Chapter Fifty.
Our Patient awakes.
There was no alarm next day, and scouts who were sent out came back to report that they had tracked the enemy down the river, and then up into the forest by one of the side streams, the second beyond the Golden Valley.
“Humph!” ejaculated Mr Raydon, “pleasant that, John. They have taken to the lovely wooded vale I had marked down in my own mind for your future home.”
Mr John shrugged his shoulders, and gave his wife and brother-in-law a half-sad, half-laughing look.
“I am not surprised,” he said, “I always was the most unlucky of men.”
“Nothing of the kind, sir,” retorted Mr Raydon. “You have had as much good fortune as other men—quite as much as I have. My dear John,” he added more gently, “we men have a bad habit of forgetting the good in our lives, and remembering all the bad. My dear fellow, half your troubles have been caused by your want of energy.”
“Yes,” he said, smiling sadly, “I suppose so. I have always been too ready to give up. But,” he added quickly, “I never complain.”