ed puerile.
At that moment Darrell was conscious of a new fortitude born within his
soul; a new purpose, henceforth to dominate his life.

A heavy sigh from Mr. Britton broke the silence. "I know the fetters are
galling," he said, "but have patience and hope, for, at the time
appointed, the shackles will be loosened, the fetters broken."

Darrell faced his companion, a new light in his eyes but recently so
dark with despair, as he asked, earnestly and tenderly,--

"Dearest and best of friends, is there no time appointed for the lifting
of the burden borne so nobly and uncomplainingly, 'lo, these many
years?'"

With a grave, sweet smile the elder man shook his head, and, rising,
began pacing up and down the room. "There are some burdens, my son, that
time cannot lift; they can only be laid down at the gates of eternity."

With a strange, choking sensation in his throat Darrell rose, and, going
to the window, stood looking out at the dim outlines of the neighboring
peaks. Their vast solitude no longer oppressed him as at the first; it
calmed and soothed him in his restless moods, and to-night those grim
monarchs dwelling in silent fellowship seemed to him the embodiment of
peace and rest.

After a time Mr. Britton paused beside him, and, throwing his arm about
his shoulders, asked,--

"What are your thoughts, my son?"

"Only a whim, a fancy that has taken possession of me the last few days,
since my wanderings among the mountains," he answered, lightly; "a
longing to bury myself in some sort of a retreat on one of these old
peaks and devote myself to study."

"And live a hermit's life?" Mr. Britton queried, with a peculiar smile.

"For a while, yes," Darrell replied, more seriously; "until I have
learned to fight these battles out by myself, and to conquer myself."

"There are battles," said the other, speaking thoughtfully, "which are
waged best in solitude, but self is conquered only by association with
one's fellows. Solitude breeds selfishness."

Mr. Britton had resumed his pacing up and down, but a few moments later,
as he approached Darrell, the latter turned, suddenly confronting him.

"My dear friend," he said, "you have been everything to me; you have
done everything for me; I ask you to do one thing more,--forgive and
answer this question: How have you conquered?"

The look of pain that crossed his companion's face filled Darrell with
regret for what he had said, but before he could speak again M