At the Time Appointed - Page 57/224

"I understand you would not remain here," said Mr. Britton slowly, and

laying his hand soothingly on the arm of his agitated companion, "but

you can readily see that not only your education, but your natural trend

of thought, is along these lines; therefore, when you are fully restored

to your normal self you will be the more--not the less--interested in

these things, and I predict that no matter when the time comes for you

to leave, you will, after a while, return to continue this same line of

work amid the same surroundings, but, we hope, under far happier

conditions."

Darrell shook his head slowly. "It does not seem to me that I would ever

wish to return to a place where I had suffered as I have here."

Mr. Britton smiled, one of his slow, sad, sweet smiles that Darrell

loved to watch, that seemed to dawn in his eyes and gradually to spread

until every feature was irradiated with a tender, beneficent light.

"I once thought as you do," he said, gently, "but after years of

wandering, I find that the place most sacred to me now is that hallowed

by the bitterest agony of my life."

Without replying Darrell unconsciously drew nearer to his friend, and a

brief silence followed, broken by Mr. Britton, who inquired, in a

lighter tone,-"What is the other reason for your constant application to your work?

You said there were two."

Darrell bowed his head upon his hands as he answered in a low,

despairing tone,-"To stop thinking, thinking, thinking; it will drive me mad!"

"I have been there, my boy; I know," Mr. Britton responded; then, after

a pause, he continued: "Something in the tenor of your last letter made me anxious to come to

you. I thought I detected something of the old restlessness. Has the

coming of spring, quickening the life forces all around you, stirred the

life currents in your own veins till your spirit is again tugging at its

fetters in its struggles for release?"

With a startled movement Darrell raised his head, meeting the clear eyes

fixed upon him.

"How could you know?" he demanded.

"Because, as Emerson says, 'the heart in thee is the heart of all.'

There are few hearts whose pulses are not stirred by the magic influence

of the springtide, and under its potent spell I knew you would feel your

present limitations even more keenly than ever before."

"Thank God, you understand!" Darrell exclaimed; then continued,

passionately: "The last three weeks have been torture to me if I but

allowed myself one moment's thought. Wherever I look I see life--life,

perfect and complete in all its myriad forms--the life that is denied to

me! This is not living,--this existence of mine,--with brain shackled,

fettered, in many ways helpless as a child, knowing less than a child,

and not even mercifully wrapped in oblivion, but compelled to feel the

constant goading and galling of the fetters, to be reminded of them at

every turn! My God! if it were not for constant work and study I would

go mad!"