by the effect of a liberal supper and the roguish consciousness of
having been to the play. He saw and recognized Cashel as he
approached the village pound. Understanding the situation at once,
he hid behind the pump, waited until the unsuspecting truant was
passing within arm's-length, and then stepped out and seized him by
the collar of his jacket.

"Well, sir," he said. "What are you doing here at this hour? Eh?"

Cashel, scared and white, looked up at him, and could not answer a
word.

"Come along with me," said Wilson, sternly.

Cashel suffered himself to be led for some twenty yards. Then he
stopped and burst into tears.

"There is no use in my going back," he said, sobbing. "I have never
done any good there. I can't go back."

"Indeed," said Wilson, with magisterial sarcasm. "We shall try to
make you do better in future." And he forced the fugitive to resume
his march.

Cashel, bitterly humiliated by his own tears, and exasperated by a
certain cold triumph which his captor evinced on witnessing them,
did not go many steps farther without protest.

"You needn't hold me," he said, angrily; "I can walk without being
held." The master tightened his grasp and pushed his captive