ty."

After he was gone, Wikkey lay very still, with his eyes fixed intently
on the fire. Lawrence dreaded what his next question might be, and at
last it came.

"What does it mean--See the King?"

"It means that we shall all see Him some day, Wikkey, when--when--we
die. It will be beautiful to see the King, won't it?"

"Yes," said the child, dreamily. "I'd like to see Him. I know as I'm
going to die; but will it be soon? Oh, Lawrence! must it be directly?"
and as he clung convulsively to him, the young man felt the little heart
beating wildly.

"Wikkey--little lad--dear little lad--don't be frightened," he said,
stroking the boy's head; "don't be frightened;" but still the eyes
questioned him with agonized eagerness, and he knew he must answer, but
his voice was very husky, and he felt the task a hard one.

"I'll tell you, Wikkey. I think the King loves you so much that He wants
you to come to Him, and not to be ill any more, nor have any more bad
pain or coughing. That would be nice, wouldn't it?--never to feel ill
any more, and to see the King."

"Yes," Wikkey said, with a long sigh, "it would be ever so nice; but,
oh! I _don't_ want for to leave you, Lawrence--won't you come, too?"

"Some day, please God; but that must be as the King likes--perhaps He
will not want me to come yet. I must try to do anything He wants me to
do here first."

"Should you like to come now, Lawrence?"

The question was rather a relief, for a sense of being unreal had come
over Lawrence while he spoke, and he answered quickly--

"No, I had rather not go yet, Wikkey: but you see I am well and strong.
I think if I were ill like you I should like it; and you need not feel
frightened, for the King will not leave you. He will be taking care of
you all the time, and you will go to Him."

"Are you quite certain?"

No room for doubt here--and the answer came unhesitatingly--"Quite
certain, Wikkey."

"And you are _sure_ that you'll come too?"

"I wish I were half as certain," the young man thought, with a sigh,
then said aloud--"If I try to obey the King I hope I shall."

"But you will try--you will, Lawrence!" cried Wikkey, passionately.

Very quietly and low Lawrence answered--"By God's help--Yes!" and he
bent and kissed the child's forehead, as if to seal the vow.

Wikkey seemed satisfied, and in a few minutes was dozing again.
He slept for an hour after being put to bed, but then grew
restless, and the night passed wearily