98 THE SHIPWRECK,

self a soft and comfortable mattrass, which he spread on
his newly made bedstead. By doubling the upper end of
this mossy couch he supplied the want of a pillow.

Busily occupied with a variety of little matters, Philip
gave himself no time to think about the fate of Charles.

Towards evening he saw Neptune making for the valley :
the sagacious animal quickly devoured the morsel that
Philip threw him, and immediately hurried back.

Reminded of Charles by the visit of the dog, he exclaimed,
“What has become of the count? Perhaps he is dan-
gerously sick? How barbarous was it in me to insult,
provoke and threaten him as [ did? Surely his proud
heart will break, rather than brook my presence. I need
never expect to see him again at the foot of his favourite
linden tree.” And Philip chided himself severely for his
selfish behaviour.

But the novelty of his bed—the delicious and undis-
turbed slumbers it promised him, and the soothing fra-
grance of the balmy air, calmed hisself reproach. He did
not reflect that a troubled conscience can find no repose—
that neither roses nor down can render the pillow soft to
him on whose vitals the vulture of revenge is feasting.
A few short hours sufficed to dissipate the delusive tran-
quillity that was so gently beguiling him. Again the hour