“Is that you, Saul—in the flesh?” asked Eustace faintly. “I have asked for you, but never thought to see you again.”
“I have come to ask forgiveness of you,” cried Saul in a choked voice, sinking to his knees beside the bed, partly through physical weakness, partly through the abasement of his self-humiliation. “I am dying, sir; I am glad to die, for I know my sins are forgiven by a merciful Saviour. But oh! I feel I cannot go without your forgiveness too! I have done you so terrible an injury. Ah! let me hear you say you can forgive me even that before I go!”
The voice was choked and strained. Saul’s head sank heavily upon the bed. Eustace heard the gasping breath, and a hoarse rattle in the throat, which told its own tale. With a great effort he just lifted his hand and laid it on the bowed head.
“My poor fellow,” he said, “you have as much to forgive as I. May God forgive you all your sins, as I forgive all you have done amiss towards me, and as I pray I may be myself forgiven for such part and lot as I have had in much of sin that has stained your past life.”
With one last effort Saul raised his head, and saw standing beside him a shining figure which he took to be one of the angels from heaven. A wonderful, radiant smile lit up his haggard face, his eyes seemed to look through and beyond those about him, and with the faint but rapturous cry—
“My Lord and my God!” he fell prone upon the bed.
Bride, aroused by the cry of the servant, had come in hastily, clad in her white flowing wrapper, with her hair about her shoulders, and laid a soft hand upon his head as she said in a very low voice—
“Lord, into Thine Almighty Hands we commend the spirit of this our brother!” and even as she spoke the words, both she and Eustace knew that the soul of Saul Tresithny had returned to the God who gave it.
