The tone in which Captain Corbet uttered these words was one of such quiet despair, that none of the boys had anything to say. They all felt that he knew best. Besides, he was most directly concerned in the loss of the Antelope, and if he gave up, then there was no hope for them. Then also they had offered their services, and Captain Corbet had declined them. What more could they do? Nothing more; that was evident. So they listened in mournful silence to his last words. “Yes,” said Captain Corbet, impressively. She’s a gone sucker! An it was o’ny my fault. I’d ort to hev tied her up. But I didn’t. Cos why? Cos I hed to hurry off to the babby. It was the infant that called me off from my dooty to the schewner, an this here’s the end. Sarves me right. O’ny it’s a heavy loss, an I wouldn’t mind it if it was my loss. But ’tain’t my loss. It’s hisn. It’s the infant’s. And the wust of it is, the loss is total; for the schewner’s a gone sucker!” “I see how it is,” he resumed, as the boys stood round him in respectful silence, full of sympathy for his loss,--“I see how it is. It’s the finger of Providence. You see,” he continued, with a deeper solemnity, “you see it’s intended to show me that I’m to devote myself altogether to the babby. I onst dug for gold--I ben warned off. I traversed the briny deep with potatoes--warned off again. This here’s what I call a warnin, an I take it as sich, an henceforth intend to give myself up to the babby. That’s about it.” Captain Corbet then relapsed into silence, and once more fixed his abstracted gaze upon the lost schooner. The boys could do nothing, and full of respectful sympathy, they withdrew in silence, and returned to the hill. It was almost tea-time, and all the boys were out in front of the Academy. Mr. Long was walking up and down the portico, chatting with Dr. Porter. The “B. O. W. C.” were there engaged with the others in the general sport, when suddenly Phil seized Bart’s arm, and pointed to the avenue. “Look,” he cried. Bart looked, and saw the familiar figure of Captain Corbet. He was walking rapidly, straight up towards the portico. The “B. O. W. C.” at once rushed up to him. “Whar’s Mr. Long?” said Captain Corbet, who seemed very much excited. “Up there,” said Bart, pointing to the portico. Captain Corbet said no more, but hurried on in the direction indicated, and soon ascended the steps of the portico, immediately in front of Mr. Long. “Mr. Long,” said he, in great agitation, “I’ve got into trouble.” “Ah, captain,” said Mr. Long. “How do you do? Trouble? What trouble?” “Along o’ that stone fence.” “The stone fence?” said Mr. Long. “How’s that? We put it all back in its place, better than ever.” “Any how,” said Captain Corbet, “they’ve gone an sarved a writ on me.” “A writ!” “Yes, sir. Damages done to property by removal of wall. An they’re going to prosecute me! An me jest lost the schewner. Me, with nothin left but my little farm to leave tew the babby!”