Consumption has fastened itself upon poor Alfred Marsden. His days are numbered, and for earth he seems to have but one desire, to see again his childhood home, and die there. His faithful nurses, Annie and Little Wolf, have grown pale and thin, His sister's eyes are tear stained, and Little Wolf's also grief shaded, for together they have watched over and tended him, striving to drive away that unseen something, which makes his cheeks and lips so white, and takes fast hold upon his vitals, determined to wrench him away from those he loves. It will not even grant his last wish; for here, in mid ocean, he grapples with death. All day long those fair young faces have bent over him, and his friend, the Captain, has been there with them, and little Flora has hovered near with trembling lips, whispering softly, "I am so wery, wery, sorry." As the evening draws on, the sick man revives a little, and in a low, rapid tone, says something to his sister, which we do not hear, but with a few hurried words to Little Wolf, she moves away with the Captain and Flora, and Little Wolf is left alone with the dying. All that he is breathing into her ear we shall never know; but her cheek changes, and her lip quivers, and she bends over and kisses him tenderly. That hungry look in his eyes is gone. He is satisfied, and now, surrounded by those he loves, he dies with a smile upon his lips. His body will not rest in the place prepared for him in Greenwood, beside his parents, but will sink into the ocean's Greenwood, where the sea shall ever kiss his lips, where flowers bloom, and things of beauty are perpetual, and coral monuments are raised, out-rivalling those of the cemeteries of art. The fair moon shines out upon the waves and the winding sheet, and the burial is over. Three days more, and we shall be on shore again," says Little Wolf, half regretfully. The Captain is by her side, and he bends over and says something which we do not hear. Little Wolf shakes her head, and her ingenuous little face says no, as plainly as words could. A shade of disappointment manifests itself in the Captain's manner, and again he speaks. His companion still replies in the negative. "Then he was but a deer friend, and I may be the same," says the Captain, now loud enough to be heard. Now Little Wolf says distinctly, "yes, you may be the same, Captain Green. You rescued me in perils by sea, and he in perils by land. He told me with his latest breath how he had saved me from certain destruction when I was a little child, and--" "And how he loved you in after years, and how he longed to kiss you," said the Captain, seeing her hesitate. "Yes, Captain," said Little Wolf solemnly, he told me that, and more which you must not hear." "I know how he felt," says the Captain, folding his arms across his breast, "for I would be willing to die, if you would but kiss me."