Thus in sound and happy slumber sleeps the Man--buoyed up with fond, delusive hopes. His breathing is as calm as that of a little child, and his aged heart beats evenly and quietly as he rests. He knows not that within a few seconds his son will have passed away for ever into the Infinite. Yet even as the Man lies there the shadowy mists of sleep are presenting to his vision a dream of happiness which shall never be. He dreams that he is with his son, and that together they are gliding in a fair white boat down a broad and peaceful river. It seems to him that it is a beautiful day in summer, and that he is gazing upon pure blue sky and water clear as crystal. He can hear the rustling of the reeds as they part before the boat, and in his heart he is joyous and hopeful. For all his senses are deceiving the Man. Yet suddenly he grows uneasy. Some strange fancy has pierced the mists of sleep and seared his soul. "Why have thy golden locks been shorn, my boy? Why have they done that?" "My head was hurting me, Papa. That is why they have shorn my locks." And once again, in his fond delusion, the Man feels happy as he gazes at the blue sky and listens to the rustling of the reeds as they part before the boat. No; he knows not that at this moment his son is dying. He knows not that his beloved child is calling to him with a last voiceless cry of the soul as, in the throes of delirium, the boy's childish instinct turns once more to its belief in the superior strength of his elders. "Papa, Papa! I am dying! Save me, Papa!" No; the Man sleeps on, in sound and happy slumber, while secret, fleeting dreams continue to present to his vision a dream of happiness which shall never be. Awake, Man, awake! Thy son is--_dead!_ [_The man lifts his head with a frightened gesturey and rises to his feet._] ~The Man.~~ I feel a sort of fear upon me. I thought I heard some one call. [_Almost at the same moment the sound of female voices in lamentation is heard behind the scenes, and the Man's Wife enters, looking as white as a sheet._] ~The Man.~~ Our--our son? Is--is he dead? ~His Wife.~~ Yes--he is _dead!_ ~The Man.~~ Did he call-to me just now? ~His Wife.~~ No; he never returned to consciousness; he never recognized any one. Yes, he is dead--our son, our darling son! [_She falls to the ground before the Man, sobbing violently, and clasping him round the knees. The Man lays his hand protectingly upon her head as he turns towards the Being in Grey and exclaims in a choking voice:_] Villain! Thou hast wounded a woman, and thou hast killed a child! [_His Wife still continues sobbing, while the Man silently strokes her head with a trembling hand._] ~The Man.~~ Do not weep, my darling; do not weep. Life only laughs at our tears, even as it has laughed at our prayers. [_Then, turning once more towards the Being in Grey, he exclaims:_] And for _thee_--Fate, Life, God, or Devil, whatsoever be thy name--I hereby curse thee!