“Yes, that is true; but there are cases where repose of mind does more than rest of body. Saul is so near to the gates of death that it matters little what he does or does not do. How the heart’s action keeps up at all in the present condition of the organ I do not know; but the end cannot be far off. If he is bent on this I shall not thwart him beyond a certain point. He may have forgotten by the morning; but if not, we must see what we can do to get him there. The distance is very short--only a few steps along this corridor, and through the swing door, and you are close to Mr. Marchmont’s room. I think the exertion of movement will try him less than the tossing and restlessness of unfulfilled expectation and desire. Let him have his night in peace, if possible. But if the desire should grow too strong upon him, let him have his way. It cannot do more than hasten the inevitable end by a brief span. I am not sure whether his strength will not desert him at the first attempt to move, and he may give it up of his own free will; but do not thwart him beyond a certain point. We doctors always try to give dying men their way. It is cruelty to thwart them save to gain some real advantage. In your grandson’s case there is nothing to be gained. He is past human skill; but if we can ease his passage by relieving his mind of any part of its burden, I should not stand in the way because it might hasten the end by a brief hour or more.” Saul, lying with closed eyes, his senses preternaturally acute and sharpened by illness, heard every word the doctor spoke, and a quick thrill of gratitude and thankfulness ran through him. He lay quite still when his grandfather returned. He gave no sign of having heard. He was exhausted to an extent which made any sort of speech or movement impossible at the moment, and told him even more clearly than the doctor’s words had done of his close approach to the dark valley. But his mind was at rest, concentrated upon the one purpose of making his peace with man, as he had already made it with God. He felt a perfect confidence that this thing also would be permitted him, and he lay calm and tranquil, resting and thinking. He saw his grandfather moving softly about the room, saw him put out beside the fire a suit of his own (Saul’s) clothes, evidently ready against a possible emergency. He saw a servant come in with food for them both, and watched through half-closed eyes while Abner ate his supper. Then he felt himself made comfortable in bed and fed with something strong and warm, which gave him an access of strength. He fell into a light sleep after that, and when he opened his eyes again, Abner was sleeping soundly in his chair--sleeping that deep sleep of utter exhaustion which always follows at last on a prolonged vigil.