"Then I saw that it was Dimas; yet to this wicked criminal there remained
but little of the shepherd child whom I had seen in all his innocence upon
the hillside. Long years of sinful life had seared their marks into his
face; yet now, at the sound of that familiar voice, somewhat of the
old-time boyish look came back, and in the yearning of the anguished eyes
I seemed to see the shepherd's son again.

"'The Master!' cried Dimas, and he stretched forth his neck that he might
see him that spake.

"'O Dimas, how art thou changed!' cried the Master, yet there was in his
voice no tone of rebuke save that which cometh of love.

"Then Dimas wept, and in that hour he forgot his pain. And the Master's
consoling voice and the Master's presence there wrought in the dying
criminal such a new spirit, that when at last his head fell upon his
bosom, and the men about the cross said that he was dead, it seemed as if
I shined not upon a felon's face, but upon the face of the gentle shepherd
lad, the son of Benoni.

"And shining on that dead and peaceful face, I bethought me of the little
Master's words that he had spoken under the old olive-tree upon the
hillside: 'Your eyes behold the promised glory now, O Dimas,' I whispered,
'for with the Master you walk in Paradise.'"

Ah, little Dear-my-Soul, you know--you know whereof the moonbeam spake.
The shepherd's bones are dust, the flocks are scattered, the old
olive-tree is gone, the flowers of the hillside are withered, and none
knoweth where the grave of Dimas is made. But last night, again, there