"Well, I don't know anything about that. Father went over to Whitestone with Squire Wriggs, after you ran away. He went over again last night, after he came from the city, and I haven't seen him for more than a moment since."

"He is going to send me to the court-house," said Noddy, fully satisfied that Bertha knew nothing about the proceedings of her father. "I am going to sea, now."

"To sea, Noddy?"

"Yes, I'm going to work and win, as you told me, and when I come back I shall be respectable."

Bertha had her doubts on this point. She had almost lost all hope of her _protege_, and she did not think that a voyage in the forecastle of a ship would be likely to improve his manners or his morals.

"I can't let you go, Noddy," said she.

"I must go; if I stay here they will put me in prison. You don't want to see me put in prison, Bertha."

"I don't."

"Then what can I do? The officers are after me this moment."

"But I shall have to tell my father that I have seen you."

"You may do that; and you may tell him, too, that it won't be any use for him to try to find me, for I shall keep out of the way. If they catch me they will be smarter than I am," added Noddy, confidently.

"I want to see you again, Noddy, after I have talked with father about you. I don't believe he intends to send you to prison."

"I know he does. I come over here to see you before I went away. I couldn't go without seeing you, or I shouldn't have come. I may never see you again, for I shan't run any more risks after this."

Bertha said all she could to induce him to meet her again; but the cunning youth was afraid that some trap might be set to catch him, and he a.s.sured her that this was positively his last appearance at Woodville for the present. He was satisfied that Mr. Grant had taken the case into his own hands, and that she could not save him if she would.

"Now, good-bye, Miss Bertha," said he, wiping a tear from his face.

"Don't go, Noddy," pleaded she.

"I must."

"You haven't any clothes but those you have on, and you have no money."

"I don't want any. I can get along very well. Won't you shake hands with me before I go?"

"Certainly, I will," replied she, giving him her hand. "You will not let me do anything for you now?"

"You have done more than I deserve. Good-bye, Miss Bertha," said he, pressing the hand he held.

"Good-bye, Noddy," replied she. "Good-bye, if you must go."

"There comes your father," exclaimed he, as he bounded off into the grove with the speed of an antelope.

"Was that Noddy?" asked Mr. Grant, as he joined Bertha a few minutes later.

"Yes, father."

"Why didn't you tell me he was here, Bertha?"

"He came but a few moments ago. He came to bid me good-bye."

"Where is he going?"

"He is going to sea. He says you intend to take him to the court-house."

"This is very unfortunate. A most remarkable event in regard to the boy has occurred, which I haven't time to tell you about now. It is very important that I should find him at once."

"I don't think you can catch him. He is very much afraid of being sent to prison."

"I had no intention of sending him to prison," laughed Mr. Grant.

"But he heard Squire Wriggs say he must take him over to the court."

"That was for another matter--in a word, to have a guardian appointed, for Noddy will be a rich man when he is of age."

"Noddy?" exclaimed Bertha.

"Yes; but I haven't a moment to spare. I have been at work on his affairs since yesterday morning. They are all right now; and all we want to enable us to complete the business is the presence of the boy."

"Poor fellow! He is terribly worked up at the idea of going to the court-house, or even to a tinker's shop, as he calls it."

"Well, he is running away from his own fortune and happiness; and I must find him."

"I hope you will, father," said Bertha, earnestly, as Mr. Grant hastened away to organize a pursuit of the refugee.

All the male servants on the place were summoned, and several started off in the direction in which Noddy had retreated. The boatman and others were sent off in the boats; and the prospect was, that the fugitive would be captured within a few hours. As our story relates more especially to the runaway himself, we shall follow him, and leave the well-meaning people of Woodville to pursue their investigations alone.

When Noddy discovered Mr. Grant, he was satisfied that the gentleman saw him, for he quickened his pace, and walked towards the place where he stood holding Bertha's hand. He ran with all his might by the familiar paths till he reached the Glen. There were, at present, no signs of a pursuit; but he was confident that it would not be delayed, and he did not even stop to take breath. Rushing down to the water, he embarked in the skiff, and rowed up the river, taking care to keep in sh.o.r.e, where he could not be seen from below.

Above Van Alstine's Island, he crossed the river, and began to work his way down; but the white sails of the Greyhound were seen, with all the boats belonging to the estate, headed up stream. They were chasing him in earnest, and he saw that it was not safe to remain on the river.

"Do you know where Mr. Grover lives?" he asked of a ragged boy who was fishing on the bank of the river.

"Below Whitestone?"

"Yes."

"Will you take this boat down there?"

"I will," replied the boy, glad of the job, and willing to do it without any compensation.

Noddy had taken off the tights belonging to the circus company, and rolled them up in a bundle. In order to be as honest as Bertha had taught him to be,--though he was not always so particular,--he engaged the boy to leave them at the circus tent.

The boy got into the boat, and began his trip down the river. Noddy felt that he had been honest, and he was rather proud of the record he was to leave behind him; for it did not once occur to him that borrowing the boat without leave was only a little better than stealing it, even if he did return it.

The servants at Woodville and the constables at Whitestone were on his track, and he had no time to spare. Taking a road leading from the river, he walked away from it as fast as he could. About three miles distant, he found a road leading to the northward; and thinking it better to suffer by excess of prudence than by the want of it, he took this direction, and pursued his journey till he was so tired he could go no farther.