"Not yet, Heman, surely not yet," said Amer sorrowfully.
"Yes, lad. If I am not mistaken the River is near, and the last conflict with the enemy," he added, slowly, and as they turned together the next corner of the road, there loomed before their eyes a dark valley and at the end of the valley a river.
Amer's path lay along the side of the river for a time, but Heman's ended at the brink.
The lad trembled as he walked by his side, but was astonished to notice a joy on the face of his companion not at all in keeping with his own feelings; but looking far away beyond the river, he caught sight of a wonderful shining light from the Radiant City, and noticed that his companion's eyes were fixed steadily upon it.
Then suddenly without warning, what seemed like a dark cloud, came between Heman and the City.
"Ah," he groaned, "it is the enemy; pray for me, for I feel to have no strength for the last conflict. Cry to the King and cry loud for help:" and then Amer saw, as if in a dream, the cloud form itself into an army of dark figures, as if the Devil and his angels were in league to do all in their power to wrest this good soldier from the King, and he remembered the Ambassador's words,
"Some are fighting up to the very end."
As the lad cried aloud to the King for his friend, he noticed that at the edge of the river there appeared a cross which flung its shadow over Heman, and to which again and again he turned and clung. And every time he clung to the cross or got within its shadow, the powers of darkness which were surrounding him drew back as if they had received a wound. At these times Amer became aware, that even nearer than the evil spirits, who were trying to do their utmost to tear the fainting soldier from the cross, there was a band of bright angels supporting him. At last, when he swooned, and would have been drowned in the deep waters, these bright spirits carried him tenderly in their arms to a spot in the river, where a radiant figure stood, with outstretched hands, and the hands had the marks of having once been pierced with nails: while across the river came the sound of music, such as Amer had never heard nor dreamed of, and the song of a multitude of voices welcoming the warrior home.
Then the lad fell on his knees and worshipped.
"Ah," said a voice by his side, "I am too late to see the passing of one of the bravest and best soldiers that I have known," and Amer turned to see to his comfort, the figure of the Ambassador, whom he had never thought to meet again.