‘Up the shininsr river,’ he said. ‘Aye, there I be agoing straight away. Kiss me, mother, and let little Madlin kiss me too--I be goin’ to Jesus- -up the shining river to Jesus, mates. It be all for the best--if it weren’t for you three I shouldn’t mind goin’.’ ‘Oh Mark, Mark,’ sobbed his wife, now fairly breaking down. ‘Mother, don’t ’ee take on--there be one at the helm as’ll look arter you, and Luke, and little Madlin too. He’s taking me away, the old barge be sunk, and I be going up the river, mates--up the shining ri------’ He was silent, and they thought he had passed away. Those were the last words which Uncle Mark spoke on earth, but he did not die at once. He lay on the sofa for several hours, breathing heavily, like one in a troubled sleep; the time dragged wearily on, the day brightened, then faded, and as the last rays of the setting sun fell across the floor, Uncle Mark heaved his last sigh. He passed away like one in sleep, lying in his wife’s arms, and not for several minutes after his last breath was taken did they know that he was dead. CHAPTER VI.--MADELINE IS ABOUT TO REALISE HER DREAM. For several days Uncle Mark lay solemnly silent in the front parlour. An inquest was held over him, and a careful inquiry made into the manner of his death, the jury bringing in a verdict to the effect that the people in the tug were in no respect to blame, and that the fatal result was entirely ‘accidental.’ At last, amid general grief, Uncle Mark was carried to his last home. The Brethren, with solemn faces, bore him to his grave; and when the simple service was over, one of them stood forward, and, with tears in his eyes, chanted forth the words of the simple hymn which he had sung to Brother Mark as he passed away. Up to this Mrs. Peartree, who stood with the men at the grave, had borne her burthen well, but no sooner did she hear the hymn which had ceased, as it were, with her husband’s dying breath, than she wailed and broke down. For a time all the bitterness of that sudden parting came back upon her; she clasped the hand of little Madeline, who stood by her, and burst into passionate tears. But she could not indulge her stormy grief for long; troubles and necessities clamoured like wolves around her, and turned her soul sick with a new fear. Now that her strong husband was gone, the whole weight of their little household was upon her; and no sooner was he in his grave than she had to speculate upon the future. The verdict of the jury destroyed all chance of receiving any compensation from the owners of the tug, and indeed Mrs. Peartree never dreamed of putting in any claim. Her husband’s earnings had been small, but she had managed to save a little, enough to keep her for a week or so--‘to turn herself round,’ as she expressed it--while she decided what was best to be done.