ition but
little changed. At the same time, in spite of Cabot's best nursing and
ceaseless attention, he failed to gain strength.

Having once broken his years of silence, he now found his greatest
pleasure in talking, and Cabot had frequently to interrupt his
conversation on the pretence of taking outside exercise, to prevent him
from exhausting himself in that way. He hated to do this, for Mr.
Balfour's words were always instructive, and he so freely yielded the
established secrets of his profession, as well as those of his own
recent discoveries, to his young friend that Cabot acquired a rich
store of valuable information during the short days and long nights of
that Labrador winter.

With the apparatus at hand, he was able to conduct many experiments and
put into practice a number of his newly acquired theories. The sick
man followed these with keenest interest, and aided his pupil with
shrewd suggestions. At other times they discussed the mineral wealth
of Labrador, and Mr. Balfour drew rough diagrams to show localities
from which his various specimens had been brought. He also gave much
time to a sketch map of the surrounding country, especially the coast
between the place where the "Sea Bee" had been left and Indian Harbour,
beyond which his knowledge did not extend.

With these congenial occupations, time never hung heavily in the
wilderness home of the Man-wolf, and, though bitter cold might reign
outside, fierce storms rage, and driving snows pile themselves into
mountainous drifts, neither hunger nor cold could penetrate its snug
interior, warmed and lighted by the magic of modern science. With the
passing weeks the old year died and a new one was born. January merged
into February, and days began noticeably to lengthen. Through all
these weeks Cabot kept up his strength by frequent exercise in the
open, where, in conflict with storm and cold, he ever won some part of
their own ruggedness. At the same time, his patient grew slowly but
surely weaker, until at length he could converse only in whispers, and
experienced such difficulty in swallowing that he had almost ceased to
take nourishment. One evening while affairs stood thus, he roused
himself sufficiently to inquire what day of the month it was.

"The thirteenth of February," replied Cabot, who had kept careful note
of the calendar.

Instantly the man brightened, and said, with an unexpected strength of
voice: "Six years to-morrow since we