s have you to think, Sir? You're a boy, Sir--a school-boy, Sir!
Are you going to dispute with me in my own house? I take back my
permission. Go, both of you! and never let me see your faces again!"

The old man stood pointing with his cane toward the door.

"Go, both of you!" repeated he, fiercely. It was impossible to resist;
and Abel and Gabriel moved slowly toward the door. The former was furious
at finding himself doomed in company with Gabriel. But he betrayed
nothing. He was preternaturally calm. Hope, dismayed and pale, stood
looking on, but saying nothing. Gabriel went quietly out of the room.
Abel turned to the door, and bowed gravely to Hope.

"Remember, Sir," cried the old man, "I take back my permission!"

"I understand, Sir," replied Abel, bowing to him also.

He closed the door; and as he did so it seemed to Hope Wayne as if the
sunshine were extinguished.

CHAPTER XII.

HELP, HO!

Abel Newt was fully aware that his time was short. His father's letter
had apprised him of his presently leaving school. To leave school--was
it not to quit Delafield? Might it not be to lose Hope Wayne? He was
banished from Pinewood. There were flaming swords of suspicion waving
over that flowery gate. The days were passing. The summer is ending,
thought he, and I am by no means saved.

Neither he nor Gabriel had mentioned their last visit to Pinewood and its
catastrophe. It was a secret better buried in their own bosoms. Abel's
dislike of the other was deepened and imbittered by the ignominy of the
expulsion by Mr. Burt, of which Gabriel had been not only a companion but
a witness. It was an indignity that made Abel tingle whenever he thought
of it. He fancied Gabriel thinking of it too, and laughing at him in his
sleeve, and he longed to thrash him. But Gabriel had much better
business. He was thinking only of Hope Wayne, and laughing at himself
for thinking of her.

The boys were strolling in different parts of the village. Abel, into
whose mind had stolen that thought of the possible laughter in Gabriel's
sleeve, pulled out his handkerchief suddenly, and waved it with an
indignant movement in the air. At the same moment a carriage had
overtaken him and was passing. The horses, startled by the shock of the
waving handkerchief, shied and broke into a run. The coachman tried in
vain to control them. They sprang forward and had their heads in a
moment.

Abel looked up, and saw that it was the Burt carriage