st moments of the sufferer.

The boy's rally was brief, for internal haemorrhage set in, and
swiftly wrought its fatal work, sweeping the vital tide along
channels through which it no longer returned to the fount of life,
and leaving the weary face with a pallor that overmastered the
flush that awhile before brought a momentary hope. His eyes grew
dim, and the light from the lamp seemed to recede, as though it
feared him, and would elude his gaze. The figures in the room
became mixed and commingled, and took shapes which at times he
failed to recognise. Then a sensation of falling seized him, and
he planted his hands on the cushion of the settle, as though he
would stay his descent.

Looking at Mr. Penrose through a ray of consciousness, he said:

'Th' cage is goin' daan fearfo quick. Pray!'

The old woman caught the word, and, turning to the minister, she
said:

'He wants thee to mak' a prayer.'

Mr. Penrose drew nearer to the boy, and repeated the grand
death-song of the saints: 'Yea, though I walk through the valley
of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil; for Thou art with me,
Thy rod and Thy staff they comfort me.'

The boy shook his head--for him the words had no meaning. Then,
raising himself, he said:

'Ax God O'meety to leet His candle. I'm baan along th' seam, an'
it's fearfo dark!'

To Mr. Penrose the words were strange, and, turning to the
colliers, he asked them what the boy wanted.

Then Malachi o' the Mount came towards the minister and said:

'Th' lad thinks he's i' th' four-foot seam, and he connot find his
road, it's so dark, and he wants a leet--a candle, yo' know, same
as we use in th' pit. He wants the Almeety to leet him along.'

Still Mr. Penrose was in darkness.

Then the boy turned to old Malachi, and, with a farewell look of
recognition and a last effort of speech, said:

'Malachi, ax Him as is aboon to leet His great candle, and show me
th' road along th' seam. It's some fearsome and dark.'

And Malachi knelt by the side of the lad, and, in broken accents
and rude vernacular, said:

'O God O'meety, little Job's baan along th' four-foot seam, an' he
connot see his gate (way). Leet Thy candle, Lord--Thy great
candle--and mak' it as leet as day for th' lad. Leet it, Lord, and
dunnot put it aat till he geds through to wheere they've no need
o' candles, becose Thaa gies them th' leet o' Thysel.'

The prayer over, every eye was turned to the boy, on whose face
there had b