"It may be," she said, "that in your going about in unfrequented places in search of simples you have come upon a place with the qualities Dr. King has in mind." Christopher ceased bruising the bark and put the pestle carefully down. "Dr. King spoke of the sea," said he. "He believes greatly in the winds that blow from it, and the salts and other substances that are in it. But the spot I have in mind on the coast of the Jerseys is lonely and desolate." Tom Horn stirred. "It is a lonely place that is needed," said he; "a place of sun and open spaces, where a man can live close to the eternal facts." The girl looked at him with sudden attention. "Why," she said, "that sounds like the truth." "There is one strip of coast that I know well," said the apothecary; "but it is too wild and too far from help for a man as lowered in health as Anthony Stevens." "He needs no help," said Tom Horn. "His body is tough and strong. It's his spirit that's been trampled down; and there is healing for that in the stillness of the sea and the vast sky. I have felt the touch of these things, and I know. Each is a potent good, and has been to the advantage of many a man." "I'll not gainsay you," said Christopher hopefully. "And there is a hut," to the girl, "tight against the weather when I slept there last; this would serve him if he'd care to venture to those parts, which I doubt." Tom Horn looked at Christopher, his pale, luminous face wistful and oddly intent. But he spoke to mademoiselle. "He comes here sometimes of a night," said he, "to smoke and to talk for an hour before bed. It might be well," to the apothecary, "if you spoke to him of this, should he chance in to-night." Anthony did chance in; but it was after mademoiselle had gone; and while he kindled the tobacco in his long-stemmed clay, and made himself comfortable, the little apothecary pounded and ground away at the bark in the mortar and took on a look of enormous guile. "Do you mark how thick the city's air is, in spite of the bright days?" he asked. Anthony looked surprised. "Why," said he, "I've thought it quick and pleasant enough." But Christopher shook his head forebodingly. "It will be many a long day before the lees of the plague are driven entirely away," he said. "It clings to those things and places it has touched for a long time after. There is no health here," and he shook his head again; "it's a sickly place just now. And, in your weakened state, you'd do well if you'd leave it for a space." "Sea air is driven clean," said Tom Horn. "Sea air would enrich you." "I've thought of that once or twice," said Anthony. "A short voyage might go well with me." "To be sure," said Christopher readily. "Of course. Why hadn't that occurred to me? A steady ship might be best after all. Let us say, a coastwise brig, with a sober master, and carrying cargo that's in no haste."