"What was it like?" asked Mrs. Power.
"There was an old chap--as it might be me," answered Timothy, "and he was sitting in his big arm-chair--as it might be this 'un, and his Bible by his side, and his vittles on the table--just as I have here. He did look so wonderful tired, that poor man, and he was resting so comfortable in the big chair. His eyes they were shut, and his head it was leaning back, and he was sleeping so quiet and peaceable-like. But you'd never guess what was in that room along of him. No, you'd never guess."
"I would rather you told me," said Madelaine, "I'm not good at guessing."
"Well," continued Timothy, "along side of the table was a great big skeleton, dressed up in long flowing clothes, and its face looked right kind and gentle, it did, and its hands were stretched up, a-pulling the rope of a great bell that hung in the belfry over the old man's head. The sun was just sinking, you could see it out of the little window in the back of the picter. Says I to Miss Alice, 'The old chap'll be finely scared when he wakes up and sees the ghost.' 'No,' said she, 'there's writing here below, and it means something quite different. The name of that picture is "Death as Friend." It means that he's come to call the poor man away from all his want and all his weariness, and to tell him it's time to go up to the beautiful city and the light of God.' He's no enemy--he's a right good friend for an old man to have."
"So you're expecting him to come for you, Timothy," said Madelaine gently.
"Yes, I'm just waiting here for my friend," was the quiet answer. "He won't be long now, and the other friend down below there, I know he'll wait till I'm in the mansions of gold before he takes down the walls of my little house here. I'm waiting quite patient, and I'm not afraid. We're waiting, all of us, my friends and me, for we're all in the Hand of Him that's mightier than the mightiest, Him that's the best Friend of all. I be safe to trust in Him, for He knows the end from the beginning, and the times and the seasons are His alone."
The old man took off his fisherman's cap as he spoke, and closed his eyes as if in prayer. Mrs. Power did not like to disturb him, but silently left the hut.
The sunny landscape look blurred to her as she walked home along the edge of the cliff.
"I've had a lesson," she said to herself. "The Lord knoweth them that are His. Surely we may well commit ourselves to the care of our Best Friend."
CHAPTER V