"’Tis only ourselves know about that. A thinking creature, unless he’s growing old and weak in the head, knows very well when his usefulness be coming to an end. Old I may be growing, but my mind is clear enough, and it tells me that my work’s pretty nearly done. Think if ’twas you, Margaret, and them you loved best was in heaven, and there come into your mind the certainty that there was nought to keep you an hour from them--what would you do?" "Wait the Lord’s time." "What happens must be in the Lord’s time, and can’t fall out in any other time. But if the thought comes into your heart to join the dead, ban’t it the Lord as sent the thoughts; and if you do join ’em, can it be done without the Lord’s wish and will?" "Of course nothing can happen without the Lord permits, because He’s all-powerful and wills nought but good." "That’s all I want for you to see. And it follows--don’t it?--that if the still small voice tells me I may go home, the way be clear?" "Go home!" "To the home that’s waiting where my woman be. I’m home-sick for it--terrible home-sick. And the thought have come very strong of late that there’s nothing left to bide for. And a simple thing--such a simple thing! ’Tis merely putting something between you and the air of heaven for a brief minute--a drop of water, or a rope round your throat. Or, if your nature goes against that way, you can let the immortal soul out through a hole--" His great eyes stared into vacancy, and she gazed with horrified interest at him. "To kill yourself! Oh, dear Mr. Shillabeer, what are you saying?" "You may call it killing," he said, "but I don’t. I call it opening the half-hatch of the door and going home. They say self-slaughterers be mad mostly--at least, so ’tis brought in most times by a crowner’s jury of busy men--men as don’t care a button about the job, but want to get back to their work. But I tell you ’tis no mark of weak intellects to do it. A cowardly deed it may be sometimes, but a coward isn’t daft as a rule. And now and then ’tis the bravest thing a man can do, and now and then the wisest." "Never--never!" "You wait till you’ve seen life move into the middle time, or lost what’s better than life. Keep your own opinions, but don’t grow narrow, and don’t tell me that the still small voice ever whispered a lie to a Christian man. Usefulness ended, ’tis our place to seek a new bit of ground again where we can be useful anew; and if this world have done with us, who’s to say the next won’t be very glad of a new workman?" "But not to go like that, surely?" "I tell you the Lord’s over all," he answered again solemnly. "The Lord chooses the fly for the fish, and hedge-sparrow for the hawk, and the mouse for the owl. The Lord comes to me by night, and He says, ’Shillabeer,’ and I say, ’I be listening, Lord.’" Margaret shivered, yet felt no fear of him.