oceeded, he warmed up enough to forget the
fire, and ceased to dread the rebuke of Bertha; but when all was
over,--when the clown had made his last wry face, and the great American
acrobat had achieved his last gyration, Bertha and the fire came back to
him with increased power. Moody and sullen, he walked down to the river
with Fanny, who, under ordinary circumstances, would have been too proud
to walk through the streets of Whitestone with him. If he had been
alone, it is quite probable that he would have taken to the woods, so
much did he dread to return to Woodville.

He pushed off the boat, and for some time he pulled in silence, for Miss
Fanny now appeared to have her own peculiar trials. Her conscience
seemed to have found a voice, and she did not speak till the boat had
reached the lower end of Van Alstine's Island.

"The fire is all out now," said she.

"Yes; but I would give a thousand dollars to know how it caught," added
Noddy.

"I know," continued Fanny, looking down into the bottom of the boat.

"Who did it?" demanded Noddy, eagerly.

"I did it myself," answered Fanny, looking up into his face to note the
effect of the astonishing confession.

CHAPTER III.

A MORAL QUESTION.

Noddy dropped his oars, and, with open mouth and staring eyes, gazed
fixedly in silence at his gentle companion, who had so far outstripped
him in making mischief as to set fire to a building. It was too much for
him, and he found it impossible to comprehend the depravity of Miss
Fanny. He would not have dared to do such a thing himself, and it was
impossible to believe that she had done so tremendous a deed.

"I don't believe it," said he; and the words burst from him with
explosive force, as soon as he could find a tongue to express himself.

"I did," replied Fanny, gazing at him with a kind of blank look, which
would have assured a more expert reader of the human face than Noddy
Newman that she had come to a realizing sense of the magnitude of the
mischief she had done.

"No, you didn't, Miss Fanny!" exclaimed her incredulous friend. "I know
you didn't do that; you couldn't do it."

"But I did; I wouldn't say I did if I didn't."

"Well, that beats me all to pieces!" added Noddy, bending forward in his
seat, and looking sharply into her face, in search of any indications
that she was making fun of him, or was engaged in perpetrating a joke.

Certainly there was no indication of a want of seriousness on the