That day came; and the drooping, worn-out boy found himself, after much toil and many restings by the way, once more placed within view of his favourite prospect, with the beams of the declining sun glistering on the heaving surface of the sound, and the nearer dock-yards chequered with long shadows from the timber-stacks and half-built vessels. It did not diminish the interest of the view that about a furlong of the dyke came within its range, with its trains of passengers hastening to and fro, and all the bustle taking place upon it which Luc and Roselyn thought much better worth attending to than the regular labours of the dock-yard. Christian cast an occasional glance that way while the children were looking out, the afternoon after the arrival of Gertrude and Christian from the north. The rest of the party had been settled some days; but Christian and his nurse had stopped to rest at the abode of the good dame who had offered her hospitality, in case of the invalid passing her way. This old woman had infused a further spirit of thankfulness into the suffering boy; so that, though he felt himself declining daily, he grew more patient as he had more need of patience. The pastor was now sitting by his side, speaking little, and keeping his eye fixed on the gleaming sea. "O, look, look!" cried Christian, pointing in the direction of the road. "One, two, four teams of dogs! and the carts piled as high as they can bear. They must be going to the fair.--O, how tired I am!" he continued, languidly. "Here I lie, while that stream of people passes on, on, on,--all busy, all expecting something, and thinking only of being as busy always." "You are not the only one, Christian, that feels this," said the pastor. "Some who are as strong as the strongest of yon traffickers and pleasure-seekers feel, like you, that the hand of God is upon them, to fix them apart while the world passes on. It is not you alone, my boy." "I know whom you mean," said Christian, in a low voice. "Christ stood on the mount and on the shore, and saw all the people going up to the feast." "He did," replied the pastor, speaking in a manner which convinced Christian that he had not met his friend's thought. "Would you have been busier in France than you are here," he asked, "if the French king had not sent you away?" "Perhaps I might; but God appoints his servants their station; and I am content. I am content to be the minister of his grace, and bless him for lightening the hearts of others. He will strengthen me to bear the burden of my own." After a moment's thought on the peculiar sadness of the pastor's tone, Christian laid his arm on his friend's shoulder, and whispered, "_I_ love Gertrude very much too; and I always thought----I was so surprised when she told me----" "Say no more about it, my boy. Talk rather of my country, or of my kindred, or of anything else that I have lost."