I really knew not what was to become of me; for I
had still the boyish fear of returning home; standing in awe of the
stern temper of my father, and dreading the ready arm of the pedagogue.
And even if I were to venture home, what was I to do with Columbine? I
could not take her in my hand, and throw myself on my knees, and crave
his forgiveness and his blessing according to dramatic usage. The very
dogs would have chased such a draggle-tailed beauty from the grounds.
In the midst of my doleful dumps, some one tapped me on the shoulder,
and looking up I saw a couple of rough sturdy fellows standing behind
me. Not knowing what to expect I jumped on my legs, and was preparing
again to make battle; but I was tripped up and secured in a twinkling.
"Come, come, young master," said one of the fellows in a gruff, but
good-humored tone, "don't let's have any of your tantrums; one would
have thought that you had had swing enough for this bout. Come, it's
high time to leave off harlequinading, and go home to your father."
In fact I had a couple of Bow street officers hold of me. The cruel
Sacharissa had proclaimed who I was, and that a reward had been offered
throughout the country for any tidings of me; and they had seen a
description of me that had been forwarded to the police office in town.
Those harpies, therefore, for the mere sake of filthy lucre, were
resolved to deliver me over into the hands of my father and the
clutches of my pedagogue.
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