arrest the proceedings and refer the case to arbitration, but Sir Roger
would not agree to this. He was once more in his element, he was before
the world,--the newspapers were full of him, and, better than all, in
attack and reprobation. He had demanded to be put on the table as
a witness, and they who saw, it is said, never forgot the insolent
defiance of public opinion that he on that day displayed; how boldly he
paraded opinions in opposition to every sense of right and justice, and
how openly he avowed his principle of education to be--to strip off from
youth every delusion as to the existence of truth and honor in life, and
to teach a child, from his earliest years, that trickery and falsehood
were the daily weapons of mankind, and that he who would not consent to
be the dupe of his fellow-men must be their despot and their persecutor.
If he had the satisfaction of outraging the feelings of all in court,
and insulting every sense of propriety and decorum, he paid heavily for
the brief triumph. The judge delivered a most stern denunciation of
his doctrines, and declared that no case had ever come before the court
where so little hesitation existed as to the judgment to be pronounced.
The sentence was that, up to the age of twelve, the child was to be
confided to the mother's charge; after which period the court would, on
application, deliberate and determine on the future guardianship.

"Will you leave me, Digby?" asked the father; and his lips trembled,
and his cheek blanched as he uttered the words. The boy sprang into his
arms, and kissed him wildly and passionately; and the two clung to each
other in close embrace, and their mingled sobs echoed through the now
silent court. "You see, my Lord, you see--" cried the father; but the
boy's struggles were choking him, and, with his own emotions, would not
suffer him to continue. His sufferings were now real, and a murmur ran
through the court that showed how public feeling was trembling in the
balance. The bustle of a new cause that was coming on soon closed the
scene. The child was handed over to an officer of the court, while the
mother's friends concerted together, and all was over.

Over as regarded the first act of a life-long drama; and ere the curtain
rises, it only remains to say that the cause which that day decided was
mine, and that I, who write this, was the boy "Digby Norcott."

CHAPTER II. WITH MY MOTHER

My mother lived in a little cottage at