Night wore away, the morning grew into day, and about twelve o'clock he insisted on getting up. She tried to persuade him, but he said he could not stop in bed; and there was nothing for it but to ask Mrs. Collins to help her dress him. They placed him comfortably in a chair. The cough had entirely ceased and he seemed better. And on Saturday night he slept better than he had done for a long while and woke up on Sunday morning refreshed and apparently much stronger. He had a nice bit of boiled rabbit for his dinner. He didn't speak much; Esther fancied that he was still thinking of them. When the afternoon waned, about four o'clock, he called Jack; he told him to sit in the light where he could see him, and he looked at his son with such wistful eyes. These farewells were very sad, and Esther had to turn aside to hide her tears. "I should have liked to have seen you a man, Jack." "Don't speak like that--I can't bear it," said the poor boy, bursting into tears. "Perhaps you won't die yet." "Yes, Jack; I'm wore out. I can feel," he said, pointing to his chest, "that there is nothing here to live upon.... It is the punishment come upon me." "Punishment for what, father?" "I wasn't always good to your mother, Jack." "If to please me, William, you'll say no more." "The boy ought to know; it will be a lesson for him, and it weighs upon my heart." "I don't want my boy to hear anything bad about his father, and I forbid him to listen." The conversation paused, and soon after William said that his strength was going from him, and that he would like to go back to bed. Esther helped him off with his clothes, and together she and Jack lifted him into bed. He sat up looking at them with wistful, dying eyes. "It is hard to part from you," he said. "If Chasuble had won we would have all gone to Egypt. I could have lived out there." "You must speak of them things no more. We all must obey God's will." Esther dropped on her knees; she drew Jack down beside her, and William asked Jack to read something from the Bible. Jack read where he first opened the book, and when he had finished William said that he liked to listen. Jack's voice sounded to him like heaven. About eight o'clock William bade his son good-night. "Good-night, my boy; perhaps we shan't see each other again. This may be my last night." "I won't leave you, father." "No, my boy, go to your bed. I feel I'd like to be alone with mother." The voice sank almost to a whisper. "You'll remember what you promised me about racing.... Be good to your mother--she's the best mother a son ever had." "I'll work for mother, father, I'll work for her." "You're too young, my son, but when you're older I hope you'll work for her. She worked for you.... Good-bye, my boy."