After running a mile, to use a sea
phrase, I hove to, and began to compose, in my mind, an oration which
I intended to pronounce before my father, by way of apology for
my sudden and unexpected appearance; but I was interrupted by the
detested usher and half a dozen of the senior boys, among whom was
Tom Crauford. Coming behind me as I sat on a stile, they cut short my
meditations by a tap on the shoulder, collared and marched me to the
right about in double quick time. Tom Crauford was one of those
who held me, and outdid himself in zealous invective at my base
ingratitude in absconding from the best of masters, and the most
affectionate, tender, and motherly of all school-dames.
The usher swallowed all this, and I soon made him swallow a great deal
more. We passed near the side of a pond, the shoals and depths of
which were well known to me. I looked at Tom out of the corner of my
eye, and motioned him to let me go; and, like a mackerel out of a
fisherman's hand, I darted into the water, got up to my middle, and
then very coolly, for it was November, turned round to gaze at my
escort, who stood at bay, and looked very much like fools. The usher,
like a low bred cur, when he could no longer bully, began to fawn;
he entreated and he implored me to think on "my papa and mamma; how
miserable they would be, if they could but see me; what an increase of
punishment I was bringing on myself by such obstinacy." He held out
by turns coaxes and threats; in short, everything but an amnesty, to
which I considered myself entitled, having been driven to rebellion by
the most cruel persecution.
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