about the end, till thy
deeming of folly and ours shall be one, and thy hope and our hope; and
then--the Day will have come."

Once more I heard the voice of John Ball: "Now, brother, I say
farewell; for now verily hath the Day of the Earth come, and thou and I
are lonely of each other again; thou hast been a dream to me as I to
thee, and sorry and glad have we made each other, as tales of old time
and the longing of times to come shall ever make men to be. I go to
life and to death, and leave thee; and scarce do I know whether to wish
thee some dream of the days beyond thine to tell what shall be, as thou
hast told me, for I know not if that shall help or hinder thee; but
since we have been kind and very friends, I will not leave thee without
a wish of good-will, so at least I wish thee what thou thyself wishest
for thyself, and that is hopeful strife and blameless peace, which is
to say in one word, life. Farewell, friend."

For some little time, although I had known that the daylight was
growing and what was around me, I had scarce seen the things I had
before noted so keenly; but now in a flash I saw all--the east crimson
with sunrise through the white window on my right hand; the
richly-carved stalls and gilded screen work, the pictures on the walls,
the loveliness of the faultless colour of the mosaic window lights, the
altar and the red light over it looking strange in the daylight, and
the biers with the hidden dead men upon them that lay before the high
altar. A great pain filled my heart at the sight of all that beauty,
and withal I heard quick steps coming up the paved church-path to the
porch, and the loud whistle of a sweet old tune therewith; then the
footsteps stopped at the door; I heard the latch rattle, and knew that
Will Green's hand was on the ring of it.

Then I strove to rise up, but fell back again; a white light, empty of
all sights, broke upon me for a moment, and lo I behold, I was lying in
my familiar bed, the south-westerly gale rattling the Venetian blinds
and making their hold-fasts squeak.

I got up presently, and going to the window looked out on the winter
morning; the river was before me broad between outer bank and bank, but
it was nearly dead ebb, and there was a wide space of mud on each side
of the hurrying stream, driven on the faster as it seemed by the push
of the south-west wind. On the other side of the water the few
willow-trees left us by the Thames Conservancy looke