"Come back," called his father, not risking his dignity in a doubtful
pursuit, but using such a tone that few would dare to disobey the
command.

"Suppose I don't choose to come back," answered Ned, to whose head the
very devil had now certainly mounted. "Maybe there's other places to
go to, where one doesn't have to stand by and see an upstart beggar
preferred to himself, and put in his place, and fed on the best while
he's lying hungry in his dark room."

"If there's another place for you, I'd advise you to find it," said
Mr. Faringfield, after a moment's reflection.

"Oh, I'll find it," was the reply; and then came what Master Ned knew
would be the crowning taunt and insult to his father. "If it comes to
the worst, I know how I can get to England, where I'd rather be,
anyway."

There was a reason why Mr. Faringfield's face turned dark as a
thunder-cloud at this. You must know, first, that in him alone was
embodied the third generation of colonial Faringfields. The founder of
the American branch of the family, having gone pretty nearly to the
dogs at home, and got into close quarters with the law, received from
his people the alternative of emigrating to Virginia or suffering
justice to take its course. Tossing up his last sixpence, he
indifferently observed, on its coming down, that it lay in favour of
Virginia. So he chose emigration, and was shipped off, upon condition
that if he ever again set foot in England he should be forthwith
turned over to the merciless law. His relations, as he perceived,