“Aye, she’s deid. Gude save us a’, my sweet lassie is deid.” The old woman threw her apron over her head and burst into wailing. “Aye, the puir lassie, the puir lassie! Ma bonnie wee lamb! She’s awa’, she’s awa’.” The man stared stupidly upon the rocking, wailing figure at his feet. “Dead! Dead!” he said in a harsh voice. “It’s a lie. It’s a lie! She wouldn’t die that way. She wouldn’t die without a word to me.” “Aye, she left ye a word as she was bleedin’ ta deith. A pail full o’ bluid she pit up. Wae’s me! But she didna forget ye.” Old Jinny’s voice took a grudging note. “She left ye a word.” She went into the house, returning in a minute with a torn piece of paper. Gaspard took it with a shaking hand, dropped it with a cry. “What’s that on it?” he gasped pointing at a stain upon the white paper. “What’s that? You old—fool—don’t tell me it’s——” His voice became a shriek. “My God—my God! It’s blood! Her blood!” He pointed at the stained paper a finger that wavered and shook, his face white, his eyes fierce and glaring like those of a mad man. “Aye, it’s her bluid. The blessed lamb!” said Jinny picking up the paper. “She pit her dyin’ lips till it—the bluid——” “Stop! Stop! For Heaven’s sake, stop! Do you want to kill me?” cried the man, his voice shrill, strident, broken. “Oh, Daddy, Daddy! You’re here! Oh, I’m glad you’re here!” The child’s voice rang out in a cry of wild joy. In the doorway he paused, looking from one to the other, then flung himself at his father. Gaspard made as if to thrust him off, but on a second impulse he gathered the boy in his arms and sank down, moaning, on the steps. “She’s gone, she’s gone! Oh, God, let me go! Let me go too! She’s left us, boy! She’s left us!” “Yes, Daddy,” said the boy quietly, his hand reaching up to his father’s cheek. “And she said you would go and me too, Daddy. I want to go with you, Daddy.” His father only groaned. “And she made me promise to tell you about my very last lesson.” Still the father was silent, heedless of the boy’s talk. “My Bible lesson, you know, Daddy. She made me promise to tell you about it. Are you listening, Daddy?” “What! Oh, yes, yes, go on boy. What was it you were saying?” His father roused himself to listen. “She made me promise to tell you my lesson.” “Yes! Go on!” “About the seventy times seven, you remember.” “Seventy times seven?” The man was broad awake. “Yes, you know, seventy times seven in one day. That’s four hundred and ninety times in one day we must forgive. And she said, ‘Be sure, be very sure to tell Daddy that.’ She said you would be awful glad to hear that. Why, Daddy? And she said it was the lesson she loved best in all the Bible. I don’t think so, do you Daddy?”