s face as he thus proceeded.
"Why did my uncle call my life and my work useless? It is hard to be
misunderstood. If I can create out of my own brain something that is
pure and beautiful, that gives happiness, that draws coarse natures away
from their coarseness, to feelings more elevated, that can bring to some
an ecstasy of delight, to others a sweet calm. If I follow a pursuit
which injures no human being, no living creature, why am I to endure
displeasure? Is it more manly, more noble to hunt the poor, panting deer
till it falls gasping on the ground, and then to save its life for the
purpose of chasing it again for sport? Is it more noble to ride races
till the horses drop down dead? Tell me, do such pursuits elevate or
brutalize?"

Taking a roll of paper from his breast, he handed it to Mrs. Carleton,
saying, "I have a symphony here which I composed since I left my home;
would you like to look at it? I wish my twin brother Ronald could see
this; he understands me, and he will understand my music, although since
his accident, his hand can no longer obey his will; yet he will read my
symphony, aye, more, he will play it in his soul. With it you will find
a song also, the words and music are both mine; when you have read it,
will you hand it to your friend?"

Mrs. Carleton took the roll of music into her hand, but observing that
the writing was almost obliterated from having been so long wet with sea
water, she passed it to Miss Vyvyan, who sat a little farther off,
desiring to spare him the pain of seeing that his composition was
destroyed. The many pages of music were entirely illegible, with the
exception of part of the refrain of the song, the words of which ran
thus:--

Bury me deep,
Where the surges sweep,
And the heaving billows moan.

At the bottom was the name "Ralph." The following part of the signature
was destroyed.

As Anna read over the words of the song, she could not help feeling that
they might be prophetic of what was very near. She folded the paper
together and returned it to him.

"Is that your signature?" she asked.

"Yes, that is my name," he replied. "Do you like music," he continued.

"I do," she said.

"How much do you like it?"

"I like it to such a degree," she replied, "that I think life is not
life without music."

"Ah, that is what I think," he said. "But I am exhausted. Ladies, will
you pardon me if I sleep a little while? I want to get back my strength,
that