“‘He is merciful! he is merciful!’ said Ayliffe.
“‘Wilt thou give me a token of thy forgiveness of a spirit most bitter and inhuman?’ said the Earl presently. ‘If thy poor son Adam cometh home while I live, wilt thou speak with him that he forgive me my cruel heart towards him?—that he accept amends at my hands?’
“‘For amends, my Lord,’ said Ayliffe, ‘doubtless he will have none but those which God may provide for him; and my son hath no claim upon thee for human amends. His forgiveness I know that thou wilt have, for aught in which, my Lord, thou may’st have wronged him by uncharitableness; or he is not son of mine, and God hath afflicted him in vain.’
“Here Mr Hylton interposed, observing the Earl grow very faint, and rose to assist him to the door.
“‘Good day, friend Adam, good day,’ said Lord Milverstoke feebly, but cordially grasping the hand which Ayliffe tendered to him. ‘I will come hither again to see thee; but if I may not, wilt thou come yonder to me? Say yes, good Adam! for my days are fewer, I feel, than thine!’
“‘When thou canst not come to me, my good Lord, I will come to thee!’ said Ayliffe, sadly, following the Earl to the door, and gazing after him till he had driven away.”
That time came soon. The Earl grows ill; his end approaches. Exquisitely beautiful is the description of that end. Remembering the old man’s plighted word, the sick nobleman sends his servant to the cottage, and demands fulfilment of the promise given. The old man hears and trembles; but with a solemn countenance he gets his hat and stick, puts his Bible under his aged arm, and answers, “Ay, I will go with thee to my Lord.”
“When the Earl saw him it was about evening, and the sun was setting, and its declining rays shone softly into the room.
“‘Adam, see—it is going down!’ said Lord Milverstoke in a low tone, looking sadly at Adam, and pointing to the sun.
“‘How is thy soul with God?’ said the old man, with great solemnity.