ssion he was bound to make; it would not lessen her trust in him.
For now all through his soul a sweet, clear voice was ringing: it was
the song the sunrise had brought him; it was the voice of Natalie
herself, with all its proud pathos and fervor, as he had heard it in the
olden days:

"A little time we gain from time
To set our seasons in some chime,
For harsh or sweet, or loud or low,
With seasons played out long ago--
And souls that in their time and prime
Took part with summer or with snow,
Lived abject lives out or sublime,
And had there chance of seed to sow
For service or disservice done
To those days dead and this their son.

"A little time that we may fill
Or with such good works or such ill
As loose the bonds or make them strong,
Wherein all manhood suffers wrong.
By rose-hung river and light-foot rill
There are who rest not; who think long
Till they discern, as from a hill,
At the sun's hour of morning song,
Known of souls only, and those souls free,
The sacred spaces of the sea."

Surely it was still for him and her together to stand on some such
height, hand-in-hand, and watch the sunrise come over the sea and
awakening world. They would forget the phantoms of the night, and the
traitors gone down to Erubus; perhaps, for this new life together, they
might seek a new clime. There was work for them still; and faith, and
hope, and the constant assurance of love: the future might perchance be
all the more beautiful because of these dark perils of the past.

As he lay thus communing with himself, the light shining in on his
haggard face, Waters came into the room, and was greatly concerned to
find that not only had his master not been to bed, but that the supper
left out for him the night before had not been touched. Brand rose,
without betraying any impatience over his attendant's pertinacious
inquiries and remonstrances. He went and got writing materials, and
wrote as follows:

"Dear Evelyn,--If you could go over to Naples for me--at once--I would
take it as a great favor. I cannot go myself. Whether or not, come to
see me at Lisle Street to-day, by twelve.

"Yours, G.B."

"Take this to Lord Evelyn, Waters; and if he is up get an answer."

"But your breakfast, sir. God bless me--"

"Never mind breakfast. I am going to lie down for an hour or two now: I
have had some bus