The talk between them at their first meeting in this far-off land, was long and pleasant, and when the good-night was given, it was with strange feelings that Stanley turned into his allotted sleeping place in a regular bed. After all the toils and almost unnatural excitement of the day, he soon sank into profound slumber. The next morning he awoke with a start, and looked about him for a moment in a dazed way. He was not on the ground, but in a bed; a roof, not a tent, was above him, while not a sound broke the stillness save the steady, monotonous roar of the surf beating on the shore. As he lay and listened, strange thoughts and varied emotions chased each other in rapid succession through his heart. At length he arose and dressed himself, intending before breakfast to take a stroll along the shore of the lake. But the doctor was up before him and met him with a cordial "Good-morning," and the hope that he had rested well. Livingstone had sat up late reading the news that Stanley had brought him from the outside world, from which he had heard nothing for years. "Sit down," said the venerable man, "you have brought me good and bad news," and then he repeated, first of all, the tidings he had received from his children. In the excitement of the day before, the doctor had forgotten to inquire of Stanley the object of his coming, or where he was going, and the latter now said: "Doctor, you are probably wondering why I came here." "It is true," was the reply, "I have been wondering." That wonder was increased when Stanley said: "I came after you, nothing else." "After me!" exclaimed the now utterly bewildered man. "Yes," said Stanley, "after you. I suppose you have heard of the New York _Herald_?" "Yes," said the doctor. "Well, Mr. Bennett, son of the proprietor, sent me, at his own expense, to find you." Poor Livingstone could hardly comprehend the fact that an American, and a stranger, should expend $25,000 to find him, a solitary Englishman.