speak and forgive your repentant husband !" and kneeling by the bedside, he chafed her white, thin hand, watering it with his hot tears as he sobbed her name.
Their efforts, at length, partially restored her, and the first thing she saw upon reviving was her husband weeping by her side, and calling her " Emily !" It was the first time he had done so for years. It stirred old memories in her heart, and called back the shadowy visions of years long past. She was back in their youthful days, before ruin had blasted her once noble husband, and when all was joyous and bright as her own happy bosom. Woe, shame, poverty, desertion, even his brutal language was forgotten, and she only thought of him as the lover of her youth. Oh ! that moment of delight ! She faintly threw her arms around his neck, and sobbed there for very joy.
"Can you forgive me, Emily ? -I have been a brute, a villain- oh! can you forgive me ? I have sinned as never man sinned before, and against such an angel as you. Oh! God annihilate me for my guilt." " Charles !" said the dying woman in a tone so sweet and low that it floated through that chamber like the whisper of a disembodied spirit—“ I forgive you, and may God forgive you too ;—but oh ! do not embitter this last moment by such an impious wish." The man only sobbed in reply, but his frame shook with the tempest of agony within him. " Charles," at last continued the dying woman——“ I have long wished for this moment, that I might say something to you about our little Henry." "God forgive me for my wrongs to him too !" murmured the repentant man. "I have much to say, and I have but little time to say it in,--I feel that I shall never see another sun." A violent fit of coughing interrupted her. 66" Oh ! no,—you must not, will not die," sobbed her husband, as he supported her sinking_frame--“ you'll live to save your repentant husband. Oh ! you will!" The tears gushed into her eyes, but she only shook her head. She laid her wan hand on his and continued feebly. "Night and day, for many a long year, have I prayed for this hour, and never, even in the darkest moment, have I doubted it would come ; for I have felt that within me which whispered that as all had deserted you and I had not, so in the end you would at last come back to your early feelings. Oh ! would it had come soonersome happiness then might have been mine again in this world,--but God's will be done ! --I am weak--I feel I am failing fast- Henry, give me your hand." The little boy silently placed it in hers, she kissed it, and then laying it within her husband's continued, "Here is our child--our only born--when I am gone he will have none to take care of him but you, and as God is above, as you love your own blood, and as you
value a promise to a dying wife, keep, love, cherish him. Oh ! remember that he is young and tender- it is the only thing for which I would care to live"--she paused, and struggled to subdue her feelings, " will you promise me, Charles ?" "I will, as there is a Maker over me, I will," sobbed the man; and the frail bed against which he leaned shook with his emotion. "And you, Henry, you will obey your father, and be a good boy ;--as you love your mother-you will ?" "Oh ! yes !" sobbed the little fellow, flinging himself wildly.on his mother's neck, " but mother, dear mother, what shall I do without you ?--oh ! don't die !" "This is too hard," murmured the dying woman, drawing her child feebly to her, " Father give me strength to endure it !" For a few minutes all was still,--and nothing broke the silence but the sobs of the father and the boy, and the low, death-like tick of the rain dripping through upon the floor. The child was the first to move. He seemed instinctively to feel that giving way to his grief pained his mother, and gently disengaging himself from her, he hushed his sobs, and leaning on the bed, gazed anxiously into her face. • Her eyes were closed, but her lips moved as if in prayer. 66 Henry, where are you ?" faintly asked the dying mother. The boy answered in his low, mournful voice. "Henry,-- Henry," she said in a louder tone, and then after a second added, " poor babe, he doesn't hear me." The little fellow looked up amazed. He knew not yet how the senses gradually fail the dying ; he was perplexed ; the tears coursed down his cheeks ; and his throat choaked so that he could not speak. But he placed his hand in his mother's and pressed it. "Come nearer, my son- nearer- the candle wants | snuffing- there, lay your face down by mine-- Henry, love, I can't see-has the wind- blown- out- the light?" The bewildered boy gazed wildly into his mother's face, but knew not what to say. He only pressed her hand again. "Oh! God," murmured the dying woman, her voice growing fainter and fainter-" this is death ! -Charles ,, -Henry—Jesus- reThe child felt a quick, electric shiver in the hand he clasped, and looking up, saw that his mother had fallen back dead upon the pillow. He knew it all at once. He gave one shriek and fell senseless across her body. That shriek aroused the drunkard . Starting up from his knees, he gazed wildly on the corpse. He could not endure the look of that still sainted face. He covered his face with his hands and burst into an agony of tears. Long years have passed since then, and that man is once more a useful member of society. But oh ! the fearful price at which his reformation was purchased.
