But as none came, gradually their fears were dispelled and they began to think the alarm had been a false one.
All this time Alfred Clarke was recovering his health and strength.
The day came when he was able to leave his bed and sit by the window.

How glad it made him feel to look out on the green woods and the broad, winding river; how sweet to his ears were the songs of the birds; how soothing was the drowsy hum of the bees in the fragrant honeysuckle by his window.

His hold on life had been slight and life was good.

He smiled in pitying derision as he remembered his recklessness.

He had not been in love with life.