He covered his face with his thin, wasted hands, and did not answer for some minutes; at length he looked up with a calm smile upon his lips, and said--
"Yes, I have forgiven all--even him!--"
Oh, how much was contained in the stress laid so strongly and sadly upon that little word Him! How I longed to hear the story of his wrongs from his own lips! but he was too weak and exhausted for me to urge such a request. Just then Dr. Morton came in, and after standing for some minutes at the bed-side, regarding his patient with fixed attention, he felt his pulse, spoke a few kind words, gave some trifling order to his mother and Mrs. C---, and left the room. Struck by the solemnity of his manner, I followed him into the outer apartment.
"Excuse the liberty I am taking Dr. Morton; but I feel deeply interested in your patient. Is he better or worse?"
"He is dying. I did not wish to disturb him in his last moments. I can be of no further use to him. Poor lad, it's a pity! he is really a fine young fellow."
I had judged from Michael's appearance that he had not long to live, but I felt inexpressibly shocked to find his end so near. On returning to the sick room, Michael eagerly asked what the doctor thought of him?
I did not answer--I could not.
"I see," he said, "that I must die. I will prepare myself for it. If I live until the morning, will you, Madam, come and read to me again?"
I promised him that I would--or during the night, if he wished it.
"I feel very sleepy," he said. "I have not slept for many nights, but for a few minutes at a time. Thank God, I am entirely free from pain: it is very good of Him to grant me this respite."