im.

"You?" he faltered. "Do I behold you entered into the creed?"

"Listen to me, Nick, for the time is short," I said, as I held his hand
close in mine. "We were blind--blind. When you and the children were in
that death house I found that I must ask help. I cried out in my
blindness and was answered, as Christ gave his promise that the eyes of
those who ask should be opened. And you must ask so that you will have
a vision to help--help you go to the blessed immortality that awaits
you. Ask, Oh, Nick, ask with me. Please, Lord Jesus, help us!" And as I
uttered my few faltering words of petition I fell on my knees beside the
bed.

"It's too late now," he answered, but a helplessness came into his
bitterness. "I've done all the damage I could and I'm not going to
whimper. You'll help poor Martha?" he questioned softly, and I could
have cried out in thankfulness for the ray of tenderness that came
across his white face.

"God has given you time to right the worst wrong, Nick," I said, as a
sudden thought came to me that gave to me a healing which I knew I must
pour out upon his wounds. "Marry Martha and give the boy your name and
your money to grow good and great with. Jacob is dead. They are alone in
the world. Give them to me that way, Nick, give them to me to care for
for you until we are all together where everything is made right."

For a long moment he lay perfectly still and looked into my eyes and I
saw a wonder grow in his that spread all over his whole face.

"Some kind of a God must have created a woman like that in you. Almost
I believe. Call Goodloe quick, and your father." And then he closed his
eyes and I could see a deathly weakness stealing over him. I called the
nurse and sent her for father and Gregory Goodloe, and to old Dabney who
had come to wait by the door I whispered to bring Martha and the boy and
keep them in the room beyond. Then I went back and knelt by the pillow
and took the hand which was beginning to grow cold in mine.

"Could it be possible?" the white lips muttered.

"Say it, Nickols; say, 'Lord, help thou my unbelief,'" I begged him.

"Amen," he whispered with a quick smile just as father and Gregory
Goodloe came into the room.

"Goodloe, what was the exact story about that skulker of a thief on the
cross?" Nickols asked with a sudden strength in his voice as he opened
his eyes and looked straight at the parson.

"'The thief said unto Jesus, "Lord, remember me when thou com