His last mission was given in the beautiful little church of St. Patrick, Coatbridge (eight miles from Glasgow). Crowds came to hear the saintly old father plead for the conversion of England and the sanctification of Ireland. The first two days he heard confessions from six A.M. to eleven P.M., excepting the time needed for devotions and meals. On the third day he remained in the confessional until after midnight. When he came into the house, his host said: "I am afraid, Father Ignatius, you are overexerting yourself, and that you must feel tired and fatigued:' "No, no," he answered with a smile, "I am not fatigued. There is no use in saying I am tired, for, you know, I must be at the same work to-night in Leith." He was in the confessional again at six o'clock in the morning, said mass at seven; breakfasted at half-past eight, and left Coatbridge about nine o'clock. {188} Father O'Keefe remarked to him that he looked much better and younger in secular dress than in his habit. This made him laugh heartily. "When Father Thomas Doyle," he replied, "saw me in secular dress, he said, 'Father Ignatius, you look like a broken-down old gentleman.'" And the frankness of the observation seemed to amuse him immensely. The rest is easily told. He reached Carstairs Junction at half-past ten, and, leaving his luggage with the station-master, walked toward Carstairs House, the residence of his friend and godson, Mr. Monteith. Half a mile from the entrance to the estate, the long avenue is crossed at right angles by a second, which leads to the grand entrance of the house. Father Ignatius had just passed the "rectangle," when he turned off into a by-path. Then seeing he had lost his way, he asked a child which was the right road. He never spoke to mortal again. On a little corner in the avenue, just within sight of the house, and about a hundred paces from the door, he fell suddenly and yielded up his spirit into the hands of his Creator. May we all die doing God's work, and as well prepared as Father Ignatius of St. Paul! "It was God's will that angels instead of men should surround his lonely bed of death." It was simply by an after-thought that he had gone to Carstairs House to pass the time between the arrival and departure of two trains, and thus died at the threshold of an old friend's door, instead of in the station.