"Oh, go away, go away!" moaned Katherine, as the monotonous voice and the tall form of the clergyman forced itself into her consciousness again. "Go away and leave me with my dead!" She was dry-eyed and staring. She sat like one in a dream. She had not reckoned upon _this_ when she had felt that she was ready for anything that should come--anything that could come to her in the future. She was too dazed to grasp or adjust anything now. She only knew that she must be alone. "Go away! go away," she said looking up at Roy. He motioned the men and the minister out and closed and locked the door. When he returned to his mother's side her eyes were shut and her head was thrown back against the chair. There were no tears. He beckoned Judy to bring little Margaret, and he took his mother's arms and put them about the child, and his own were around both. His own eyes were streaming but hers were dry still. "Mother," he said softly, "mother," She did not answer. Presently she opened her eyes and they fell upon the child in her arms. "Poor fatherless child! Poor fatherless child!" she moaned, and the tears gushed forth, but her arms dropped slowly from Margaret's form, and she did not seem to want the child there. The streaming eyes traveled toward the couch and its silent occupant whose trials and struggles were indeed over at last. Oh, the irony of fate! No conflict of soul was before him, the dawn he had heralded--the brilliant day was come, was it not? Who was there to say? He was out of bondage at last--bondage to a conscience and a condition that tortured his brave, sensitive soul. The end of the sacrifice had come, but for what? To Katherine, as she gazed at him lying there in the gloom, it was dead sea-fruit indeed. She could not think. She only sat and stared, and was conscious of the dull dead pain--the worthlessness of all things. Roy bent down and stroked her hair and kissed her. She did not seem to know. "Shall we go away, too? _All_ of us, mother? Would you rather be alone--with father?" "Yes," she said feebly. "I will be alone always, alone now, always alone--alone!" "No, no, mother, you will have _all_ of us--all--all--but him. We will----" "Go away! go away, for a while," she said, and flung herself on her knees beside the couch. "Oh, Griffith, Griffith! What was it all for? All our suffering and trials and hopes and life? What was it all for at last?" she moaned with her arms about his lifeless form. "What did it all mean? What was it all for, if _this_ is the end? Oh, Griffith, Griffith! what was the use? What was the use--with _this_ for the end! I felt so safe about you, darling, now that you were here! I did not even think of you! I did not fear it was you! Oh, Griffith, Griffith! this is the end of all things! This is the end! This is the end! I do not care what else comes--I do not care--I do not care! What is a country? What are sons to _me_ now? I do not care! I do not care! This is the end!"