“But at last Skelton won Lewis over; he won Sylvia Shapleigh; he won the power to work; he won everything; only this day he won the battle over himself; he was generous to Blair, and then in the midst of it comes Death, the great jester, and says, ‘Mount behind me; leave all unfinished.’ And Skelton went. The little spark of soul went, that is, and left behind the mass of the body it dragged around after it.” Bulstrode paused again, and Conyers, opening the Bible, read some of the promises out of the Gospel of Matthew. Bulstrode listened attentively. “Read that part where it commands the forgiveness of enemies,” he said. Conyers read them, his voice, although low, echoing solemnly through the great, high-pitched hall. Bulstrode covered his face with his hands, and then, rising suddenly, went a second time to the library. He came back in a few moments. His coarse face was pale, his eyes dimmed. “I have forgiven him--I have forgiven Skelton,” he said. “He was not good to me, although he was a thousand, thousand times better to me than I was to myself; but I have forgiven him all I had against him. The dead are so meek; even the proud Skelton looks meek in death. And I tell you, he was a man all but great--all but good.” The lamp was burning low; there was a faint flutter of sparrows’ wings under the eaves; a wind, fresh and soft, rustled among the climbing roses that clung to the outer wall; a blackbird burst suddenly into his homely song, as if bewitched with the ecstasy of the morning. The pale grey light that penetrated the chinks and crannies of the hall changed as if by magic to a rosy colour. The day was at hand. Conyers closed his Bible, and said, with solemn joy, to Bulstrode: “And so you fear all this is true? What ineffable comfort it gives me! A man of your learning and--” “Learning!” cried Bulstrode, throwing himself back in his chair. “Look at _It_ in yonder! _It_ was learned; _I_ am learned; but all of us can only cry, as the Breton mariners do when they put to sea: ‘Lord, have mercy upon us! for our boat is so small, and Thy ocean is so black and so wide!’” “Amen!” said Conyers, after a moment. THE END. Popular Copyright Books AT MODERATE PRICES Any of the following titles can be bought of your bookseller at 50 cents per volume.