The only plays he went openly to witness
were those of Shakespeare; and his favorite was "As You Like It";
Rosalind in tights having an attraction for him which he missed in
Lady Macbeth in petticoats. On this evening he had seen Rosalind
impersonated by a famous actress, who had come to a neighboring town
on a starring tour. After the performance he had returned to Panley,
supped there with a friend, and was now making his way back to
Moncrief House, of which he had been intrusted with the key. He was
in a frame of mind favorable for the capture of a runaway boy. An
habitual delight in being too clever for his pupils, fostered by
frequently overreaching them in mathematics, was just now stimulated
by the effect of a liberal supper and the roguish consciousness of
having been to the play. He saw and recognized Cashel as he
approached the village pound. Understanding the situation at once,
he hid behind the pump, waited until the unsuspecting truant was
passing within arm's-length, and then stepped out and seized him by
the collar of his jacket.
"Well, sir," he said. "What are you doing here at this hour? Eh?"
Cashel, scared and white, looked up at him, and could not answer a
word.
"Come along with me," said Wilson, sternly.
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