Madelaine went forward and gently smoothed his brow. "We can do no more for him now," she said. "His poor body must not be left here," remarked Ben. "I shall take it to some safer resting-place than this. If I carried him, do you think that you would be able to manage the boy?" "Easily," replied Madelaine, as she gathered up the lad in her strong motherly arms. Ben wrapped the still form of his father in a blanket and followed her out of the room. Some fishermen had by this time arrived at the cottage and were standing beside the garden fence. Gladly they relieved Mrs. Power and her companion of their burdens and bore them away from the dangerous spot. They had not proceeded many yards, when a low rumble, growing louder as they listened, caused them to turn quickly round in the direction whence the sound came. All at once a noise like thunder smote upon their ears, and to their horror they saw a long chasm yawn between them and the cottage wall. It widened as they gazed, until with a crash, a great slice of the cliff suddenly disappeared from before their eyes. Where the old house had so lately stood, the edge of the cliff now cut straight across the horizon--there was nothing to break the level line where earth joined sky. "I’m glad father didn’t see it go," said Ben. "It would have fairly broken his heart. Queer fancies he used to take about some things!" "We need not mourn for him," replied Mrs. Power. "His faith has been rewarded, and he has now a more enduring dwelling-place above. He was quite right about his friends. The Tide has had its will in the end, but the Angel of Death came for him first. Old Timothy has been received into the eternal home, and has seen the glorious face of Him he called ’The Best Friend of all.’ Truly we could not wish him back." *CHAPTER XIII* *Near Death’s Door* Leaving Ben and his comrades to continue their sad procession to the village, Mrs. Power and one of the men made their way straight to Farncourt, carrying little Julius with them. The boy was evidently very ill, and quite unconscious of what was passing around him. It grieved Madelaine sorely when she had to give up her charge at the door of the large comfortless house, where no mother awaited the child to give him the gentle care he so much needed. "Of course he will have the best doctors and attendance in the kingdom, and everything that money can provide," she said to herself as she walked down the drive, "but something more is wanted than that. I can’t bear to think of that poor little fellow with no loving woman’s face bending over him to draw him back into life again."