heart upon going; and she happened to be too wilful,
just at that period, to submit to the disappointment to which her
father's convenience or his principles doomed her. Bertha had gone to
the city at an early hour in the morning to spend the day with a friend,
and Fanny decided that she would go to the circus, in spite of all
obstacles, and in the face of her father's implied prohibition. When she
had proceeded far enough to rebel, in her own heart, against the will of
her father, the rest of the deed was easily accomplished.

Noddy had never been to a circus; and when Fanny told him what it
was,--how men rode standing up on their horses; how they turned
somersets, and played all sorts of antics on the tight rope and the
slack rope; and, above all, what funny things the clowns said and
did,--he was quite ready to do almost anything to procure so rare a
pleasure as witnessing such a performance must afford him. It did not
require any persuasion to induce him to assist Fanny in her
disobedience. The only obstacle which had presented itself was his
morning work in the boat-house, which Bertha's departure for the city
had prevented him from doing at an earlier hour.

To prevent Ben from suspecting that they were on the water, in case they
should happen to be missed, he had borrowed a boat and placed it at the
Point, where they could embark without being seen, if Ben or any of the
servants happened to be near the pier. The boatman, who made it his
business to see that Noddy did his work on time in the morning, did not
neglect his duty on this occasion; and when Noddy started to meet Fanny
at the appointed place, he had been called back, as described in the
first chapter.

As he pulled towards Whitestone, he watched the flames that rose from
the boat-house; and he had, for the time, lost all his enthusiasm about
the circus. He could think only of the doubtful position in which his
impulsive words to the boatman placed him. Above all things,--and all
his doubts and fears culminated in this point,--what would Miss Bertha
say? He did not care what others said, except so far as their words went
to convince his mistress of his guilt. What would she do to him?

But, after all had been said and done, he was not guilty. He had not set
the boat-house on fire, and he did not even know who had done the
malicious act. Noddy regarded this as a very happy thought; and while
the reflection had a place in his mind, he pulled the oars wit