We went on board the next steamer that started, and in two hours we landed at Greenock. I led the way to the small lodging in which I had left my patient; and leaving Douglas at the door, went in to inquire into the state of the sufferer's health, and to prepare him for his visitor. I found him asleep; but his was not the slumber that refreshes--the restless and unquiet spirit within was disturbing the rest of the fevered and fatigued body. His flushed cheek lay upon one arm, while his other was every now and then convulsively raised above his head, and his lips moved with indistinct mutterings. "He is asleep," said I to Douglas; "we must wait till he awakens." "Oh, let me look at him," said he; "it can do no harm. He must be an old shipmate of poor Harry's; perhaps he has some memento of him for me." "Very well," said I; "you may come in; but make as little noise as possible." We walked up gently to the bed; Douglas looked earnestly at the sleeper, and, suddenly raising his clasped hands, he exclaimed-- "Merciful heaven! it is Henry himself!" The poor patient started with a wild and fevered look. "Who called me? I thought I heard Charles' voice! Where am I? Give way in the boat!--oh, spare me, spare me, Charles!--Fire!--Down with them! Hurra!"--And, waving his hands above his head, he sunk down again on has bed, exhausted. He soon fell into a deep slumber, which lasted for some hours. I was sitting by his bedside when he awoke. "How do you feel now?" said I. "O doctor! I am dying. I have been dreaming: I thought I heard the voice of one I have deeply injured--nay, I dreamt I _saw_ him; but changed, how changed!--and I--I have been the cause of it." Here he was interrupted by the smothered sobs of poor Douglas, or Charles, as I now must call him. "Who is that? there is somebody else in the room," said he; and, drawing the curtain aside, he saw his brother. "Then it was no dream! O Charles!" and, turning round, he buried his face in the pillow. Douglas sprang forward, and, throwing himself on the bed, gave way to a violent burst of emotion. "Henry! dear Henry! look at me--it _is_ your brother, Henry!" The dying man groaned. "I cannot look you in the face, Charles," said he, "till you say you have forgiven me." "Forgiven you!" replied the other; "bless you! bless you, Henry! if you did but know the load of remorse that the sight of you has relieved me from! Thank heaven I was _not_ your murderer!" "And can you forget the past, Charles?" said Henry. "Do not my ears deceive me? Do you really forgive me?" "Freely, fully, from my heart!" was the reply; "the joy of meeting you again, even thus, repays me for all I have suffered." "O Charles!" again ejaculated Henry, "you were always generous and forgiving; but this is more than I expected from you." I was now going to leave the room; but my patient, noticing my intention, begged me to remain.