Hugh, on the other hand, was more and more angry every minute.  The indignity he had suffered was not to be tamely submitted to.  He got into the boat and took his oar; he looked back and saw Mark commencing work again; the temptation was too strong.  He picked up one of the largest of the stones that Mark had emptied into the shallow margin of the pond; he threw it with all his force, and hurriedly pushed off from shore without stopping to ascertain the extent of the mischief he had done.  He knew that the stone did not miss, for he saw Mark fall heavily to the ground, and that was enough.  The injury was serious.  Mark was carried to the farm-house and was confined to his bed for six weeks with a brain fever, being delirious for the greater part of the time.  Hugh Branning found the town quite uncomfortable; the eyes of all the people he met seemed to scorch him.  He was bold and self-reliant; but no man can stand up singly against the indignation of a whole community.  He went on a visit to Boston, and not long after, to the exceeding grief of his mother, entered the navy.

When Mark was recovering, Mr. Rook, the clergyman, called and offered to aid him in his college course, if he would agree to study for the ministry.  But the young man declined the proposal, because he thought himself unfitted for the sacred calling.

“No,” he added, with a smile, “I’m not made for an evangelist; not much like the beloved disciple at all events, but rather like peppery Peter,—­ ready, if provoked, to whisk off an ignoble ear.”

Mr. Rook returned home sorrowful; and at the next meeting of the sewing-circle the unfortunate Mark received a full share of attention; for the offer of aid came partly from this society.  When this matter had been the talk of the village for a day or two, Squire Kinloch made some errand to the house where Mark was.  What passed between them the young man did not choose to relate, but he showed his Uncle Hardwick the Squire’s check for two hundred and fifty dollars, and told him he should receive a similar sum each year until he finished his collegiate course.

The promise was kept; the yearly supply was furnished; and Mark graduated with honor, having given notes amounting to a thousand dollars.  With cheerful alacrity he commenced teaching in a popular seminary, intending to pay his debts before studying a profession.

CHAPTER V.

It was Saturday night, and Mr. Hardwick was closing his shop.  A customer was just leaving, his horse’s feet newly rasped and white, and a sack of harrow-teeth thrown across his back.  The boys, James and Milton, had been putting a load of charcoal under cover, for the wind was southerly and there were signs of rain.  Of course they had become black enough with coal-dust,—­not a streak of light was visible, except around their eyes.  They were capering about and contemplating each other’s face with uproarious delight, while the blacksmith, though internally chuckling at their antics, preserved a decent gravity, and prepared to go to his house.  He drew a bucket of water, and bared his muscular arms, then, after washing them, soused his curly hair and begrimed face, and came out wonderfully brightened by the operation.  The boys continued their sports, racing, wrestling, and putting on grotesque grimaces.