"Perhaps she's in heaven!" murmured John, and then his voice was silent, and his languid eyes closed.
A shiver of dread ran through Sandy; but John had only fallen asleep through weakness for a few minutes, and Mrs. Shafto, whom he had not noticed before, leaned forward, and held up her hand to warn him not to make any noise. He did not stir, and scarcely dared to breathe, but knelt still, watching John with intent, eager eyes, as if he could not bear to look away, and lose sight for one moment of that dear face, which was so soon to be hidden from him.
"Sandy!" said John, waking and speaking again suddenly, as if he had not been sleeping at all. "Do you see my mother?"
"Ay!" he answered, glancing towards her for a moment.
"You'll be a good son to her?" he said.
Sandy could not speak again, but he covered his face once more with his hard brown hands.
John Shafto turned to his mother with a tender smile.
"I'll promise for him," he said; "he'll be a good son to you, and some day you'll wear blue ribbons for him and be very happy again. Look at him, mother. Why! isn't it something like what Jesus said upon the cross to John? 'Behold thy mother!' And to His mother, 'Behold thy son!' It is something like that. 'And from that hour that disciple took her to his own home.' Sandy's sure to be a good son to you, mother."
"I'll take him in your place," said Mrs. Shafto; "but oh, Johnny, Johnny! if the Lord had only spared you to me!"
They were silent again for a minute or two; and John Shafto, with his feeble fingers, drew his mother's hand across his lips, and kissed it tenderly.