e another stone.

And now, strange to say, the uneasiness and perplexity which had
possessed him ever since he had stood before his revealed wealth
dropped from him like a burden laid upon the wayside. A measureless
peace stole over him, in which visions of his new-found fortune, no
longer a trouble and perplexity, but crowned with happiness and
blessing to all around him, assumed proportions far beyond his own
weak, selfish plans. In its even-handed benefaction, his wife and
children, his friends and relations, even his late poor companion of
the hillside, met and moved harmoniously together; in its far-reaching
consequences there was only the influence of good. It was not strange
that this poor finite mind should never have conceived the meaning of
the wealth extended to him; or that conceiving it he should faint and
falter under the revelation. Enough that for a few minutes he must
have tasted a joy of perfect anticipation that years of actual
possession might never bring.

The sun seemed to go down in a rosy dream of his own happiness, as he
still sat there. Later, the shadows of the trees thickened and
surrounded him, and still later fell the calm of a quiet evening sky
with far-spaced passionless stars, that seemed as little troubled by
what they looked upon as he was by the stealthy creeping life in the
grasses and underbrush at his feet. The dull patter of soft little
feet in the soft dust of the road, the gentle gleam of moist and
wondering little eyes on the branches and in the mossy edges of the
boulder, did not disturb him. He sat patiently through it all, as if
he had not yet made up his mind.

But when the stage came with the flashing sun the next morning, and the
irresistible clamor of life and action, the driver suddenly laid his
four spirited horses on their haunches before the quiet spot. The
express messenger clambered down from the box, and approached what
seemed to be a heap of cast-off clothes upon the boulder.

"He don't seem to be drunk," he said, in reply to a querulous
interrogation from the passengers. "I can't make him out. His eyes
are open, but he cannot speak or move. Take a look at him, Doc."

A rough unprofessional-looking man here descended from the inside of
the coach, and, carelessly thrusting aside the other curious
passengers, suddenly leant over the heap of clothes in a professional
attitude.

"He is dead," said one of the passengers.

The rough man let the pass