“I mean a happy, holy place, where no sorrow or pain can ever come. You were not afraid to go with the swallows over the sea to a land of sunshine and flowers. You were not afraid of a long strange journey with them, you knew not whither. Would you be afraid to trust to me? Would you be afraid to let me carry you across a river, and into a new land far more bright and beautiful than the one where the swallows go?”
Winifred lay still and quiet in the angel’s arms. She did not quite know what he meant. She felt languid and dreamy; but she was not afraid. She could not feel afraid looking up into his face and seeing his kind eyes bent upon her.
“I am going away soon,” she said.
“You are, my child, you are.”
“Did you know?”
“Yes, I knew.”
“Will you come and take me when I go?”
“Yes, if you would not be afraid to come with me.”
“No, I should not be afraid, I think. I will be ready when you come.”
And then it grew dark; the angel and the swallow both faded away and Winifred knew no more.