72 TIM'S STORY. 



were getting nigh it that wonderful light and I, but go 

 where it would, through water or fire, I felt bound to follow 

 it ; and to the brink of the water, leastways to the top of the 

 bank, we had got ; and the light stood still, and kept hovering 

 over a stump of alder. And there, as it rested, I could see for 

 the first time that it was no common corpse-light after all, nor 

 yet a wandering star ; but that it had a shape the very shape 

 of Sir Timothy hisself, dressed as he lays upon the moniment 

 and all Ruminated by the glitter of his coat o' mail. I could 

 see even to his hands, all cased in armour, and one of them 

 was stretched out, as he pintcd with his finger to the stump 

 of alder just at the water's edge. There was no mistake in 

 what I saw, though it was only for a minute. Then that 

 awful little cretur suddenlv fell, and lidit and all vanished 



/ ' o 



away. I felt myself falling too ; a loud noise sounded in my 

 ears ; lights, not one, but a hundred, danced before my eyes ; 

 and the next time I opened them, it was here only in my 

 bed looking at the faces of strange, kind friends, yours, 

 good sir, and others that God, of his goodness, has raised up 

 to comfort me." 



This was Tim's story. It was scarcely ended, when we 

 heard the sound of nailed shoes upon the stair ; a knock 

 followed at the chamber-door, and " tall Joe," returned from 

 his errand of seeking for the lost buttons, stood before us. 



There was an air of importance, with a knowing look of 

 satisfaction, in his honest face, and his mouth was tightly 



