tratton sitting back, with his shoulders against the cliff,
dreaming of the past, and then of the future, more at rest than he had
been for months, and as Brettison drew near he brightened a little, and
smiled. For the nurse's words applied to his friend as well, and he was
certainly growing stronger and better. A healthy brown was coming into
his face, and in spite of the dreamy reverie into which he plunged, a
more even balance was coming to his mind.

"One must reckon one against the other," Brettison said to himself.

As the days glided by, and they gained confidence from their charge's
dull, dreamy condition, Brettison proposed, and Stratton readily agreed,
to make little excursions with him inland, or along the coast to some of
the quaint villages, or antique--so-called Druidical--remains; and after
each trip they returned to find nurse and patient just as they had left
them. The confidence increased, and it became evident that Stratton had
only to keep away for their charge to go on in his old vacant manner
from day to day. His habits were simple and full of self-indulgence, if
there could be any enjoyment to a mind so blank. He rose late, and went
to bed soon after sundown, and the evenings were looked forward to by
Stratton and Brettison for their quiet dinner at the little inn where
Stratton stayed.

Here, as they sat over their wine and had cigars, watching the evening
skies and the glorious star-gemmed sea, a feeling of restfulness came
over them, and they leaned back with the feeling of convalescents whose
wounds were healing fast after they had been very nearly to the gates of
death.

It was a marvel to Stratton as he recalled the past, and, as he sat
gazing from the open window or strolled out upon the dusky sands, he
wondered that he could feel so well. In fact a sensation of annoyance
attacked him, for he felt guilty and faithless, a traitor to the past,
and strove to resume his old cloak of sadness, but it would not come.

"Malcolm, my lad," said Brettison one evening as he leaned forward and
laid his hand upon the young man's arm, "we are going to have rest and
peace again. Thank Heaven, you are growing like your old self."

"Rest and peace with that man yonder," said Stratton bitterly.

"Hah! That will not do. Now you've gone back to the old style. Let
that be, and wait for the future to unroll itself. The man does not
trouble us, and seems hardly likely to, and we have the satisfact