"You have been a very bad boy," replied Mr. Presby.
"I am very sorry for it, and I mean to do better."
"I hope you will, my dear boy. Your father has suffered terribly since I returned, and poor Bertha has done nothing but weep for the last two hours. You are ruining yourself and wounding the hearts of your friends more than words can describe."
"I will try to do better."
"Your father will not trust you again."
"What is he going to do?"
"He will inform you himself," replied Mr. Presby, as he withdrew from the room.
Richard was alone with his own thoughts and fears. He felt as though his career had reached its close, though he could not imagine what terrible thing his father intended to do. He was really sorry for what he had done, whether his sorrow was caused by a genuine feeling that he had done wrong, or by the fear of punishment.
His mind was in a confused state; the past with its sorrows, and the future with its terrors, whirled through his brain. He wanted time for reflection, and leaving the house, he walked down to the pier to deliberate upon the situation.
Ben was there, and Richard began to question him, for Mr. Presby had intimated that the boatman was with him the night before. From him he learned all the facts in regard to their movements. It appeared that the old gentleman had heard Richard when he opened the window, and had watched him closely, fully satisfied, however, that he was asleep.