“My professional career is over,” resumed he, calmly. “I may return to Hilary, and die in peace.” Maurice concealed his face. “Yes, death may be slow, but it will be certain; so it is to all: only I _feel_ his cold finger touching me. The spine is irrecoverably injured, and I shall never stand on the quarter deck again.” “Poor Hilary!” “Yes, poor Hilary; she will suffer: it will be your duty to comfort her when I am gone; but I trust I shall see her again. Maurice, you need not pity me very much. One can not live on earth for ever, and to die for duty has been my first wish.” “Hepburn, I must go home with you.” “Maurice, you must not! you can not! there is your profession!” “I don’t care, I will renounce it――quit the service――give up any thing to be of use to you.” “Madness――think of your sisters; you know they look to you for help――of your honor! your prospects in life! would you give up all, and do me no good? I will not hear of it.” “What steps shall you take?” said Maurice, resolved, yet unwilling to dispute the topic. “I shall apply for a survey in due form; there is not much question of the incapacity of a man who can not stir a step, nor stand upright; and go home next packet.” “And the ship?” “Ah, dear old _Erratic_. I have, I suppose, taken my last leave of her. Thank my men, Duncan; thank them from me, for their zeal and care. I fear I shall never see them again, nor hear their farewell cheer as I go over the ship’s side for the last time.” He turned his face a little more toward his pillow, and whispered something about Hilary, which Maurice did not catch. However things were ordered somewhat differently. The next day, Maurice hurried to the hospital, with a face in which various feelings contended strongly, though pleasure might be seen flashing up amid pain. “What has happened?” inquired the senior, as he saw his countenance. “I shall go home with you, after all,” said Maurice; “I am promoted!” “Ah! how glad I am, my dear fellow, I wish you joy; promoted! how?” “From home; _how_ I don’t know! I have no interest, you know, and none to care for me _now_.” A shade came over his face, as he thought how his other step had been gained. “Well, you deserve it, Maurice, as much as any one; there is no need of considering it the result of interest; your own merits have, no doubt, been the cause; and it is come in time to reward your bravery the other night; for your sake, _all_ your sakes, I am glad. How your sisters will rejoice; dear Hilary! But I wish you had been appointed to a ship out here, to have served your time at once.” “I am sure I don’t. The best part of it is the being able to go home with you. I should care little for it otherwise. But I must tell you what the Admiral said. You know he came in yesterday about sunset; and the mail arrived this morning.”