aying, Forester parted from Marco and went into the house. Marco
slowly walked into the office, and through it into the little study.
He was greatly perplexed to know what to make of this address. "Can
it be," thought he, "that he knows that I went away this morning? How
could he have found it out? Or did he say that, only to find out now
whether I have been honest or not heretofore?"

On mature reflection, Marco concluded that Forester did not probably
know any thing about his having gone away. He thought that what he had
just said was only a part of Forester's general plan of managing
his case, and that it did not imply that Forester entertained any
particular suspicions. Marco thought that he might therefore safely go
a-fishing that afternoon if he was disposed; but we must do him the
justice to say, that he did not entertain the idea of doing it a
moment. He determined that he would not go. But as he was not prepared
to confess his fault, and as he had no question to ask, he determined
to go and play about the garden. He thought a little of waiting till
his cousin came in, and then honestly making a confession; but he
could not quite conclude upon this, and so he determined to go and
think more of it. Besides, he concluded that if he were going to make
a confession at all, he should rather do it that evening when he went
to bed; for Forester always came up to his room after he went to bed,
to have a little friendly and serious conversation with him, and to
bid him good night.

He accordingly went out before Forester came in. He spent the
afternoon in a miserable state of mind. He could not divest himself of
the feeling of anxiety, that in some way or other, Forester had found
out his transgression. He rather wondered, that, if it were true that
Forester had found it out, he had not said something to him directly
about it,--but then he knew it was Forester's way not always to make
known, at once, all that he knew in such cases. But then he thought,
again, that Forester _could_ not know any thing about it. There
was no way for him to have known it. He was away all the morning, and
did not come home until after Marco got back. So he concluded that
Forester did not know; but he began to wish that he did. He could not
bear to think of telling him, but he wished that he knew. The burden
of such a secret became intolerable to him. He strolled about the
yards and garden, not knowing what to do with himself, and growing all