sion and argument he could think
of, to convince the terrified creature that his imagination had deceived
him, and that this close resemblance between the creation of his dreams
and the man he supposed he had seen was but a proof of it; but all in
vain. When he could persuade him to remain, for a few moments, in the
care of the people to whom the house belonged, he instituted a strict
inquiry whether any stranger had been seen, and searched himself
behind the tree, and through the orchard, and upon the land immediately
adjoining, and in every place near, where it was possible for a man
to lie concealed; but all in vain. Satisfied that he was right in his
original conjecture, he applied himself to calming the fears of Smike,
which, after some time, he partially succeeded in doing, though not in
removing the impression upon his mind; for he still declared, again and
again, in the most solemn and fervid manner, that he had positively seen
what he had described, and that nothing could ever remove his conviction
of its reality.

And now, Nicholas began to see that hope was gone, and that, upon the
partner of his poverty, and the sharer of his better fortune, the world
was closing fast. There was little pain, little uneasiness, but there
was no rallying, no effort, no struggle for life. He was worn and wasted
to the last degree; his voice had sunk so low, that he could scarce be
heard to speak. Nature was thoroughly exhausted, and he had lain him
down to die.

On a fine, mild autumn day, when all was tranquil and at peace: when the
soft sweet air crept in at the open window of the quiet room, and not a
sound was heard but the gentle rustling of the leaves: Nicholas sat in
his old place by the bedside, and knew that the time was nearly come.
So very still it was, that, every now and then, he bent down his ear to
listen for the breathing of him who lay asleep, as if to assure himself
that life was still there, and that he had not fallen into that deep
slumber from which on earth there is no waking.

While he was thus employed, the closed eyes opened, and on the pale face
there came a placid smile.

'That's well!' said Nicholas. 'The sleep has done you good.'

'I have had such pleasant dreams,' was the answer. 'Such pleasant, happy
dreams!'

'Of what?' said Nicholas.

The dying boy turned towards him, and, putting his arm about his neck,
made answer, 'I shall soon be there!'

After a short silence, he spoke again.

'