by your own fireside."

But Zebedee, though perfectly good-humored, was by no means to be
persuaded: he continued to laugh and writhe about as if the fact of his
detention was merely a good joke on Adam's part, the lookers-on abetting
and applauding his determination, until Adam's temper could restrain
itself no longer, and with no very pleasant explosion of wrath he let go
his hold and intimated that his father was free to take what course
pleased him most.

"That's right, lad!" exclaimed old Zebedee heartily, shaking himself
together. "You'm a good son and a capital sailor-man, but you'm pore
company, Adam--verra pore company."

And with this truism (to which a general shout gave universal assent)
ringing in his ears, Adam strode away up the street with all possible
speed, and was standing in front of the house-door when he was suddenly
struck by the thought of what had become of Eve. Since they had halted
in front of the Three Pilchards he had seen nothing of her: she had
disappeared, and in all probability had made her way home.

The thought of having to confront her caused him to hesitate: should he
go in? What else could he do? where had he to go? So, with a sort of
desperation, he pushed open the door and found himself within the
sitting-room. It was empty; the fire had burnt low, the wick of the
unsnuffed candle had grown long; evidently Eve had not returned; and
with an undefined mixture of regret and relief Adam sat down, leaned his
arms on the table and laid his head upon them.

During the whole day the various excitements he had undergone had so
kept his mind on the stretch that its powers of keen susceptibility
seemed now thoroughly exhausted, and in place of the acute pain he had
previously suffered there had come a dull, heavy weight of despair,
before which his usual force and determination seemed vanquished and
powerless. The feeling uppermost was a sense of the injustice inflicted
on him--that he, who in practice and principle was so far removed above
his neighbors, should be made to suffer for their follies and misdeeds,
should have to bear the degradation of their vices. As to any hope of
reclaiming them, he had long ago given that up, though not without a
certain disappointment in the omniscience of that Providence which could
refuse the co-operation of his valuable agency.

Adam suffered from that strong belief in himself which is apt, when
carried to excess, to throw a shadow on the highest