at night. He did not dare to speak about it to his mother,
for he knew that she would refuse her consent. He must _run
away_! He formed a hundred different plans, and was forced to
abandon them. Now Will Manton was gone, there was no one with
whom he could consult. He was afraid to speak of it, lest it
should reach the ears of his mother. Alone he nursed his
resolution, and formed his plans.

He was very unhappy, because he knew that he was purposing
wrong. He could not be contented with his employment, and he
knew how it would grieve the hearts of those who loved him, if
he should persist in his design. Yet, when he pictured to
himself the freedom from restraint, the pleasure of roaming from
place to place over the world, and the thousand exciting scenes
and adventures which he should meet by becoming a sailor, he
determined, at all hazards, to make the attempt.

Unhappy boy! He was sowing, for his own reaping, the seeds of a
bitter harvest of wretchedness and remorse.

CHAPTER III.

RODNEY IN NEW YORK.

On a beautiful Sabbath morning in July, Rodney stood in the hall of
the old Dutch house in which successive generations of the family
had been born, and paused to look the last farewell, he dare not
speak, upon those who loved him, and whom, notwithstanding his
waywardness, he also loved.

There sat his pious and venerable grandmother, with the little
round stand before her, upon which lay the old family Bible,
over which she was intently bending, reading and commenting to
herself, as was her custom, in half-audible tones. He had often
stood behind her, and listened, unobserved, as she read verse
after verse, and paused after each, to testify of its truth, or
piously apply it to herself and others. And now he thought that,
in all probability, he would never see her again, and he half
repented his determination. But his preparations were all made,
and he could not now hesitate, lest his purpose should be
discovered.

He looked at his mother, as she was arranging the dress of a
younger and only brother, for the Sabbath-school. As she leaned
over him, and smoothed down the collar she had just fastened
round his neck, Rodney, with heart and eye, bade farewell to
both.

He stood and gazed for a moment upon his only sister, who sat
with her baby in her arms, answering the little laughing
prattler in a language that sounded like its own, and which
certainly none but the two could understand. Some might d