<h2>CHAPTER II.</h2>
<h3>THE CIRCUS AT WHITESTONE.</h3>
<p>"<span class="smcap">Do</span> you see that?" exclaimed Noddy, as he
stopped rowing, and gazed at the flames which leaped
madly up from the devoted building.</p>
<p>"I see it," replied Fanny, with even more agitation
than was manifested by her companion.</p>
<p>"I don't understand it," added Noddy.</p>
<p>"The boat-house is on fire, and will burn up in
a few minutes more. I think it is plain enough;"
and Fanny struggled to be calm and indifferent.</p>
<p>"We must go back and see to it."</p>
<p>"We shall do nothing of the kind. Pull away as
hard as ever you can, or we shall not get to Whitestone
in season."</p>
<p>"I don't care about going to Whitestone now; I
want to know what all that means."</p>
<p>"Can't you see what it means? The boat-house
is on fire."<span class='pagenum'><SPAN name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[22]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>"Well, how did it catch afire? That's what
bothers me."</p>
<p>"You needn't bother yourself about it. My father
owns the boat-house, and it isn't worth much."</p>
<p>"All that may be; but I want to know how it got
afire."</p>
<p>"We shall find out soon enough when we return."</p>
<p>"But I want to know now."</p>
<p>"You can't know now; so pull away."</p>
<p>"I shall have the credit of setting that fire," added
Noddy, not a little disturbed by the anticipation.</p>
<p>"No, you won't."</p>
<p>"Yes, I shall. I told Ben I wished the boat-house
would catch afire and burn up. Of course he will
lay it to me."</p>
<p>"No matter if he does; Ben isn't everybody."</p>
<p>"Well, he is 'most everybody, so far as Miss Bertha
is concerned; and I'd rather tumbled overboard
in December than have that fire happen just now."</p>
<p>"You were not there when the fire broke out,"
said Fanny, with a strong effort to satisfy her boatman.</p>
<p>"That's the very reason why they will lay it to me.
They will say I set the boat-house afire, and then ran
away on purpose."<span class='pagenum'><SPAN name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[23]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>"I can say you were with me when the fire broke
out, and that I know you didn't do it," replied
Fanny.</p>
<p>"That will do; but I would give all my old shoes
to know how the fire took, myself."</p>
<p>"No matter how it took."</p>
<p>"Yes, it is matter, Miss Fanny. I want to know.
There wasn't any fire in the building when I left it."</p>
<p>"Perhaps somebody stopped there in a boat, and
set it on fire."</p>
<p>"Perhaps they did; but I know very well they
didn't," answered Noddy, positively. "There hasn't
been any boat near the pier since we left it."</p>
<p>"Perhaps Ben left his pipe among those shavings."</p>
<p>"Ben never did that. He would cut his head off
sooner than do such a thing. He is as scared of fire
as he is of the Flying Dutchman."</p>
<p>"Don't say anything more about it. Now row
over to Whitestone as quick as you can," added Fanny,
petulantly.</p>
<p>"I'm not going over to Whitestone, after what has
happened. I shouldn't have a bit of fun if I went."</p>
<p>"Very well, Noddy; then you may get out of the
scrape as you can," said the young lady, angrily.</p>
<p>"What scrape?"<span class='pagenum'><SPAN name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[24]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>"Why, they will accuse you of setting the boat-house
afire; and you told Ben you wished it was
burned down."</p>
<p>"But I didn't set it afire."</p>
<p>"Who did, then?"</p>
<p>"That's just what I want to find out. That's what
worries me; for I can't see how it happened, unless
it took fire from that bucket of water I left on the
floor."</p>
<p>Fanny was too much disturbed by the conduct of
her boatman, or by some other circumstance, to laugh
at Noddy's joke; and the brilliant sally was permitted
to waste itself without an appreciative smile. She
sat looking at the angry flames as they devoured the
building, while her companion vainly attempted to hit
upon a satisfactory explanation of the cause of the
fire. Noddy was perplexed; he was absolutely worried,
not so much by the probable consequences to
himself of the unfortunate event, as by the cravings
of his own curiosity. He did not see how it happened;
and if a potent juggler had performed a
wonderful feat in his presence, he could not have
been more exercised in mind to know how it was
done.</p>
<p>Noddy was neither a logician nor a philosopher;<span class='pagenum'><SPAN name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[25]</SPAN></span>
