"Farewell, my boy," said Rushbrook; "your father thanks you." "Heaven preserve you, my child!" cried Jane, embracing him, as the tears rained down her cheeks. "You will write--no! you must not--mercy!-- mercy!--I shall never see him again!"--and the mother fainted on the floor. The tears rose in our hero's eyes as he beheld the condition of his poor mother. Once more he grasped his father's hand; and then, catching up the gun, he went out at the back door, and driving back the dog, who would have followed him, made over the fields as fast as his legs would carry him. CHAPTER SIX. "THE WORLD BEFORE HIM, WHERE TO CHOOSE." We have no doubt but many of our readers have occasionally, when on a journey, come to where the road divides into two, forking out in different directions, and the road being new to them, have not known which of the two branches they ought to take. This happens, as it often does in a novel, to be our case just now. Shall we follow little Joey, or his father and mother?--that is the question. We believe that when a road does thus divide, the wider of the two branches is generally selected, as being supposed to be the continuation of the high road. We shall ourselves act upon that principle; and, as the hero of the tale is of more consequence than characters accessory, we shall follow up the fortunes of little Joey. As soon as our hero had deposited the gun so that it might be easily discovered by any one passing by, he darted into the high road, and went off with all the speed that he was capable of, and it was not yet light when he found himself at least ten miles from his native village. As the day dawned, he quitted the high road, and took to the fields, keeping a parallel course, so as to still increase the distance; it was not until he had made fifteen miles, that, finding himself exhausted, he sat down to recover himself.