Helen was on the other side of the bed, and as her father’s voice faltered and stopped, she looked up.
“Shall father and I say it together, Martin?” she asked.
“Yes, together,” said he.
So sometimes one, sometimes the other, sometimes both repeated the beautiful words. But just before the last verse Martin raised his head a little, looking straight in front of him. Then his father began:
“And so through all the length of days
Thy goodness faileth never——“
He paused, for he saw that look in dying eyes, those eyes that were so dear to him, which means that the great event is there, that the great, white presence has entered. Helen had seen, too.
Then Martin raised himself a little further and spoke no longer in a whisper,—
“Good Shepherd, may I sing Thy praise,
Within Thy courts for ever.”
Then he sank down again, withdrew his hand from his father’s, and put it on the pillow. Then he laid his face on it, as was his custom, and fell asleep.