But I must relate one circumstance. Charley had retired to his little bed one evening earlier than usual; dark, lowering clouds had sped quickly over the sky, soon after he fell asleep. The tops of the high trees, skirting the fairy hollow, waved restlessly to and fro, and the angry growls of the thunder portended a violent storm. This night, there was to have been a festival in the beautiful hollow.
As the fairies flew along in the troubled air, and the Queen tried vainly to charm away the coming tempest, (for they were to carry Charley to the hollow that night,) a dark form, like gathered mist, went slowly past, her head bent, her arms folded.
And now, the lightnings came with a blinding glare, and the grand booming of Heaven's artillery awoke the solemn echoes. Fast the affrighted, shuddering fairies sped away, to hide under the fern leaves, and in the tiny caves at the foot of the rocks. But the misty, shadowy form still floated past, till it arrived at the open window of Charley's room.
THE ANGEL OF DEATH.
With noiseless motion it glided to the bed, bent over Charley, and whispered in a soft, sweet voice, "Beloved one, you are taken away in your early and lovely spring-time, because for you, to live, is to suffer. You will go where there are no storms, no sorrows, no sufferings; clasped in my arms, you will sleep, and be at rest forever."
And Charley smiled lovingly upon the Angel of Death, and his sleep grew deeper, and calmer, and sweeter. But the next day, he told his mother, and sisters, and brothers, of his mournful visitor, who had passed out of the window into the veiling clouds, and disappeared. The children burst into passionate weeping, and clasped him in their arms, and refused to let him go. The little mother knew he had been dreaming as before; but alas! she knew also only too well, that her darling's time had come. He suffered no pain; but he became weaker and weaker, and life was slowly but surely ebbing away. Consumption, that fell disease, had nearly finished her baleful work, and his lamp of life, flickering and dim, would soon pass away into the dark valley of the shadow of death.
God knew best, and in His infinite wisdom saw fit to take Charley out of this wearisome world, in which, if he had lived, he would suffer so much.
But the child was so much beloved. He was the sunlight of the house; and the pang of parting would be so cruel. They knew that they would meet again in the place Jesus had prepared for them in His Father's house—they knew that; but how could they help grieving now?
The good doctor came every day, and used his utmost skill, for he dearly loved the sweet, patient child; but it was of no avail, Charley's everlasting HOME was ready for him.