with warm regard,
Your sincere friend,
THEOPHILUS SEWELL.

When Moses had finished reading this letter, he laid it down on the
pebbles beside him, and, leaning back against a rock, looked moodily out
to sea. The tide had washed quite up to within a short distance of his
feet, completely isolating the little grotto where he sat from all the
surrounding scenery, and before him, passing and repassing on the blue
bright solitude of the sea, were silent ships, going on their wondrous
pathless ways to unknown lands. The letter had stirred all within him
that was dreamy and poetic: he felt somehow like a leaf torn from a
romance, and blown strangely into the hollow of those rocks. Something
too of ambition and pride stirred within him. He had been born an heir
of wealth and power, little as they had done for the happiness of his
poor mother; and when he thought he might have had these two wild horses
which have run away with so many young men, he felt, as young men all
do, an impetuous desire for their possession, and he thought as so many
do, "Give them to me, and I'll risk my character,--I'll risk my
happiness."

The letter opened a future before him which was something to speculate
upon, even though his reason told him it was uncertain, and he lay there
dreamily piling one air-castle on another,--unsubstantial as the great
islands of white cloud that sailed through the sky and dropped their
shadows in the blue sea.

It was late in the afternoon when he bethought him he must return home,
and so climbing from rock to rock he swung himself upward on to the
island, and sought the brown cottage. As he passed by the open window he
caught a glimpse of Mara sewing. He walked softly up to look in without
her seeing him. She was sitting with the various articles of his
wardrobe around her, quietly and deftly mending his linen, singing soft
snatches of an old psalm-tune.

She seemed to have resumed quite naturally that quiet care of him and
his, which she had in all the earlier years of their life. He noticed
again her little hands,--they seemed a sort of wonder to him. Why had he
never seen, when a boy, how pretty they were? And she had such dainty
little ways of taking up and putting down things as she measured and
clipped; it seemed so pleasant to have her handling his things; it was
as if a good fairy were touching them, whose touch brought back peace.
But then, he thought, by and by she will do