ves, the
words of the poet are peculiarly applicable:

"'A sacred burden is this life ye bear:
Look on it, lift it, bear it solemnly;
Stand up and walk beneath it steadfastly;
Fail not for sorrow, falter not for sin,
But onward, upward, till the goal ye win.'"

An hour later John Britton stood alone on one of the mountain terraces,
his tall, lithe form silhouetted against the evening sky, his arms
folded, his face lifted upward. It was a face of marvellous strength and
sweetness combined. Sorrow had set its unmistakable seal upon his
features; here and there pain had traced its ineffaceable lines; but
the firmly set mouth was yet inexpressibly tender, the calm brow was
unfurrowed, and the clear eyes had the far-seeing look of one who, like
the Alpine traveller, had reached the heights above the clouds, to whose
vision were revealed glories undreamed of by the dwellers in the vales
below.

And to Darrell, watching from his room the distant figure outlined
against the sky, the simple grandeur, the calm triumph of its pose must
have brought some revelation concerning this man of whom he knew so
little, yet whose personality even more than his words had taken so firm
a hold upon himself, for, as the light faded and deepening twilight hid
the solitary figure from view, he turned from the window, and, pacing
slowly up and down the room, soliloquized:

"With him for a friend, I can meet the future with courage and await
with patience the resurrection of the buried past. As he has conquered,
so will I conquer; I will scale the heights after him, until I stand
where he stands to-night!"

_Chapter VI_

ECHOES FROM THE PAST

During his stay at The Pines Mr. Britton spent the greater portion of
his time with Mr. Underwood, either at their offices or at the mines.
Darrell, therefore, saw little of his new-found friend except as they
all gathered in the evening around the glowing fire in the large family
sitting-room, for, notwithstanding the lingering warmth and sunshine of
the days, the nights were becoming sharp and frosty, so that an open
fire added much to the evening's enjoyment. Each morning, however,
before his departure, Mr. Britton stopped for a few words with Darrell;
some quaint, kindly bit of humor, the pleasant flavor of which would
enliven the entire day; some unhackneyed expression of sympathy whose
very genuineness and sincerity made Darrell's position seem to him less
isolated and solita