mmon age
To grant youth's heritage
Life's struggle having so far reached its term;
Thence shall I pass, approved
A man, for aye removed
From the developed brute; a god, though in the germ.
And I shall thereupon
Take rest ere I be gone
Once more on my adventures brave and new--
Fearless--and unperplexed
When I wage battle next,
What weapons to select, what armour to indue!"

* * * * *

He turned his eyes again to the sea just as a lovely light, pale golden
and clear as topaz, opened suddenly in the sky, shedding a shower of
luminant reflections on the waves. He drew a deep breath, and
unconsciously straightened himself.

"When death comes it shall find me ready!" he said, half aloud;--and
then stood, confronting the ethereal glory. The waves rolled in slowly
and majestically one after the other, and broke at his feet in long
wreaths of creamy foam,--and presently one or two light gusts of a
rather chill wind warned him that he had best be returning homeward.
While he yet hesitated, a leaf of paper blew towards him, and danced
about like a large erratic butterfly, finally dropping just where the
stick on which he leaned made a hole in the sand. He stooped and picked
it up. It was covered with fine small handwriting, and before he could
make any attempt to read it, a man sprang up from behind one of the
rocky boulders close by, and hurried forward, raising his cap as he
came.

"That's mine!" he said, quickly, with a pleasant smile--"It's a loose
page from my notebook. Thank-you so much for saving it!"

Helmsley gave him the paper at once, with a courteous inclination of the
head.

"I've been scribbling down here all day,"--proceeded the new comer--"And
there's not been much wind till now. But"--and he glanced up and about
him critically; "I think we shall have a puff of sou'wester to-night."

Helmsley looked at him with interest. He was a man of distinctive
appearance,--tall, well-knit, and muscular, with a fine intellectual
face and keen clear grey eyes. Not a very young man;--he seemed about
thirty-eight or forty, perhaps more, for his dark hair was fairly
sprinkled with silver. But his manner was irresistibly bright and
genial, and it was impossible to meet his frank, open, almost boyish
gaze, without a desire to know more of him, and an inclination to like
him.

"Do you make the seashore y