He was wakened by his old master's voice: "Christie," said Treffy; "Christie, boy!"
"Yes, Master Treffy," said Christie, jumping up hastily.
"Where's the old organ, Christie?" asked Treffy.
"She's here, Master Treffy," said Christie, "all right and safe."
"Turn her, Christie," said Treffy, "play 'Home, sweet Home.'"
"It's the middle of the night, Master Treffy," said Christie; "folks will wonder what's the matter."
But Treffy made no answer, and Christie crept to his side with a light, and looked at his face. It was very altered and strange. Treffy's eyes were shut, and there was that in his face which Christie had never seen there before. He did not know what to do. He walked to the window and looked out. The sky was quite dark, but one bright star was shining through it and looking in at the attic window. "Let not your heart be troubled," it seemed to say to him. And Christie answered aloud, "Lord, dear Lord, help me."
As he turned from the window, Treffy spoke again, and Christie caught the words, "Play, Christie, boy, play."
He hesitated no longer. Taking the organ from its place, he turned the handle, and slowly and sadly the notes of "Home, sweet Home," were sounded forth in the dark attic. The old man opened his eyes as Christie played, and, when the tune was over, he called the boy to him; and, drawing him down very close to him, he whispered,—
"Christie, boy, the gates are opening now. I'm going in. Play again, Christie, boy."