'Do you forgive me?' asked the master, in astonishment.
'Ah,' he cried, 'I forgave thee long since, directly after I was ill. It was God who helped me; and wouldn't He rather forgive thee Himself? Oh, He loves thee! He taught me how to love thee; and could He do that if He didn't love thee His own self?'
'If I could only believe in being forgiven!' said the dying man.
'Oh, believe it, dear master! See, I am here; I have forgiven thee, and I do love thee. Little Nan can never come back, and yet I love thee, and forgive thee from my very heart. Will not Jesus much more forgive thee?'
'Pray for me, Stephen. Kneel down there, and pray aloud,' he said; and his eyelids closed feebly, and his restless head lay still, as if he had no more power to move it.
'I cannot,' answered Stephen; 'I'm only a poor lad, and I don't know how to do it up loud. Miss Anne will pray for thee.'
'If you have forgiven me, pray to God for me,' murmured the master, opening his eyes again with a look of deep entreaty. Over Stephen's pale face a smile was kindling, a smile of pure, intense love and faith, and the light in his pitying eyes met the master's dying gaze with a gleam of strengthening hope. He clasped the cold hand in both his own, and, kneeling down beside him, he prayed from his very soul, 'Lord, lay not this sin to his charge.'
He could say no more; and Miss Anne, who knelt by him, was silent, except that one sob burst from her lips. The master stirred no more, but lay still, with his numb and paralyzed hand in Stephen's clasp; but in a few minutes he uttered these words, in a tone of mingled entreaty and assertion, 'God be merciful to me a sinner!'
That was all. An hour or two afterwards it was known throughout Longville, and the news was on the way to Botfield, that the master of Botfield works was dead.