lavished upon him now all the wealth of love her unconscious years had
gathered. Orange seemed to agree with her master that all was well.
She came and went, but not sadly, and crooned to herself some strange
African tune that rose and fell more like a chant of triumph than a
dirge. She was doing her part, according to her light, to ease the
going of the soul out of this world.

Grayer grew the worn face, fainter the voice, colder the shrivelled
old hands in the girl's fond clasp.

'Jarvis, Jarvis, what is this?' she murmured, fearfully.

Waring came to her side and put his strong arm around her. 'My little
wife,' he said, 'this is Death. But do not fear.'

And then he told her the story of the Cross; and, as it came to her a
revelation, so, in the telling, it became to him, for the first time,
a belief.

Old Fog told them to bury him out in deep water, as he had buried the
others; and then he lay placid, a great happiness shining in his eyes.

'It is well,' he said, 'and God is very good to me. Life would have
been hard without you, darling. Something seemed to give way when you
said good by; but now that I am called, it is sweet to know that you
are happy, and sweeter still to think that you came back to me at the
last. Be kind to her, Waring. I know you love her; but guard her
tenderly,--she is but frail. I die content, my child, quite content;
do not grieve for me.'