The next day Mr. Walker arrived at Rippleton himself.  The noble-hearted gentleman seemed to be in unusually good spirits, and the boys noticed that he and Captain Sedley often exchanged significant glances.  They were all satisfied that something was about to happen, but they could not imagine what.

Frank and Tony had been requested to invite their friends to assemble at Zephyr Hall at nine o’clock, on Wednesday morning; so that when Mr. Walker entered the hall with Captain Sedley, the whole school, to the number of over seventy, were gathered there.

Charles Hardy was there with the rest; but he seemed to be a different boy.  He had lost that forwardness which had often rendered him a disagreeable companion.  He had been forgiven; Mr. Walker had spoken to him very kindly, and all his friends treated him as though nothing had happened; but for all this, he could not feel right.  His sufferings were not yet ended; repentance will not banish at once the remembrance of former sin and error.  There was a deep feeling of commiseration manifested towards him by his associates.  He was to them the returned prodigal, and they would fain have killed the fatted calf in honor of his happy restoration.

The Zephyrs and the Butterflies wore their uniforms, and Mr. Walker was so excited that all the boys were sure a good time was before them; though, as the boats had not yet been recovered, they were at a loss to determine the nature of the sports to which they had been invited.

The Rovers still maintained themselves on the island.  The rupture between Tim and Barney had evidently been healed; for both parties seemed to mingle as though nothing had occurred to mar their harmonious action.

The boys at the boat-house were not kept long in suspense in relation to their day’s sport.  Captain Sedley formed them into a procession, when all had arrived, and, after appointing Fred Harper chief marshal, directed them to march down to Rippleton, cross the river, and halt upon the other side till he came.

When they reached the place they found Uncle Ben there, and soon after were joined by Captain Sedley and Mr. Walker.

“Follow us,” said the former, as he led the way down to a little inlet of the lake, whose waters were nearly enclosed by the land.

“Hurrah!” shouted Fred Harper, suddenly, when he obtained a view of the inlet, and the cry was taken up by the whole party.

“The fleet!  The fleet!” was passed from mouth to mouth; and unable to control their excitement, they broke their ranks and ran with all their might down to the water’s side.

Resting gracefully, like so many swans, on the bright waters of the inlet, lay five beautiful club boats.  They were of different sizes, and fore and aft floated their flags to the gentle breeze.

I will not attempt to describe the wild delight of the boys when they beheld the splendid boats.  The bright vision of a fleet, which they had so cheerfully abandoned to be enabled to do a good and generous deed, was realized.  Here was the fleet, far surpassing in grandeur their most magnificent ideal.

Five boats!  And the Zephyr and the Butterfly would make seven!

“You have done this!” exclaimed Frank, as Mr. Walker approached.

“Your father and I together did it.  Now, boys, if you will form a ring we will explain.”

“Three cheers for Mr. Walker first,” suggested Tony.

They were given, and three more for Captain Sedley.

“My lads, I heard all about your giving up the fleet to help Mr. Munroe out of trouble.  It was noble-heroic, and I have since taken pains to inform myself as to the manner in which you conducted yourself after the brave sacrifice.  As far as I can learn, not a regret has been expressed at the mode in which your money was applied.  Here is your reward,” and he pointed to the boats.  “They are the gift of Captain Sedley and myself.  I am sorry that these Rovers have taken your other boats; but it enables us to observe the difference between good boys and bad boys.  Nay, Master Hardy, you need not blush; for, though you have erred, you have behaved heroically; you risked your life to escape from them; you are forgiven.”

This speech was received with shouts of applause, and Charles Hardy stepped forward with tears in his eyes to thank the kind gentleman for his generosity towards him.

“Now, boys,” said Captain Sedley, “we are going to recover the lost boats.”

“Hurrah!” shouted all the boys.

“Two of these boats, you perceive, carry twelve oars each.  The crew of the Zephyr will man the Bluebird.”

The Zephyrs obeyed the order.

“The crew of the Butterfly will man the Rainbow,” continued Captain Sedley.

The Butterflies seated themselves in the new boat.

“This is merely a temporary arrangement, and when we get the other boats, we shall organize anew.  We want practised oarsmen for our present service.  While we are absent, Uncle Ben will instruct the rest of the boys in rowing.”

Captain Sedley and Mr. Walker then seated themselves in the stern sheets of the Bluebird.

“Now pull for Center Island,” said the former.  “Tony, you will follow us.”

The two boats darted out of the inlet, leaving Uncle Ben in charge of the “recruits.”

