“Leave him to the divine Providence,” reverently replied the rector.
Abel Force ground his teeth; he felt more like becoming a volunteer instrument of the vengeance of divine Providence.
“A Christian would curb his passion and let the evildoer go his way,” continued the rector.
“Then I am a sinner!” exclaimed Le, who had been turning red and white with every ebb and flow of emotion.
“A yielding to anger always tends to make bad worse,” said Dr. Peters.
“Uncle,” said Le—who always, it will be remembered, addressed his relative by this title—“have you any more commands for me?”
“No, my boy; I only wished you to stay to hear this telegram, if it should come. You have heard it, and now I will relieve you.”
“Yes, I have heard it! I have heard it! Good-day, uncle! Good-day, Dr. Peters!” said the young man, rising.
“When will you be back, Le?” inquired Mr. Force.
“Some time this evening, I hope, sir; but don’t wait for me,” replied the midshipman, and, with another bow, he left the room.