As he sat without his rock fortress, in the shadow of birch-trees, with lower hills and glens at his feet, he had a pale vision of Europe, of the world.

Countries and times showed themselves contiguous.

"Causes," dynastic wars, political life, life in other molds and hues, appeared in chords and sequences and strokes of the eye, rather than in the old way of innumerable, vivid, but faintly connected points.

"I begin to see," thought Ian, "how things travel together, like with like!" His body was rested, recovered, his mind invigorated.

He had had with him for long days the very elixir of solitude.