"I'll bet that's a fellow who has got on in the world," thought Roy to himself as he scanned the capable, strong features.
"Ah," said the old man, observing the lad's interest in the painting, "that picture is a relic of old, old days. It is a portrait of my brother James. He----But I must tell you how I came to be in the sad condition in which you found me. Have you a comfortable chair, miss? Yes, very well, then I will tell you what happened this afternoon in this hut, and will then relate to you something of my own story for I was not always a hermit and an outcast."
"My name is Peter Bell," began the old man, "and many years ago I was like any other happy, care-free young man, who is the son of well-to-do parents. I had a brother named James Bell, who was much younger than me. We were very fond of each other and inseparable.
"Our home was on the Long Island coast and we often went boating. One day when we were out in my boat a storm came up and she capsized. I tried to save my brother who was a poor swimmer. But in the midst of my efforts the bulwark of the wave-tossed boat struck my head and rendered me insensible. It seems, however, I must have clung to the boat, for when I came to myself I had almost been blown ashore, and, striking out, I soon reached it.
"But to my horror I soon saw that people shunned me. In some way the story got about that I had saved myself at the expense of my brother's life. Such stories are always readily credited among the majority of people in a small town and the tale spread like wildfire with exaggerations. Driven half wild by the general contempt which I met on every side I left home one night, and having a sum of money in my own right I decided to live the life of a recluse.
"I recollected this spot to which I had come on hunting expeditions in brighter days. Not long after, grief over my brother's death resulted in my mother's life coming to a close, and shortly afterward my father's demise occurred.
"They left but little, but I managed to secure that portrait of my brother you see hanging up there and a few bits of favorite furniture associated with happier times.
"I have lived here ever since and have become reconciled to my fate. From time to time I used to advertise for news of my brother, offering rewards, but long ago I stopped that, and have no doubt that he perished in the storm, although for a time I comforted myself by thinking that he might, by some strange chance, have been saved.