As they stood, the first rays of the rising sun burst through the little latticed window and shone full on the old man's face. He felt the glow through his closed eyelids, and opened them with a startled glance. Springing up in his bed, he stretched out his arms to the light, apparently dazzled with the sudden brightness.
"It is the glory of God!" he cried--and to Madelaine his homely features seemed transfigured with a radiance that was divine. "It is the blessed Angel of Death, and he has come to bear me up to the city of gold."
Folding his hands as if in prayer, he closed his eyes and reverently bowed his head.
"I'm waiting, old friend," he said. "I'm waiting, and I'm wholly ready to go."
Suddenly the frail figure relaxed its tension and fell back upon the pillow.
"He's gone," whispered Ben.
Madelaine went forward and gently smoothed his brow. "We can do no more for him now," she said.
"His poor body must not be left here," remarked Ben. "I shall take it to some safer resting-place than this. If I carried him, do you think that you would be able to manage the boy?"
"Easily," replied Madelaine, as she gathered up the lad in her strong motherly arms. Ben wrapped the still form of his father in a blanket and followed her out of the room.
Some fishermen had by this time arrived at the cottage and were standing beside the garden fence. Gladly they relieved Mrs. Power and her companion of their burdens and bore them away from the dangerous spot.