“He didn't wish for anybody. And then you told us that nothing could he done, and that he might live a month.”
“Still, a dying man, you know—— But how strangely composed he looks! And then the cross on his breast as well!”
“He was very devout and penitent. He made his last devotion yesterday with an intensity of joy such as I have rarely witnessed.”
“His eyes closed, too! You are sure there was nobody with him?”
“Nobody whatever.”
There was a moment's silence and then the doctor said, “Well, he has slipped his anchor at last, poor soul!”
“Yes, he has launched on the ocean of the love of God. May we all be as ready when our call comes!”
They came back to the corridor, and John heard their footsteps going downstairs. Then for some minutes there were unusual noises below. Rapid steps were coming and going, the hall bell was ringing, and the front door was opening and shutting.
An hour later Brother Andrew came with the breakfast. He was obviously excited, and putting down the tray he began to busy himself in the room and to sing, as before, in, his pretence of a Gregorian chant:
“Brother Paul is dead—he died in the night—there was nobody with him—we are sorry he has left us, but glad he is at peace-God rest the soul of our poor Brother Paul!”