llion at what they conceive to be injustice
and hypocrisy, springs Anarchy."

"All very well said,--but now suppose you were a wealthy man, what would
you do with your money?" asked Helmsley.

Angus smiled.

"I don't know, David!--I've never realised the position yet. But I
should try to serve others more than to serve myself."

The conversation ceased then, for Helmsley looked pale and exhausted. He
had been on the seashore for the greater part of the afternoon, and it
was now sunset. Yet he was very unwilling to return home, and it was
only by gentle and oft-repeated persuasion that he at last agreed to
leave his well-loved haunt, leaning as usual on Mary's arm, with Angus
walking on the other side. Once or twice as he slowly ascended the
village street he paused, and looked back at the tranquil loveliness of
ocean, glimmering as with millions of rubies in the red glow of the
sinking sun.

"'And there shall be no more sea!'" he quoted, dreamily--"I should be
sorry if that were true! One would miss the beautiful sea!--even in
heaven!"

He walked very feebly, and Mary exchanged one or two anxious glances
with Angus. But on reaching the cottage again, his spirits revived.
Seated in his accustomed chair, he smiled as the little dog, Charlie,
jumped on his knee, and peered with a comically affectionate gravity
into his face.

"Asking me how I am, aren't you, Charlie!" he said, cheerfully--"I'm all
right, wee man!--all right!"

Apparently Charlie was not quite sure about it, for he declined to be
removed from the position he had chosen, and snuggling close down on
his master's lap, curled himself up in a silky ball and went to sleep,
now and then opening a soft dark eye to show that his slumbers were not
so profound as they seemed.

That evening when Angus had gone, after saying a prolonged good-night to
Mary in the little scented garden under the lovely radiance of an almost
full moon, Helmsley called her to his side.

"Mary!"

She came at once, and put her arm around him. He looked up at her,
smiling.

"You think I'm very tired, I know," he said--"But I'm not. I--I want to
say a word to you."

Still keeping her arm round him, she patted his shoulder gently.

"Yes, David! What is it?"

"It is just this. You know I told you I had some papers that I valued,
locked away in the little cupboard in my room?"

"Yes. I know."

"Well now,--when--when I die--will you promise me to take these papers
yourself