squire was a very kind-hearted one. He was shocked to find that the boy
was a liar, and that, to shield himself, he had invented this falsehood
against his opponent; but upon reflection, he acknowledged that he
himself had been to blame in the matter. He had taken the boy into his
house, had assigned to him the position of his heir, and had paid no
further attention to him.

Unfortunately, the man he had selected as his tutor had proved false to
the trust. The boy had been permitted to run wild, his head was turned
with the change in his prospects, his faults had grown unchecked. It
was to be said for him that he had not intended, in the first place, to
bring his opponent into disgrace by making this false accusation
against him, for his tutor had acknowledged that he had said he did not
intend to tell him, or to take any step in the matter, and his position
of accuser had been, to some extent, forced upon him by the necessity
of his confirming the tale, which he had told to account for his being
thrashed by a boy smaller than himself.

Yes, it would be unfair upon the boy utterly to cast him off for this
first offence. He would give him one more trial.

The result of the squire's reflection was that, on the third day of his
imprisonment, Richard was sent for to the study. The squire did not
motion to him to sit down, and he remained standing with, as the squire
said to himself, a hang-dog look upon his face.

"I have been thinking over this matter quietly, Richard, for I did not
wish to come to any hasty conclusion. My first impulse was to pack you
off home, and have no more to do with you, but I have thought better of
it. Mean and despicable as your conduct has been, I take some blame to