eople at the gate, to enable him to realize the dreadful
calamity which had overtaken him. The panting horse stopped before the
door, and Paul's limbs almost failed him as he dragged himself into the
house.

"O Paul," sobbed his mother, who met him at the door, "I thought you
would never come. I'm afraid you won't have a father a great while
longer."

"Forgive me, mother, for what I did," cried Paul.

"I do forgive you, my son; but come, your poor father wants to see you
very much."

His mother took him by the hand, and led him into the chamber where his
father lay. He was shocked by the change which a few short hours had
produced, and he needed not the skill of the physicians to assure him
that Mr. Duncan had but a short time to live.

"Paul," said his father, faintly, "I shall soon be no more, and I leave
your mother and your brothers and sisters to your care. Take good care
of them, Paul, for they will soon have no one else to help them. Be a
good boy, and be an honest man, and everything will go well with you. Be
true to your God and true to yourself, and then all the world cannot
harm you. May God keep you in the path of duty as long as you live."

Mr. Duncan closed his eyes with an audible sigh, and Paul burst into
tears, realizing that he was about to lose the kindest and best of
fathers.

"Don't cry, my boy," said the sufferer; "be a man, and in a little while
the struggle will be over with me."

The whole family were gathered round the bed, and Mr. Duncan gave them
his blessing, for the doctors assured him his hour was at hand. We will
not dwell upon the painful scene. In an hour all was still in that room
save the sobs of the bereaved widow, who stood gazing in agony upon the
silent form which she had seen go out from her that morning in the full
vigor of health and strength. The angel of death was there, and had done
his work.

Paul was stupefied by the suddenness of the shock, and all the currents
of his existence seemed to stop in their flow. He spent the afternoon in
his chamber, trying to understand the nature of his situation. He had
dried his tears, but the deeper grief had gone in upon his heart. He
spent a wakeful night in thinking of the past, and in endeavoring to
make himself believe that his father was dead. All that he had ever done
for him, all that he had ever said to him, came up before him with a
vividness that made them seem like realities.

In this condition he moved about the