rs ago, too! Astounding, was it
not, what could happen in three years? He knew that the tomb had not
been removed, for there had been an article in the _Daily Record_ on the
previous day asking in the name of a scandalized public whether the Dean
and Chapter did not consider that three months was more than long enough
for the correction of a fundamental error in the burial department. He
was gloomy; he had in truth been somewhat gloomy ever since the trial.
Perhaps it was the shadow of the wrath of the Dean and Chapter on him.
He had ceased to procure joy in the daily manifestations of life in the
streets of the town. And this failure to discover the tomb intensified
the calm, amiable sadness which distinguished him.

Alice, gazing around, chiefly with her mouth, inquired suddenly--

"What's that printing there?"

She had detected a legend incised on one of the small stone flags which
form the vast floor of the nave. They stooped over it. "PRIAM FARLL," it
said simply, in fine Roman letters and then his dates. That was all.
Near by, on other flags, they deciphered other names of honour. This
austere method of marking the repose of the dead commended itself to
him, caused him to feel proud of himself and of the ridiculous England
that somehow keeps our great love. His gloom faded. And do you know what
idea rushed from his heart to his brain? "By Jove! I will paint finer
pictures than any I've done yet!" And the impulse to recommence the work
of creation surged over him. The tears started to his eyes.

"I like that!" murmured Alice, gazing at the stone. "I do think that's
nice."

And _he_ said, because he truly felt it, because the will to live raged
through him again, tingling and smarting:

"I'm glad I'm not there."

They smiled at each other, and their instinctive hands fumblingly met.

A few days later, the Dean and Chapter, stung into action by the
majestic rebuke of the _Daily Record_, amended the floor of Valhalla and
caused the mortal residuum of the immortal organism known as Henry Leek
to be nocturnally transported to a different bed.

_On Board_

A few days later, also, a North German Lloyd steamer quitted Southampton
for Algiers, bearing among its passengers Priam and Alice. It was a
rough starlit night, and from the stern of the vessel the tumbled white
water made a pathway straight to receding England. Priam had come to
love the slopes of Putney with the broad river at the foot; but he
showed