My father still stood silent and awkward by the door of the room.
“David,” said my poor mother, her voice breaking with sudden alarm, “have you been talking much with him? What has he told you, David? I’m not so very sick, am I?”
“Well, lass,” said my father, “’tis a great season for all sorts o’ sickness—an’ the doctor is sick abed hisself—an’ he—couldn’t—come.”
“Poor man!” sighed my mother. “But he’ll come ashore on the south’ard trip.”
“No, lass—no; I fear he’ll not.”
“Poor man!”
My mother turned her face from us. She trembled, once, and sighed, and then lay very quiet. I knew in my childish way that her hope had fled with ours—that, now, remote from our love and comfort-alone—all alone—she had been brought face to face with the last dread prospect. There was the noise of rain on the panes and wind without, and the heavy tread of Skipper Tommy’s feet, coming up the stair, but no other sound. But Skipper Tommy, entering now, moved a chair to my mother’s bedside, and laid a hand on hers, his old face illumined by his unfailing faith in the glory and wisdom of his God.
“Hush!” he said. “Don’t you go gettin’ scared lass. Don’t you go gettin’ scared at—the thing that’s comin’—t’ you. ’Tis nothin’ t’ fear,” he went on, gloriously confident. “’Tis not hard, I’m sure—the Lard’s too kind for that. He just lets us think it is, so He can give us a lovely surprise, when the time comes. Oh, no, ’tis not hard! ’Tis but like wakin’ up from a troubled dream. ’Tis like wakin’ t’ the sunlight of a new, clear day. Ah, ’tis a pity us all can’t wake with you t’ the beauty o’ the morning! But the dear Lard is kind. There comes an end t’ all the dreamin’. He takes our hand. ‘The day is broke,’ says He. ‘Dream no more, but rise, child o’ Mine, an’ come into the sunshine with Me.’ ’Tis only that that’s comin’ t’ you—only His gentle touch—an’ the waking. Hush! Don’t you go gettin’ scared. ’Tis a lovely thing—that’s comin’ t’ you!”
“I’m not afraid,” my mother whispered, turning. “I’m not afraid, Skipper Tommy. But I’m sad—oh I’m sad—to have to leave——”
She looked tenderly upon me.