and therefore he was utterly unable to account for
the origin of the fire. In vain he wasted his intellectual
powers in speculations; in vain he tried to
remember some exciting cause to which the calamity
could be traced. Meanwhile, Miss Fanny was deliberating
quite as diligently over another question; for
she apparently regarded the destruction of the boat-house
as a small affair, and did not concern herself
to know how it had been caused. But she was very
anxious to reach Whitestone before ten o'clock, and
her rebellious boatman had intimated his intention
not to carry out his part of the agreement.</p>
<p>"What are you thinking about, Noddy?" asked
she, when both had maintained silence for the full
space of three minutes, which was a longer period
than either of them had ever before kept still while
awake.</p>
<p>"I was thinking of that fire," replied Noddy,
removing his gaze from the burning building, and
fixing it upon her.</p>
<p>"Are you going to Whitestone, or not?" continued
she, impatiently.</p>
<p>"No; I don't want to go to Whitestone, while
all of them down there are talking about me, and
saying I set the boat-house afire."<span class='pagenum'><SPAN name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[26]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>"They will believe you did it, too."</p>
<p>"But I didn't, Miss Fanny. You know I didn't."</p>
<p>"How should I know it?"</p>
<p>"Because I was with you; besides, you came out
of the boat-house after I did."</p>
<p>"If you will row me over to Whitestone, I will
say so; and I will tell them I know you didn't do it."</p>
<p>Noddy considered the matter for a moment, and,
perhaps concluding that it was safer for him to keep
on the right side of Miss Fanny, he signified his
acceptance of the terms by taking up his oars, and
pulling towards Whitestone. But he was not satisfied;
he was as uneasy as a fish out of water;
and nothing but the tyranny of the wayward young
lady in the boat would have induced him to flee
from the trouble which was brewing at Woodville.
He had quite lost sight of the purpose which had
induced him to disobey Bertha's orders.</p>
<p>Our young adventurers had not left Woodville
without an object. There was a circus at Whitestone—a
travelling company which had advertised
to give three grand performances on that day. Miss
Fanny wanted to go; but, either because her father
was otherwise occupied, or because he did not approve
of circuses, he had declined to go with her.<span class='pagenum'><SPAN name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[27]</SPAN></span>
Bertha did not want to go, and also had an engagement.</p>
<p>Fanny had set her heart upon going; and she
happened to be too wilful, just at that period, to
submit to the disappointment to which her father's
convenience or his principles doomed her. Bertha
had gone to the city at an early hour in the morning
to spend the day with a friend, and Fanny
decided that she would go to the circus, in spite
of all obstacles, and in the face of her father's
implied prohibition. When she had proceeded far
enough to rebel, in her own heart, against the will
of her father, the rest of the deed was easily accomplished.</p>
<p>Noddy had never been to a circus; and when
Fanny told him what it was,—how men rode standing
up on their horses; how they turned somersets,
and played all sorts of antics on the tight rope and
the slack rope; and, above all, what funny things
the clowns said and did,—he was quite ready to do
almost anything to procure so rare a pleasure as
witnessing such a performance must afford him. It
did not require any persuasion to induce him to
assist Fanny in her disobedience. The only obstacle
which had presented itself was his morning work<span class='pagenum'><SPAN name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[28]</SPAN></span>
in the boat-house, which Bertha's departure for the
city had prevented him from doing at an earlier
hour.</p>
<p>To prevent Ben from suspecting that they were
on the water, in case they should happen to be
missed, he had borrowed a boat and placed it at
the Point, where they could embark without being
seen, if Ben or any of the servants happened to
be near the pier. The boatman, who made it his
business to see that Noddy did his work on time in
the morning, did not neglect his duty on this occasion;
and when Noddy started to meet Fanny at
the appointed place, he had been called back, as
described in the first chapter.</p>
<p>As he pulled towards Whitestone, he watched the
flames that rose from the boat-house; and he had,
for the time, lost all his enthusiasm about the circus.
