two out of water, and when the river falls—and it mayn't fall to its level for weeks—it will just be a swamp of mud."



"Well, in that case," Frank said, "it seems to me that our only chance is to repair the boat."

"That's just my idee, young fellow. There is a biggish hole on each side, the ribs are smashed in, and a lot of damage is done, but we could make a shift to mend it if we could get her ashore; but there ain't no shore to get her to, that's the mischief of it; besides, here we are stuck, and if we were to cut away the tree to loose her she would go straight to the bottom."

"Yes, we mustn't cut her loose before we are alongside something. My idea is that if we first of all cut off all the boughs that are above us, close to the trunk, that will make a good deal of difference in the weight, and we should float higher. Then, with hatchet and saw, we must get rid of those below, taking a rope first to the trees and hauling her closer and closer alongside them as we get rid of the weight, till at last there is only the trunk and these two great arms that have nipped her. I think that way we might get alongside the trees."

"I reckon we might, lad. Yes, I don't see much difficulty about that. And what shall we do when we get there?"

"I should get under a big tree, like that one over there, with that great arm stretching over the stream. We've got plenty of ropes, and I should fasten them from her bow and stern, and from her thwarts, tight to that arm overhead. When I got her fixed, I would chop away one of these arms that grip her, and let her float free. We have no tackle that would be of any use in hoisting her, but if we take the plug out of her bottom, she will empty as the river sinks, and hang there. Once she is in the air there will be no difficulty in patching her up."

"That's a capital idee, young fellow," Hiram exclaimed, giving Frank a mighty pat on the shoulder. "I do believe it is to be done that way. I tell you, I did not see my way out of this fix nohow, but you have hit upon it, by gosh! Here, you darkies, get them axes and saws out of the cabin, and clear away this forest."

An hour's work cleared away all the wood above water. The sun was by this time well above the trees; the negroes woke up to life and cheerfulness in its warmth, and worked vigorously.

"Before we do anything more," Frank said, "I will swim with a light line to that tree, and then haul the tow-rope after me, and make it fast to it; it is possible that when we cut away some of the other boughs the whole affair may turn over and sink, but if the tow-rope is fast we may be able to drag it alongside."

When the rope was attached to the tree, they proceeded with their work. The two great arms were chopped through just beyond the point at which the boat was wedged, thus getting rid of the whole of the upper part of the tree.

"She's free now," Hiram said. "Stand in the middle of the boat, you boys; I can feel that a very little would sway her over now."

The bow sank some inches, and fully half the boat was submerged.

"Now, you and I will get out at this end of the trunk, lad, and tow her in, stern foremost."

They got within ten yards of the tree before she again stuck, and it took them some hours' work to cut away the branch which projected under water; but at last this was done, and the boat was placed in position under the arm of the great tree they had pitched upon, and a number of ropes fastened firmly to the arm.

"Now we will have some dinner," Hiram said; "and while Pete is cooking it we will get ashore with the saw and cut the heads off some of these small trees, and fasten them to this trunk, so as to make a sort of raft that we can put all these tubs on. The ropes would never hold her with her cargo on board. I reckon some of the sugar is spoilt; but the boss always has good casks, and may be there ain't much damage done. The rum is right enough, and I reckon there won't be much spoilt except them bales of calico."

They worked hard, but it was late in the evening before the raft was formed and the cargo all shifted into it.

"Now, we will just chop off this arm and free her," Hiram said, "and then we can stretch ourselves out for the night. We have done a tidy day's work, I reckon, and have arned our sleep."