f my keepers. You
see the condition to which you have reduced yourself."

He then gave some orders to one of the keepers, which I did not hear;
and without further noticing me he walked on, while they led me away
towards Fetherston Abbey, his lordship's residence. I need scarcely say
that my feelings were very wretched, and full of shame; and yet perhaps
I would rather it should thus have happened, than that I should have
been compelled to go back to my father. It was perhaps somewhat of a
consolation to feel that I was being justly punished, and yet not by my
father's hand. I don't know that I thought this at the time, but I know
that I did afterwards. And then, when days had passed, and many other
events had occurred, I felt very grateful that Providence had thus
disposed of me, and had preserved me from a fate which in all human
probability would have been mine had I this time escaped with impunity.

Lord Fetherston was a magistrate, and consequently in the Abbey there
was a strong room, in which, on occasion, prisoners were locked up
before they were carried off to jail. Into this room I was led, and
with a heavy heart I heard the key turned in the lock, and found myself
alone. If I had wished to escape I could not; and there were no books,
or other means of amusement, so that I was left to my own reflections.
A servant, who would not answer any questions, brought me in some
dinner, which I could scarcely taste; and at night a small bed,
ready-made, was brought in, and I was again left to myself. Two days
thus passed away: my obstinate spirit was completely broken, and I must
say that I truly had repented of all my folly and idleness. On the
third day the door opened, and my father appeared. He looked very sad,
but not angry. He took a chair and sat down, while I stood before him.
For more than a minute he could not speak.

"Peter," he at length said, "I do not come to reproach you: the grief I
and your mother feel, and what you will have to endure henceforth, will
be, I trust, sufficient punishment. We must part with you, my son; we
have no choice. You must go to foreign lands, and there retrieve your
name, and, I trust, improve and strengthen your character. You have
placed yourself and me in Lord Fetherston's power. He insists on it,
that you shall forthwith be sent to sea; and on that condition he
promises to overlook all that has occurred. He did not even speak
harshly of you; and I am fain to