He could think only of the doubtful position in
which his impulsive words to the boatman placed
him. Above all things,—and all his doubts and
fears culminated in this point,—what would Miss
Bertha say? He did not care what others said,
except so far as their words went to convince his
mistress of his guilt. What would she do to him?<span class='pagenum'><SPAN name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[29]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>But, after all had been said and done, he was
not guilty. He had not set the boat-house on fire,
and he did not even know who had done the malicious
act. Noddy regarded this as a very happy
thought; and while the reflection had a place in his
mind, he pulled the oars with redoubled vigor. Yet
it was in vain for him to rely upon the voice of
an approving conscience for peace in that hour of
trouble. If he had not, at that moment, been engaged
in an act of disobedience, he might have
been easy. He had been strictly forbidden by Mr.
Grant, and by Bertha, ever to take Fanny out in
a boat without permission; and Miss Fanny had
been as strictly forbidden to go with him, or with
any of the servants, without the express consent,
each time, of her father or of Bertha.</p>
<p>It is very hard, while doing wrong in one thing,
to enjoy an approving conscience in another thing;
and Noddy found it so in the present instance.
We do not mean to say that Noddy's conscience
was of any great account to him, or that the inward
monitor caused his present uneasiness. He had
a conscience, but his vagabond life had demoralized it
in the first place, and it had not been sufficiently
developed, during his stay at Woodville, to abate<span class='pagenum'><SPAN name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[30]</SPAN></span>
very sensibly his anticipated pleasure at the circus.
His uneasiness was entirely selfish. He had got into
a scrape, whose probable consequences worried him
more than his conscience.</p>
<p>By the time the runaways reached Whitestone,
the boat-house was all burned up, and nothing but
the curling smoke from the ruins visibly reminded
the transgressors of the event which had disturbed
them. Securing the boat in a proper place, Noddy
conducted the young lady to the large tent in which
the circus company performed, and which was more
than a mile from the river. Fanny gave him the
money, and Noddy purchased two tickets, which
admitted them to the interior of the tent.</p>
<p>If Noddy had been entirely at ease about the
affair on the other side of the river, no doubt he
would have enjoyed the performance very much;
but in the midst of the "grand entree of all the
horses and riders of the troupe," the sorrowing face
of Bertha Grant thrust itself between him and the
horsemen, to obscure his vision and diminish the
cheap glories of the gorgeous scene. When "the
most daring rider in the world" danced about, like
a top, on the bare back of his "fiery, untamed
steed," Noddy was enthusiastic, and would have<span class='pagenum'><SPAN name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[31]</SPAN></span>
given a York shilling for the privilege of trying to
do it himself.</p>
<p>The "ground and lofty tumbling," with the exception
of the spangled tunics of the performers,
hardly came up to his expectations; and he was
entirely satisfied that he could beat the best man
among them at such games. As the performance
proceeded, he warmed up enough to forget the fire,
and ceased to dread the rebuke of Bertha; but
when all was over,—when the clown had made
his last wry face, and the great American acrobat
had achieved his last gyration, Bertha and the fire
came back to him with increased power. Moody and
sullen, he walked down to the river with Fanny, who,
under ordinary circumstances, would have been too
proud to walk through the streets of Whitestone with
him. If he had been alone, it is quite probable that
he would have taken to the woods, so much did he
dread to return to Woodville.</p>
<p>He pushed off the boat, and for some time he
pulled in silence, for Miss Fanny now appeared to
have her own peculiar trials. Her conscience seemed
to have found a voice, and she did not speak till the
boat had reached the lower end of Van Alstine's
Island.<span class='pagenum'><SPAN name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[32]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>"The fire is all out now," said she.</p>
<p>"Yes; but I would give a thousand dollars to
know how it caught," added Noddy.</p>
<p>"I know," continued Fanny, looking down into
the bottom of the boat.</p>
<p>"Who did it?" demanded Noddy, eagerly.</p>
<p>"I did it myself," answered Fanny, looking up
into his face to note the effect of the astonishing
confession.<span class='pagenum'><SPAN name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[33]</SPAN></span></p>
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