of delicious ease and repose in bones that had been racked and weary,
and deep in the heart that had so lately been tormented there was an
assurance of comfort--of the battle won. The thundering, roaring waves
were passed; he had entered into the haven of calm waters. After
fatigues and terrors that as yet he could not recollect he seemed now
to be resting in the easiest of all easy chairs in a dim, low room.

In the hearth there was a glint of fire and a blue, sweet-scented puff
of wood smoke; a great black oak beam roughly hewn crossed the
ceiling. Through the leaded panes of the windows he saw a rich glow of
sunlight, green lawns, and against the deepest and most radiant of all
blue skies the wonderful far-lifted towers of a vast, Gothic
cathedral--mystic, rich with imagery.

"Good Lord!" he murmured to himself. "I didn't know they had such
places in France. It's just like Wells. And it might be the other day
when I was going past the Swan, just as it might be past that window,
and asked the ostler what time it was, and he says, 'What time? Why,
summer-time'; and there outside it looks like summer that would last
for ever. If this was an inn they ought to call it _The Soldiers'
Rest_."

He dozed off again, and when he opened his eyes once more a kindly
looking man in some sort of black robe was standing by him.

"It's all right now, isn't it?" he said, speaking in good English.

"Yes, thank you, sir, as right as can be. I hope to be back again
soon."