Mrs Chopper in vain endeavoured to console our hero, or make him explain--he did nothing but sit mournfully by her side, thinking what he had best do, and expecting every minute to hear the tramp of Furness (for it was he who had recognised Joey) coming up the stairs. "Mrs Chopper," at last said Joey, "I must leave you, I'm afraid; I was obliged to leave my former friends on this man's account." "Leave me, boy! no, no, you must not leave me--how could I get on without you?" "If I don't leave you myself, I shall be taken up, that is certain; but indeed I have not done wrong--don't think that I have." "I'm sure of it, child; you've only to say so, and I'll believe you; but why should he care about you?" "He lived in our village, and knows all about it; he gave evidence at--" "At what, boy?" "At the time that I ran away from home; he proved that I had the gun and bag which were found." "Well, and suppose you had; what then?" "Mrs Chopper, there was a reward offered, and he wants to get the money." "Oh, I see now--a reward offered; then it must be as Nancy said, there was blood shed," and Mrs Chopper put her apron up to her eyes. Joey made no answer. After a few minutes' silence he rose, and went to his room where he slept, and put his clothes up in a bundle. Having so done, he sat down on the side of his bed and reflected what was the course he ought to pursue. Our hero was now sixteen, and much increased in stature; he was no longer a child, although, in heart, almost as innocent. His thoughts wandered--he yearned to see his father and mother, and reflected whether he might not venture back to the village, and meet them by stealth; he thought of the McShanes, and imagined that he might in the same way return to them; then little Emma Phillips rose in his imagination, and his fear that he should never see her again; Captain O'Donahue was at last brought to his recollection, and he longed to be once more with him in Russia; and, lastly, he reviewed the happy and contented life he had lately led with his good friend Mrs Chopper, and how sorry he should be to part with her. After a time he threw himself on his bed and hid his face in the pillow; and, overcome with the excess of his feelings, he at last fell asleep. In the mean time Nancy had followed the marines up the street, and saw them enter, with their prisoner, into a small public-house, where she was well known; she followed them, spoke a few kind words to the seaman who had been apprehended, and with whom she was acquainted, and then sat down by Furness to attract his attention.