he Great Silencer.

Percy had to leave us now, in order to go to the _Haste_ and see about
things there. He said he would be back in the afternoon. He would, of
course, take over the business of making the last sad arrangements, which
Jane called, rather crudely, 'seeing about the funeral'; the twins would
always call spades 'spades.'

Presently I made the suggestion which I had for some time had in my mind.

'May I, dear?' I asked very softly, half rising.

Jane rose, too.

'See Oliver, you mean? Oh, yes. He's in his room.'

I motioned her back. 'Not you, darling. Johnny will take me.'

Johnny didn't want to much, I think; it is the sort of strain on the
emotions that he dislikes, but he came with me.

8

What had been Oliver lay on the bed, stretched straight out, the
beautiful face as white and delicate as if modelled in wax. One saw no
marks of injury; except for that waxy pallor he might have been sleeping.

In the presence of the Great White Silence I bowed my head and wept. He
was so beautiful, and had been so alive. I said so to Johnny.

'He was so alive,' I said, 'so short a time ago.'

'Yes,' Johnny muttered, staring down at the bed, his hands in his
pockets. 'Yesterday, of course. Rotten bad luck, poor old chap. Rotten
way to get pipped.'

For a minute longer I kept my vigil beside that inanimate form.

'Peace, peace, he is not dead,' I repeated to myself. 'He sleeps whom men
call dead.... The soul of Adonais, like a star, beckons from the abode
where the eternal are.'

Death is wonderful to me; not a horrible thing, but holy and high. Here
was the lovely mortal shell, for which 'arrangements' had to be made; but
the spirit which had informed it was--where? In what place, under what
conditions, would Oliver Hobart now fulfil himself, now carry on the work
so faithfully begun on earth? What word would he be able to send us from
that Place of Being? Time would (I hoped) show.

As we stood there in the shadow of the Great Mystery, I heard Frank
talking to Clare, whose room was next door.

'It is wrong to give way.... One must not grieve for the dead as if one
would recall them. We know--you and I know, don't we, Clare--that they
are happier where they are. And we know too, that it is God's will, and
that He decides everything for the best. We must not rebel against
it.... If you really want to catch the 12.4 to Potter's Bar, we ought to
start now.'

Conventional phraseology! It would neve