For some minutes the young priest sat with his face buried in his hands. Then with a sigh he rose and crept across the garden till he stood beneath the open window of his darling.
[64] “Wilfred,” he called very softly.
The beautiful face, pale and wet with tears, appeared at the window.
“I want you, my darling; Will you come?” he whispered.
“Yes, father,” the boy softly answered.
The priest led him back to his room; then, taking him very gently in his arms, he tried to warm the cold little feet with his hands.
“My darling, it is all over.” And he told him as gently as he could all that lay before them.
The boy hid his face on his shoulder, crying softly.
“Can I do nothing for you, dear father?”
[65] He was silent for a moment. “Yes, you can die for me; you can die with me.”