The Morris County chronicle. [volume] (Morristown, N.J.) 1877-1915, 1904-01-01
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the wistful longing in the, wide open,
startled eyes were too much for
Moore He backed behind tpne and |
could hear him weeping like baby.
Bruce heard him too.
rs that the Rilot?r he asked. In
| stantly Moore pulled himself up. wiped
his eyes and came round to the other
side of the bed and looked down, smil-
| ing.
"Do you say am dying?r The
I voice was strained i'll its earnestness.
felt thrill of admiration go through
me as the Pilot answered in a sweet.
clear voice: They say so, Bruce. But
you are not afraidT
Bruce kept his eyes ON his face and
answered with grave hesitation:
''No-not --afraid-b Id like to live
a little longer I've made such a mess
of it Id like to try again" Then he
paused and his lips quivered a little.
"There's my mother, you know" he
added alphabetically. land jim. Jim
was his younger brother and sworn
chum.
eyes, l know, Bruce, but it won't be
very long for them, too, and it's a good
place"
eyes, l believe it all-always did
talked rot-you'll forgive me that?"
Don't don't" said Moore quickly,
with sharp pain in his voice. and
Bruce smiled little and closed his
eyes, saying, Pm tired" But he i'm
mediately opened them again and
looked up.
"What is itY'' asked Moore, smiling
down into his eyes
"The Duke the poor lips whispered.
"He is coming" said Moore conf
IDENTIFY, though how he knew | could
not tell. But even as he spoke looking
out of the window, l saw lingo come
swinging round the bluff. Bruce
heard the beat of his hoofs, smiled,
opened his eyes and waited. The leap
of joy in his eyes as the Duke came in,
clean, cool and fresh as the morning,
went to my heart.
Neither man said a word, but Bruce
took hold Of the Dukes hand in both
Of his. He was fast growing weaker.
1 gave him brandy and he recovered a
little strength.
II am dying, Duke he said quietly.
Promise you won't blame yourself
II can't, old man." said the Duke,
with a shudder "Would to heaven
could"
"You were too strong for me and you
didn't think, did your" And the weak
voice had a caress in it.
mo, no! God knows" said the Duke
hurriedly.
There was a long silence, and again
Bruce opened his eyes and whispered:
1.-THE Pilot"
Moore came to him.
Read The Prodigal,' he said faint
ly, and in Moore's clear, sweet voice
the music of that matchless story fell
upon our ears
Again Bruces eyes summoned me. !
bent over him.
my letter." he said family; in my
coat
brought to him the last letter from
his mother. He held the envelope be-
fore his eyes, then handed it to me-
whispering:
Read"
1 opened the letter and looked at the
words "My darling Davie.' My tongue
stuck and not sound could l make.
Moore put out his hand and took 1t
from me. The Duke rose to go out,
calling me with his eyes, but Bruce
motioned him to stay, and he sat down
and bowed his head while Moore read
the letter.
His tones were clear and steady till
he came to the last words, when his
voice broke and ended in sob:
"And, oh, Davie, laddie, If ever your
heart turns home again remember the
door is aye open, and it's joy you'll
bring with you to us ALL"
Bruce lay quite still and from his
closed eyes big tears ran down his
cheeks. 1t was his last farewell to
her whose love had been to him the
anchor to all things pure here and to
heaven beyond.
He took the letter from Moore's
hand, put it with difficulty to his lips,
and then, touching the open Bible, he
said between his breaths:
"It's-very like-there's really-no
fear, is there?
"No, nor said Moore, with cheerful,
confident voice, though his tears were
flowing. mo fear of your welcome"
His eyes met mine. bent over him.
"Tell her and his voice faded away.
"What shall tell herr" asked, try
ing to recall him. But the message
was never given. He moved one hand
slowly toward the Duke till it touched
his head The Duke lifted his face and
looked down at him, and then he did
beautiful thing for which l forgave
him much. He stopped over and kissed
the lips grown so white, and then the
brow. The light came back into the
eyes of the dying man, he smiled once
more and smilingly faced toward the
great beyond. And the morning air,
fresh from the sun tipped mountains
and sweet with the scent of the June
roses, came blowing soft and cool
through the open window upon the
dead smiling face. And it seemed fit
ting SO. It came from the land of the
morning.
Again the Duke did a beautiful
thing; for, reaching across his dead