One day Grant was clear of head, but weaker, and talked with me long of his affairs.

“I’m afraid I can’t fight it out after all,” he said, “though you mustn’t let Jean and the children know that yet.”

We talked more of what I should do if the worst came, and then he sent for the children.  He addressed himself to the Ape first, the brave boy’s eyes full of tears and his whole body trembling as he listened: 

“My boy, you are hardly a man yet, but I know your manliness.  If I cannot stay with you, you will become the practical head of the family.  Make them all proud of you.  And care for your mother always as you would for your own life or whatever is greatest.”  Then he called the others to him: 

“You heard what I just said.  I spoke to the Ape only because he is oldest.  Remember that I have said this thing to all of you.  I needn’t say it, I know—­my blessed boys and girls—­you understand.  But live for your little mother always.”

I cannot describe what those young people said or did.  It was most pitiful.  It was brave and sweet, too.  But they would not let their father die.  He must not!  They could not face the fact.

Jean came then, and we three were left alone for a time.  She sat beside the bed, for he wanted his hand in hers when possible, and he spoke slowly: 

“Jean, I don’t know.  There must be another world, as we have trusted.  The great Power that fitted us to each other so will surely bring us together again.  Let us look at it that way.  We’ll imagine that I’m only going to the country, and that you are to join me.  That is all.  I know it.  God knows.  He will adjust it somehow.”

Jean did not answer.  She but clasped his hand and looked into his face.  I feared she would die of a bursting heart.  From that time till the end she never left his bedside.

Murderous Death has certain kindnesses in his killings.  Just before the end is peace.  The struggles of this strong man became something fearful as the lungs congested, and the most powerful of anti-pyretics ceased to have effect, and then came the peace which follows nature’s virtual surrender, the armistice of the moment.  What trick of reversion to first impressions comes, and what causes it, none have yet explained, but long before the time of Falstaff men, dying, had babbled o’ green fields.  Grant Harlson, now, was surely dying.  The physicians had warned us all, and we were all about his bedside.  As for me, thank God, the tears could come as they did to the children.  But there were none upon the cheeks of Jean.  Her sweet face was as if of stone; whiter than that of the man in the bed.