The dying man's eyes were proof that she spoke truly.
The short ceremony was soon over, and after some prayers for the sick man we took our leave. For the few days that he lingered after that, the visit of the priest—twice every day and sometimes oftener—was the culminating point of satisfaction for poor Bildy.
I was there with Val when the end came. Bildy passed away quite peacefully while we joined in the prayers for the dying; a calm smile was on his face, and some vision of delight before his wide-open eyes, which it is not for mortals to attempt to fathom.
"Poor fellow!" exclaimed Val, as we took our way home; "life has held little of happiness for him. Indeed, one can hardly call it life in the full sense of the word; it was mere existence, as far as we can see."
"Let's hope that life has begun for him at last," I said reverently.
"I have little doubt of that," replied the priest.
VII
SMUGGLERS
"My enemy's dog,
Though he had bit me, should have stood that night
Against my fire."
("King Lear"—Act IV, Sc. 7.)
"Aebody kent Davie Forbes wes tarrible at the smugglin'," said Willy.