“I zsay he has!” replied my father furiously. “He’n Waddie blowed up the canal boat. Then Wolf denied it, and insulted his best friends. Then he went off and run that dummy.”
“Don’t say anything, mother,” said I to her, in a low tone.
“What’s that?” demanded my father, suspiciously. “What did you say, Wolf? Do you mean to insult me, as you did Colonel Wimp’ton?”
But I will not follow this unpleasant scene any further in detail. It was evident that my father had seen the magnate of Centreport, and that the great man had won him over. He was stormy, violent, and suspicious. He was angry with me, and then with my mother for speaking a word in my defence. Finally he wept like a child, declaring that his family had turned against him; and, overwhelmed by this maudlin grief, he went upstairs and threw himself upon my bed. I think he intended to occupy the spare chamber on the other side of the entry, for he was so angry with my mother and me that he was intent upon getting away from us.
We decided that it would be best to let him alone. He lay sobbing on the bed for a time, and then dropped asleep. My mother went in, and, having assured herself that he was in a comfortable position, took away the lamp. She and I sat up till midnight, talking over the bitter prospect before us. In his cups my father was another man. My mother told me with tears in her eyes, that he had abused her when he used to drink before. In his intoxication he seemed to hate the family he loved so well when he was sober.
At midnight he was still sleeping off the effects of his debauch, and we retired, hoping for better things in the morning. I was so tired that I went to sleep very soon. I occupied the spare chamber on the second floor, while my mother’s room was downstairs. I do not know how long I had slept, but I was awakened by a violent noise in the opposite side of the house, which seemed to come from the apartment where my father was. I was startled, and immediately leaped out of bed, lighted a lamp, and hastily put on my clothes. Hearing my father’s voice in excited tones, I rushed to the room with the lamp in my hand. I feared that the liquor he had drunk had in some manner affected his brain, and induced a delirium.
I opened the door. I saw my father standing over the prostrate form of Waddie Wimpleton. The window was wide open, and I heard voices outside, as of other boys effecting a hasty retreat. Waddie lay still upon the floor, and his face was covered with blood.
“What is the matter, father?” I asked, terrified at the strange sight which I beheld.
“Don’t you see what the matter is?” replied my father; but he seemed to be very much confused.
“What has happened?”