As these thoughts passed through his mind, a feeling of recklessness
came over him, and he said aloud--

"I don't care what I do!"

"Don't you, indeed?"

The voice that uttered this sentence caused him to start. It was the
voice of his father, who had left his room soon after the expulsion
of Andrew, and was at the moment passing near, unobserved by the
boy.

"Don't care what you do, ha!" repeated Mr. Howland, standing in
front of the lad, and looking him sternly in the face. "You've
spoken the truth for once!"

For nearly a minute Mr. Howland stood with contracted brows,
scowling upon the half-frightened child. He then walked away, deeply
troubled and perplexed in his mind.

"What is to become of this boy?" he said to himself. "He really
seems to be one of those whom Satan designs to have, that he might
sift them as wheat. I sadly fear that he is given over to a hard
heart, and a perverse mind--one predestinated, to evil from his
birth. Ah me! Have I not done, and am I not still doing everything
to restrain him and save him! But precept, admonition, and
punishment, all seem, thrown away. Even my daily prayers for him
remain unanswered. They rise no higher than my head. What more can I
do than I am now doing? I have tried in every way to break his