The boat was readily loaned, and the two were soon on the river. Mr. Melville first took the oars, but he was quickly fatigued, and resigned them to Herbert, who was strong and muscular for his age. As his companion observed his strong and steady strokes, he said:
“Herbert, I am disposed to envy you your strength and endurance. I get tired very easily.”
“Were you not strong when a boy?” asked Herbert.
“I never had much endurance. My mother had a feeble constitution and was consumptive, and I inherit something of her weakness.”
“It is fortunate that you have money, Mr. Melville, so that you are not obliged to work.”
“True; but I would give half my fortune to be strong and well.”
Herbert noticed the hectic flush upon Mr. Melville's cheeks, and his white, transparent hands, and his sympathy was aroused.
“I see,” he said, thoughtfully, “that I am more fortunate than I thought in my health and strength.”
“They are blessings not to be overestimated, Herbert. However, my lot is, on the whole, a happy one, even though my life will probably be brief, and I have still many sources of satisfaction and enjoyment.”
The river led away from the village, flowing between wooded banks, with here and there a cottage set in the midst of the fields. Lying back in the stern, Melville enjoyed their tranquil passage, when their attention was suddenly attracted by a boy who stood on the bank, frantically waving his hat. Melville was the first to see him.