The colonel coughed, and looked troubled.
“Colonel,” said Mr Stuart, “I have forgiven Kenneth—that is to say, we are reconciled; for I can scarcely be said to forgive one who never offended me. The gladness that has ensued on that reconciliation is worth more to me than all the gold I ever made.”
“Stuart,” said the colonel, somewhat suddenly, “I’ll do what you ask.”
“Thank you; you’re a good fellow. Squeeze my hand—there now, go away; I’ll sleep for a little. Stay, perhaps, I may never waken; if so, farewell. You’ll find a fire in the library if you choose to wait till it’s over. God bless you.”
The sick man turned on his side with a sigh, and fell into a sleep so deep and quiet that the colonel left the room with some uncertainty as to whether his friend were still in the land of the living.
Note 1. If the reader would see a somewhat similar kitchen, let him visit the Sailors’ Home, Well Street, London Docks.