“No, I don’t mean to say that.”
“Well, I want to know whether you are going or not,” demanded the scion.
“Shall I go, mother?” I asked, appealing to her.
“I think you had better go, Wolfert.”
“Then I will go.”
“You had better,” continued Waddie, who could not help bullying even after his point was gained.
The gentlemanly young man left the house, and my mother admonished me again not to be saucy, and to return good for evil. I hoped I should be able to do so. If I failed, it would not be for the want of a good intention. I walked up the road towards the mansion of the great man, thinking what I should say, and how I could best defend myself from the charge which was again to be urged against me. The situation looked very hopeless to me as I jumped over the fence in the grove, through which there was a path which led to the house of the colonel.
“Here he is,” said Waddie, accompanying the remark with a yell not unlike an Indian war-whoop.
I halted and turned around. Behind me stood the scion of the great house of Centreport, with a club in his hand, and attended by half a dozen of the meanest fellows of the Institute, armed in like manner. They had been concealed behind the fence; and of course I instantly concluded that the colonel’s message was a mere trick to decoy me into the grove.
“Do you wish to see me?” I asked as coolly as I could; and the circumstances under which we appeared to meet were not favorable to a frigid demeanor.