Meanwhile Brettison had hunted out a brawny pleasant-faced fisherman's wife, who had been pointed out to him as an able nurse, and placed their charge in her care--the ex-convict obeying her lightest sign and giving little trouble, suffering himself to be led to some nook or other at the foot of the high cliffs, where he would sit down, watched by his attendant--the Breton woman--while Brettison busied himself on the cliffs collecting. There was no trouble; the man grew more apathetic day by day, and Brettison took care that his companion should not come in contact with him, for fear of reviving some memory of the past and causing a scene. "And he is so good and patient, m'sieu," the nurse would say, looking up from the knitting over which she was busy; "and he is growing well and strong, oh, so fast. It is our beautiful bay, monsieur. Yes, everyone grows strong and well here." She nodded as if there was no contradicting this, and Brettison went in search of Stratton with a bunch of plants in his hand, and a curiously puzzled look in his eyes. "Suppose he does get well and strong," he thought to himself. "I ought to be glad, but am not." He found Stratton sitting back, with his shoulders against the cliff, dreaming of the past, and then of the future, more at rest than he had been for months, and as Brettison drew near he brightened a little, and smiled. For the nurse's words applied to his friend as well, and he was certainly growing stronger and better. A healthy brown was coming into his face, and in spite of the dreamy reverie into which he plunged, a more even balance was coming to his mind. "One must reckon one against the other," Brettison said to himself. As the days glided by, and they gained confidence from their charge's dull, dreamy condition, Brettison proposed, and Stratton readily agreed, to make little excursions with him inland, or along the coast to some of the quaint villages, or antique--so-called Druidical--remains; and after each trip they returned to find nurse and patient just as they had left them. The confidence increased, and it became evident that Stratton had only to keep away for their charge to go on in his old vacant manner from day to day. His habits were simple and full of self-indulgence, if there could be any enjoyment to a mind so blank. He rose late, and went to bed soon after sundown, and the evenings were looked forward to by Stratton and Brettison for their quiet dinner at the little inn where Stratton stayed. Here, as they sat over their wine and had cigars, watching the evening skies and the glorious star-gemmed sea, a feeling of restfulness came over them, and they leaned back with the feeling of convalescents whose wounds were healing fast after they had been very nearly to the gates of death.