al tug to come to Bay House landing
in the morning and take him to the ship. He was carried in a little
hand-chair to the tug, and all the way out he seemed light-spirited,
anything but an invalid: The sailors carried him again in the chair to
his state-room, and he bade those dear Bermuda friends good-by, and we
sailed away.

As long as I remember anything I shall remember the forty-eight hours of
that homeward voyage. It was a brief two days as time is measured; but
as time is lived it has taken its place among those unmeasured periods
by the side of which even years do not count.

At first he seemed quite his natural self, and asked for a catalogue
of the ship's library, and selected some memoirs of the Countess
of Cardigan for his reading. He asked also for the second volume
of Carlyle's French Revolution, which he had with him. But we ran
immediately into the more humid, more oppressive air of the Gulf Stream,
and his breathing became at first difficult, then next to impossible.
There were two large port-holes, which I opened; but presently he
suggested that it would be better outside. It was only a step to the
main-deck, and no passengers were there. I had a steamer-chair brought,
and with Claude supported him to it and bundled him with rugs; but it
had grown damp and chilly, and his breathing did not improve. It seemed
to me that the end might come at any moment, and this thought was in his
mind, too, for once in the effort for breath he managed to say:

"I am going--I shall be gone in a moment."

Breath came; but I realized then that even his cabin was better than
this. I steadied him back to his berth and shut out most of that deadly
dampness. He asked for the "hypnotic 'injunction" (for his humor never
left him), and though it was not yet the hour prescribed I could not
deny it. It was impossible for him to lie down, even to recline, without
great distress. The opiate made him drowsy, and he longed for the relief
of sleep; but when it seemed about to possess him the struggle for air
would bring him upright.

During the more comfortable moments he spoke quite in the old way, and
time and again made an effort to read, and reached for his pipe or a
cigar which lay in the little berth hammock at his side. I held the
match, and he would take a puff or two with satisfaction. Then the peace
of it would bring drowsiness, and while I supported him there would come
a few moments, perhaps, of precious sleep. Only a