It seemed to fulfil all that Alfred had wished.  He lay still between waking and sleeping for a long time afterwards, and then begged for Paul to read to him the last chapters of the Book of Revelation.  Matilda wished to read them for him; but he said, ‘Paul, please.’  Paul’s voice was fuller and softer when it was low; his accent helped the sense, and Alfred was more used to them than to his visitor sister.  Perhaps there was still another reason, for when Paul came to the end, and was turning the leaves for one of Alfred’s favourite bits, he saw Alfred’s eyes on him, as if he wanted to speak.  It was to say, ’Brothers quite now, Paul!  Thank you.  I think God must have sent you to help me.’

Alfred seemed better all the evening, and they went to bed in good spirits; but at midnight, Mr. Cope, who was very deeply studying and praying, the better to fit himself for his new office in the ministry, was just going to shut his book, and go up to bed, when he heard a tremulous ring at the bell.

It was Harold, his face looking very white in the light from Mr. Cope’s candle.

‘Oh! please, Sir,’ he said, ’Alfred is worse; and Mother said, if your light wasn’t out, you’d like to know.’

‘I am very grateful to her,’ said Mr. Cope; and taking up his plaid, he wrapped one end round the boy, and put his arm round him, as he felt him quaking as Paul had done before, but not crying—­too much awe-struck for that.  He said that his mother thought something had broken in the lungs, and that he would be choked.  Mr. Cope made the more haste, that he might judge if the doctor would be of any use.

Paul was sitting up in his bed—­they had not let him get up—­but his eyes were wide open with distress, as he plainly heard the loud sob that each breath had become.  Mrs. King was holding Alfred up in her arms; Matilda was trying to chafe his feet; Ellen was kneeling with her face hidden.

The light of sense and meaning was not gone from Alfred’s eyes, though the last struggle had come.  He gave a look as though he were glad to see Mr. Cope, and then gazed on his brother.  Mrs. King signed to Harold to come nearer, and whispered, ‘Kiss him.’  His sisters had done so, and he had missed Harold.  Then Mr. Cope prayed, and Alfred’s eyes at first owned the sounds; but soon they were closed, and the long struggling breaths were all that shewed that the spirit was still there.

’He shall swallow up death in victory, and the Lord God shall wipe away tears from all eyes.’

One moment, and the blue eyes they knew so well were opened and smiling on his mother, and then —

It was over; and through affliction and pain, the young spirit had gone to rest!