“I should be very glad to take either of the places you offer me, but I cannot, sir. Major Toppleton has done the handsome thing for me and for my father, and I think you would despise me if I turned against him.” He continued to press the matter with so much earnestness that I came to think I was of a great deal more importance in the world than I really was. But I was steadfast in my allegiance to the friend who had served our family when we were in distress. I pulled the boat up to the steps in front of the colonel’s house, and assisted him to get out. He invited me to go in with him, but I declined. “Now, Wolf, I’m not going to let this affair pass off without doing something for you. I feel that you have saved my life,” said he, as I seated myself at the oars. “It’s all right as it is, sir.” “No, it isn’t. You will hear from me again soon.” I gave way at the oars, and he walked towards his house. I had conquered him, and it was certainly very remarkable that I had, at this moment, both the mighty men as my friends, though my relations with Tommy Toppleton threatened to make a breach with one of them. I felt that I had carried out the spirit of my mother’s instructions, and I ought not to be blamed for thinking very kindly of myself, because I had discharged my Christian duty to one who had taught me to be his enemy. In this frame of mind I pulled back to the Grace, and leaped upon deck. “What have you been doing, Wolf?” demanded a stern voice, as a tall form emerged from the cabin. Whew! It was Major Toppleton! I could not imagine what had brought him out of his bed at that unseasonable hour; and I was speechless with astonishment. “What have you been doing, Wolf?” repeated he; and I saw that all hands had been called. “I have just landed Colonel Wimpleton at his house, sir,” I replied, with due deference. “And you have been entertaining my greatest enemy in my yacht--have you?” added the major, in a tone which seemed to threaten the pleasant relations that had thus far subsisted between us. “I picked him up on the lake, when he was perishing with the cold, and in danger of being drowned.” “I don’t object to your picking him up when he needed help. One must do that for a dog. But why didn’t you put him ashore at the nearest land--in the woods or on the rocks?” “Because he was so benumbed with cold that he was nearly helpless.” “You gave him a supper at my expense; you could not have used me any better in my own yacht than you did him.” “I did everything I could for him, sir,” I replied, humbly. “You did--did you? Didn’t you know that he is a scoundrel? that he is my bitterest enemy?” demanded the major, warmly. “I did, sir; but I thought it my duty to take care of him when he was suffering.”