othing murmur of a loving mother's lullaby, and the
radiance of the moonlight flooded the little room with mystical glory.
In her womanly tenderness she drew him more protectingly into the
embrace of her kind arm, as though seeking to hold him back from the
abyss of the Unknown, and held his head close against her breast. He
opened his eyes and saw her thus bending over him. A smile brightened
his face--a smile of youth, and hope, and confidence.

"The end is near, Mary!" he said in a clear, calm voice; "but--it's not
difficult! There is no pain. And you are with me. That is enough!--that
is more than I ever hoped for!--more than I deserve! God bless you
always!"

He shut his eyes again--but opened them quickly in a sudden struggle for
breath.

"The papers!" he gasped. "Mary--Mary--you won't forget--your promise!"

"No, David!--dear David!" she sobbed. "I won't forget!"

The paroxysm passed, and his hand wandered over the coverlet, where it
encountered the soft, crouching head of the little dog who was lying
close to him, shivering in every limb.

"Why, here's Charlie!" he whispered, weakly. "Poor wee Charlie! 'Take
care of me' is written on his collar. Mary will take care of you,
Charlie!--good-bye, little man!"

He lay quiet then, but his eyes were wide open, gazing not upward, but
straight ahead, as though they saw some wondrous vision in the little
room.

"Strange!--strange that I did not know all this before!" he
murmured--and then was silent, still gazing straight before him. All at
once a great shudder shook his body--and his thin features grew suddenly
pinched and wan.

"It is almost morning!" he said, and his voice was like an echo of
itself from very far away. "The sun will rise--but I shall not be here
to see the sun or you, Mary!" and rallying his fast ebbing strength he
turned towards her. "Keep your arms about me!--pray for me!--God will
hear you--God must hear His own! Don't cry, dear! Kiss me!"

She kissed him, clasping his poor frail form to her heart as though he
were a child, and tenderly smoothing back his venerable snow-white
hair. A slumbrous look of perfect peace softened the piteousness of his
dying eyes.

"The only treasure!" he murmured, faintly. "The treasure of
Heaven--Love! God bless you for giving it to me, Mary!--good-bye, my
dear!"

"Not good-bye, David!" she cried. "No--not good-bye!"

"Yes--good-bye!" he said,--and then, as another strong shudder convulsed
him, he made