Ah! if she only were by his
side now--now that he was a man capable of appreciating her, and
not a foolish, selfish boy. This thought would come to him as he
sat smoking at the door of his tent, and then he would regret that
the stars looking down upon him were not the same stars that were
watching her, it would have made him feel nearer to her. For,
though young people may not credit it, one grows more sentimental
as one grows older; at least, some of us do, and they perhaps not
the least wise.
One night he had a vivid dream of her. She came to him and held
out her hand, and he took it, and they said good-bye to one
another. They were standing on the cliff where he had first met
her, and one of them was going upon a long journey, though he was
not sure which.
In the towns men laugh at dreams, but away from civilisation we
listen more readily to the strange tales that Nature whispers to
us. Charles Seabohn recollected this dream when he awoke in the
morning.
"She is dying," he said, "and she has come to wish me good-bye."
He made up his mind to return to England at once; perhaps if he
made haste he would be in time to kiss her.
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