“Is this the soul of my son?” he asked of the whiterobed watchers. “If so, how died he?”
Then the angel at his foot answered: “He died, red sword aloft, fighting a good fight.”
“Fighting for the Cross of Christ?”
“Nay; fighting for a woman.”
“Fighting for a woman’s love who should have fallen in the Holy War? Alas! poor son; alas! poor son! Alas! that we must part again forever!” and his voice, too, passed away.
Lo! a Glory advanced through the blackness, and the angels at head and foot stood up and saluted with their flaming spears.
“How died this child of God?” asked a voice, speaking out of the Glory, a low and awful voice.
“He died by the sword,” answered the angel.
“By the sword of the children of the enemy, fighting in the war of Heaven?”
Then the angels were silent.