pour balm into the wound: none but He could kill death,
that dead dried heart, and quicken life within its mummied caverns: none
but the Voice, which said "Let there be light," could work this common
miracle of "Let there be love."

He grew feebler--feebler, that dying kind old man: it had been too much
for him, doubtlessly; he had long been ill, and should long ago have
died; but that he had lived for this; and now the end seemed near. They
never left his bed-side then for days and nights, that new-found son and
daughter: physicians came, and recommended that the knight be quite
alone, quite undisturbed: but Sir Thomas would not, could not--it were
cruelty to force it; so he lay feebly on his back, holding on either
side the hands of Henry and Maria.

It was not so very long: they had come almost in the nick of time: a few
days and hours at the most, and all will then be over. So did they watch
and pray.

And the old man faintly whispered:

"Henry--son Henry: poor John, forgive him, as you and our God have now
forgiven me; poor John--when he comes back again from those long years
of slavery, give him a home, son--give him a home, and enough to keep
him honest; tell him I love him, and forgive him; and remind him that I
died, praying Heaven for my poor boy's soul.

"Henry and Maria--I had, since my great distresses, well nigh forgotten
this world's wealth; but now, thank God, I have thought of it all for
your sakes: in my worst estate of mind I made a wicked will. It is in
that drawer--quick, give it me.

"Thanks--thanks--there is time to tear it; and these good friends, Dr.
Jones and Mr. Blair, take witness--I destroy this wicked will; and my
only child, Maria, has my wealth in course of law. Wealth, yes--if well
used, let us call it wealth; for riches may indeed be made a mine of
good, and joy, and righteousness. I am unworthy to use any of it well,
unworthy of the work, unworthy of the reward: use it well, my holier
children, wisely, liberally, kindly: God give you to do great good with
it; God give you to feel great happiness in all your doing good. My
hands that saved and scraped it all, also often-times by evil hardness,
now penitently washed in the Fountain of Salvation, heartily renounce
that evil. Be ye my stewards; give liberally to many needy. Oh me, my
sin! children, to my misery you know what need is: I can say no more;
poor sinful man, how dare I preach to others? Children, dearest ones, I
am a fath