"I would give the world if I had never deceived him," moaned the grief-stricken son.
"It was all for the best. Your father has passed away full of years and honors. It is well as it is."
"No, no, Tom! It was all wrong."
"You have only saved him from misery, which might have killed him years ago, for the doctor says he had a disease of the heart. Don't reproach yourself, Ned."
"Where is the boy—Robert?" he asked suddenly. "I have wronged him still more. Where is he?"
"I don't know. I haven't seen him since we left the boat."
"Go for him, Tom. Bring him back. He shall not suffer this wrong another hour. He is a noble little fellow, and I am proud of him. Bring him back."
Tom went to the wharf in the carriage, but the Skylark was three miles down the bay, on her way to Camden. It was of no use to chase that boat, and the messenger returned to his weeping friend.
"Go to him, Tom; tell him all, and bring him back," said Colonel Montague; and his friend took the next steamer for Camden.
Little Bobtail had sailed as soon as the invalid was landed, for he was anxious to be at home when the Eagle arrived. He had been up all night, while Monkey had slept in the cook-room; and as soon as the Skylark was clear of the harbor, the skipper gave the helm to the Darwinian, and turned in. He was sleeping heavily in the cabin of the yacht, while the telegraph wires were flashing all over the state the intelligence of the death of the Hon. Mr. Montague. The wind was light, so that the Skylark made a long passage: and Monkey did not wake the skipper till the yacht was off North-east Point. He had slept five hours, and felt like a new man. He went on shore as soon as the boat came up to the wharf, and ascertained that the Eagle had not yet arrived. Walking up to the cottage, he found his mother sitting on the front doorstep, in the shade, sewing.