"Frank!" shouted Captain Sedley, who was at the helm, while Uncle Ben was gazing at them with a very sorrowful face from the half deck.
"Ay, ay, sir!" replied Frank, as he laid the Zephyr's course towards the sailboat.
Though his father had only spoken his name, there was something in the tone which could not be misapprehended; but it did not occur to him, he was so engaged in thinking of the incidents at the bridge, that he had disobeyed his father's command in passing into the river.
As the Zephyr approached, the Sylph luffed, and came up into the wind, to wait for her. Frank brought his boat round under the stern of the sailboat, and "lay to" an oar's length from her.
"Frank," said his father, sternly, "I am surprised that you should venture among those rocks, when I have expressly forbidden you ever to go into the river."
"But, father, there was—"
"How could you do such a thing, after I had so carefully warned you—so positively interdicted it? Suppose your boat had been dashed in pieces," continued Captain Sedley, who, though deeply grieved at his son's apparent disobedience, was too indignant to hear an excuse; for such he supposed Frank was about to offer—one of those silly, frivolous excuses which boys sometimes seize upon to palliate their misconduct.
"I protested against it!" said Charles Hardy, rising from his seat.
"Shut up!" exclaimed Little Paul, his cheek glowing with indignation, as he pulled Charles back into his seat.
"I went to save life, father," replied Frank, almost choked by his emotions, a flood of tears springing in his eyes and well-nigh blinding him.