The Lily and the Dart were eight-oar boats, while the Dip carried only four, and was designed as a “tender” for the fleet.  Uncle Ben assigned places to the boys, though there were about thirty left after the oars were all manned.  After an hour’s drilling, he got the crews so they could work together, and the boats were then employed in conveying the rest of the party over to the boat-house.  The others in their turn were instructed and before noon Uncle Ben had rendered them tolerably proficient in the art of rowing.

When the Bluebird reached Center Island, Tim had just embarked in the Butterfly, and Barney was preparing to do the same in the Zephyr.  The Rovers were utterly confounded at this unexpected invasion of their domain, and hastily retreated from the beach.

William Bright, who was the coxswain of the Bluebird, ran her alongside the Zephyr, and took her in tow.  In like manner they took possession of the Sylph and the “gondola,” leaving the Rovers “alone in their glory,” with no means of escaping from the island.  With the three boats in tow, they pulled for the beach.

“Now for the Butterfly,” said Captain Sedley, as he placed the Sylph in charge of Uncle Ben, and directed William Bright to steer up the lake.

Away dashed the Bluebird.  The excited crew had observed the Butterfly about a mile off, pulling towards the river.  Tim Bunker, at this safe distance, had paused to observe the movements of the invaders.  He was as much confounded as Barney had been, and seemed to be at a loss what to do; but when he saw the Bluebird headed towards him, he ordered his crew to pull for the river.

“Steady, boys,” said Captain Sedley, when they had approached within a quarter of a mile of the chase.  “Probably they will run her ashore and leave her.”

But Tim did not mean to do anything of the kind, and was running the Butterfly directly for the river.

“They will dash her in pieces, I fear,” continued the director, when he perceived Tim’s intention.  “Pull slowly-put her about, and perhaps they will return.”

The Bluebird came round; but Tim dashed madly on, heedless of the rocks.

“She strikes!” exclaimed Mr. Walker.

“Round again-quick!” added Captain Sedley.  “They will all be drowned!  She fills!  There they go!”

The Butterfly had stove a hole in her bow; in an instant she was filled with water, and, careening over, threw her crew into the lake, where they were struggling for life.

“Your boat is stove, Tony,” said Captain Sedley to the coxswain of the Butterfly, who had exchanged places with Fred Harper, for the chase.

“Never mind the boat; save the boys!” replied Tony.

“Bravo! my little hero!” exclaimed Mr. Walker.

In a few moments the Bluebird reached the scene of the disaster.  The Butterfly was so light that she did not sink; and most of the Rovers were supporting themselves by holding on at her gunwale.  Tim and two or three more had swum ashore, and one would have been drowned, if assistance had not reached him when it did.

The discomfited Rovers were rescued from their perilous situation, and after a severe reprimand, were landed at the nearest shore.  Tim made his escape; but probably none of them have since felt any inclination to imitate the freebooters.

The Butterfly was towed down to her house, and taken out of the water.  It was found that two of her planks had been stove, and that the damage could be easily repaired.  Mr. Walker proposed sending to Boston for a boat-builder; but Captain Sedley was sure that Uncle Ben, with the assistance of the wheelwright, could repair her quite as well.

The Bluebird then returned to the beach, and the boys were dismissed till three o’clock.  The situation of the Rovers on the island was next discussed by Captain Sedley and Mr. Walker, and it was decided that, as Tim had escaped, it was not expedient to punish his companions, who were less guilty.  So Uncle Ben, with Frank and Tony, was sent off to bring them ashore.  Barney and his band were glad enough to get off.  They freely acknowledged that they had had enough of “camping out.”  It was not what they anticipated.  Nearly all of them had taken severe colds, and since the rain on Monday night, which had spoiled their provisions, they had been nearly starved.  Barney declared that they meant to return the boats that night, and if Captain Sedley would “let them off” this time, they would never do such a thing again.  Like Charles, they had been punished enough, and with some good advice they were permitted to depart.  How they made peace with their parents I cannot say; but probably many of them “had to take it.”  As for Tim Bunker, he did not show his face in Rippleton again, but made his way to Boston, where he shipped in a vessel bound for the East Indies; and everybody in town was glad to get rid of him.

Thus ended the famous “camping out” of the Rovers.  It was a very pleasant and romantic thing to think about; but the reality was sufficient to effect a radical cure, and convince them that “yellow-covered books” did not tell the truth.

At three o’clock the boys reassembled, and the crews were organized and officers selected.  By a unanimous vote, Frank Sedley was chosen commodore of the fleet.  The next morning the Butterfly was repaired, and the squadron made its first voyage round the lake.

But as the rest of the week was occupied in drilling, and the maneuvers were necessarily imperfect, I pass over the time till the August vacation, when the fleet made a grand excursion up Rippleton River.