They all sat together one afternoon, about the close of May, when it was so warm that even the invalid had his chair moved out of doors for half an hour, and sat well wrapped up, to look at the flowers and the bee-hive. Cuthbert was silent, but a tear stole down his cheek; and turning suddenly to his father, he asked, “Did you see any thing?” “Nothing,” replied Noble, calmly. “It was a vision then; the mere creature of my own brain: but it was very beautiful. I thought I saw our dear departed Martin.” “That is not surprising, Cuthbert, we have talked together so much about him lately, and you think of him, I know, a great deal; I myself often in my fancy see the dear boy, and probably shall continue to do so as long as I live.” “Yes, that is the natural way to account for it; but yet I have never before pictured him to my mind as I saw him just now. He stood in shining raiment, by the bank of a river that seemed to flow between us, and beckoned me to come over; and behind him I saw a field of light, and far off, a city that was bright as alabaster. “Father, I have one last request to make--I do not think that I shall be much longer with you--read me the fourteenth chapter of St. John now: there my hope as a Christian was first clearly revealed to me; there I first cast anchor. O that I had never put out into the stormy sea of controversy! But it is all well--it is all over now. By the Divine alchemy good hath been drawn out of evil. “‘O Father of eternal life, and all Created glories under thee! Resume thy spirit from this world of thrall Into true liberty.’” “You are not, dear Cuthbert, impatient, I hope? We must all wait God’s time.” “I hope not; but it is better to depart.” He now listened with the most devout and prayerful attention as his father read to him; but before the chapter was finished, his head suddenly sunk upon his bosom, and his spirit departed. CHAP. XIX. The extreme peril of the case, The peace of England, and our person’s safety, Enforced us to this execution. _King Richard III._ Among the petitioners who stood waiting for an audience of the Lord Protector in the guard hall at Hampton Court, at that anxious period which followed the many arrests and trials of persons implicated in the conspiracy against his government, in the spring of 1655, was a lady in deep mourning, who stood alone in the window niche of that crowded apartment, and gazed upon the sunny garden before her with an air of settled melancholy.