II
A robin sang outside.
The trill fell sweetly on the silence.
The Parson bent above the dying man.
"Is there anything we can do for you, sir?"
The other raised wistful eyes, mischievous a little.
"I should like to pose my last under the stars."
The Parson's mouth twitched. He gathered the other in his arms, easily as a reaper gathers his sheaves.
They left the Sanctuary.
"Come along, Little Chap."
He held out his finger for the boy.
Kit grasped it.
So they passed out into the holy evening.
The light streamed from behind dark hills in floods.
As he felt the evening sweet about him, the Gentleman drew a delicious breath.
"The peace of God that passeth all understanding," he murmured, and saluted with languid hand.