"Yes, the King," said little Stephen, "the dear Son. Will He talk to me, Granny Robin?" "Yes, my darling," she said; "He will feed you, and He will lead you to fountains of living waters, and you shall see His face, and His name shall be in your forehead. You could never enter the Garden if He had not died for you, and brought you into the Kingdom of Light." "I think I shall soon go now," said little Stephen. "Perhaps I shall be there to-morrow, Granny Robin." She took a very tender leave of him when his father came to carry him home to bed. He seemed more tired than usual that night, she thought; perhaps he had talked too much. He would be rested in the morning, she said to herself, as she took up her knitting. She could not see what Stephen's father saw as he lifted him from her knee—that a change was creeping over his little thin face. Aunt Cordelia saw it, too, as she came to kiss him when he was carried past her window; and she followed Stephen's father home, and helped him to undress the little boy, and to lay him in bed. "Thank you," said little Stephen, as he laid his head on the pillow; "I'm so tired." Aunt Cordelia sat down at the foot of the bed, and his father held his little hand in his, and turned away, that Stephen might not see his tears. All was very still, and they thought that he had fallen asleep, when he looked up and said— "I've never said 'Good-night' to Audrey." Aunt Cordelia went to fetch her. Audrey was in bed, but she wrapped her in a shawl and carried her in. Little Stephen sat up, put his arms round her neck, and whispered— "Don't forget the two grandchildren, Audrey; you'll keep them nice, won't you? Good-bye!" When Audrey had gone, he seemed to be sleeping again, and his father and Aunt Cordelia sat quite still, fearing to disturb him. It must have been more than two hours after this, that he stirred again. "What is it, Stephen?" asked his father. "What is it, my dear little lad?" "The graves—" said Stephen. "I never looked out to-night; take me to look at them, father." His father lifted him very gently and tenderly, and carried him to the window. It was full moon, and the churchyard was filled with the pale silvery light. The grave of the two grandchildren was bathed in the moonlight; and the child lay in his father's arms for a long time, looking at it. Then he suddenly raised his head, and said, with a cry of gladness— "Father, the angels have come! I can see them to-night." And then his head fell back heavily on his father's arm. Yes, the angels had come, and the little Child of Light had gone away with them. It was only Stephen's tiny worn-out body which his father laid back on the bed. Stephen was gone. He had passed above the churchyard; he had left the old city behind; he had gone higher than the moonlight, higher and higher still, to the King's Garden.