“My darling, it is all over.” And he told him as gently as he could all that lay before them. The boy hid his face on his shoulder, crying softly. “Can I do nothing for you, dear father?” He was silent for a moment. “Yes, you can die for me; you can die with me.” The loving arms were about his neck once more, and the warm, loving lips were kissing his own. “I will do any thing for you. O father, let us die together!” “Yes, my darling, it is best: we will.” Then very quietly and very tenderly he prepared the little fellow for his death; he heard his last confession and gave him his last absolution. Then they knelt together, hand in hand, before the crucifix. “Pray for me, my darling.” Then together their prayers silently ascended that the dear Lord would have pity on the priest who had fallen in the terrible battle of life. There they knelt till midnight, when Ronald took the lad in his arms and carried him to the little chapel. “I will say mass for the repose of our souls,” he said. Over his night-shirt the child arrayed himself in his little scarlet cassock and tiny lace cotta. He covered his naked feet with the scarlet sanctuary shoes; he lighted the tapers and reverently helped the priest to vest. Then before they left the vestry the priest took him in his arms and held him pressed closely to his breast; he stroked the soft hair and whispered cheeringly to him. The child was weeping quietly, his slender frame trembling with the sobs he could scarcely suppress. After a moment the tender embrace soothed him, and he raised his beautiful mouth to the priest’s. Their lips were pressed together, and their arms wrapped one another closely. “Oh, my darling, my own sweet darling!” the priest whispered tenderly. “We shall be together for ever soon; nothing shall separate us now,” the child said. “Yes, it is far better so; far better to be together in death than apart in life.” They knelt before the altar in the silent night, the glimmer of the tapers lighting up the features of the crucifix with strange distinctness. Never had the priest’s voice trembled with such wonderful earnestness, never had the acolyte responded with such devotion, as at this midnight Mass for the peace of their own departing souls. Just before the consecration the priest took a tiny phial from the pocket of his cassock, blessed it, and poured the contents into the chalice. When the time came for him to receive from the chalice, he raised it to his lips, but did not taste of it. He administered the sacred wafer to the child, and then he took the beautiful gold chalice, set with precious stones, in his hand; he turned towards him; but when he saw the light in the beautiful face he turned again to the crucifix with a low moan. For one instant his courage failed him; then he turned to the little fellow again, and held the chalice to his lips: “_The Blood of our Lord Jesus Christ, which was shed for thee, preserve thy body and soul unto everlasting life._”