“No,” said Mary; “and you will not want it, either. When we go to that place, we have no trouble of carrying anything with us. We shall find whatever we want there.” “What shall I play at?” “I don’t know till we go and see; but I am sure it will be with something better than your top. But, Ned, are you angry with Dan? Do you wish that he should have the fever? And are you glad or sorry that he has no top?” By this time the crying had stopped; and Ned, no longer filling his ears with his own wailing, wondered and asked what that odd sound was,—he did not like it. “It will soon be over,” said Mary, very gently. “It is your brother just going to sleep. Now, lie and think what you would say to Dan, if you were going a long way off, and what you would like to be done with your top, when you do not want it yourself. You shall tell me what you wish when I come to you presently.” Whether Ned was capable of thinking she could not judge, but he lay quite silent for the remaining minutes of his little brother’s life;—a great comfort to Mary, who could not have replied, because the mere vibration of her own voice would now have been enough to stop entirely the breathings which came at longer and longer intervals. Her frame ached, and her arms seemed to have lost power,—so long was it since she had changed her posture. At such a moment it was that the great comet came up from behind the brow. The apparition was so wonderful, and so wholly unexpected, that Mary’s heart beat; but it was from no fear, but rather a kind of exhilaration. Slowly it ascended, proving that it was no meteor, as she had at the first moment conjectured. When the bright tail disclosed itself, she understood the spectacle, and rejoiced in it, she scarcely knew why. When at last the breathing on her shoulder ceased, she let down the little corpse upon her knee, and could just see, by the faint light from the rush candle in the outer room, that the eyes were half closed, and the face expressive of no pain. She closed the eyes, and, after a moment’s silence, said: “Now, Ned, I am coming to you, in a minute.” “Is he asleep?” “Yes. He is in the quiet long sleep I told you of.” Ned feebly tried to make room for his brother on the poor bed of shavings; and he wondered when Mary said that she was making a bed in the other corner which would do very well. She was only spreading mammy’s cloak on the ground, and laying her own shawl over the sleeper; but she said that would do very well. Mary was surprised to find Ned’s mind so clear as that he had really been thinking about Dan and the top. She truly supposed that it was the clearing before death. He said: “You told me daddy was dead. Am I going to be dead?” “Yes, I think so. Would not you like it?—to go to sleep, and then be quite well?” “But, shan’t I see Dan, then?” “Not for a long time, I dare say: and whenever you do, I don’t think you and he will quarrel again. I can give Dan any message, you know.”