The Judge would certainly take him over the river, and so home, but in his frank and ingenuous nature how could he face him on his almost ignominious return?  He stood still, a little away from the carriage-track, half wishing he might not be seen.  He was seen, however, and a close observer might have discovered the half sneer on the otherwise handsome and manly face of the Judge, who had taken in the situation.  The horses were held in a walk as they came down near where the young man stood, with a half ashamed, yet eager, expression of countenance, and turned partly away, as if he expected—­in fact, wished for nothing.

“What are you doing here?” called out the Judge.

It was not a wholly courteous inquiry, and scarcely necessary, though not purposely offensive; but the tone and manner struck like an insult on the young man’s sensitive spirit, and his answer went back a little sharply: 

“I am waiting for the river to run by,”

“Ah!  I see.  Well, I am glad you have found something that suits you.”

There was no mistaking the sarcasm of this remark, and perhaps its sting was deeper than was meant.  The Judge was not an unkind man, though he did not relish the reply to his question; he held up his horses on the margin of the water, and perhaps he wanted to be asked by this pert youth for the favor of a passage over.  Of course the petition was not, and never would have been made.  He lingered a moment, and without another word entered the river, and, turning his horses’ heads up stream for a short distance, drove out on the other side; as he turned into the regular track again, he caught a view of the young man standing impassive on the same spot where he first saw him.

It is possible that Judge Markham, the most wealthy and popular man of his region, did not feel wholly at ease as, with his fine team and empty carriage, he drove away, leaving the weary, travel-stained youth standing on the other side of the river; and it is possible that the form of the deserted one may be brought to his memory in the hereafter.

“‘Something that suits me’—­’something that suits me!’ All right, Judge Markham!” and as the carriage was hidden in the woods, the waters that rolled on between them were as nothing to the bitter, swelling tide that, for a moment, swept through the young man’s bosom.  He was undecided no longer.

Removing his boots and stockings, he entered the river at the point, and, following the course taken by the Judge, he passed out, and resumed his journey homeward.

As he walked rapidly onward, the momentary bitterness subsided.  He was not one to hate, or cherish animosities, but he was capable of deep impressions, and of forming strong resolutions.  There was a chord of melancholy running through his nature, which, under excitement, often vibrated the longest; and almost any strong emotion left behind a tone of sadness that lingered for hours, and sometimes for days, although his mind was normally buoyant and hopeful.