X . PRELIMINARY. 



but my father beckoned him to come back, saying, 

 "You need not go away; we shall both of us soon be 

 where no distinctions exist between master and man." 

 "I never wish, sir," said his attached servant, "to 

 be your equal any where." A tear came into my 

 father's eye as he whistled, the signal for Gregory to 

 draw him home. 



A few days after the above occurrence, we were 

 gathered around his bed, waiting that event which 

 we had long dreaded, but which was then close at 

 hand. It was the hour when Gregory was in the 

 same attendance as when my father was able to get 

 out. The curtains of the window were drawn aside ; 

 the sun was throwing his farewell rays upon the 

 chamber- wall ; my father looked round slowly and 

 earnestly on the faces surrounding his bed, but with 

 evident disappointment in his countenance. I guessed 

 the cause, and, stepping into the passage, brought 

 Gregory in. As soon as my father recognised him, a 

 smile of satisfaction played about his mouth; with 

 an effort he pointed to the window, still bright with 

 the setting sun, gently waved his hand in farewell to 

 us all, and immediately, his countenance assuming a 

 look expressive of reverent surprise, he departed for a 

 better world. 



Until very lately the early riser on a Sunday 

 morning, who might happen to be passing our little 

 rustic church, would, on looking in at the window, 

 have seen a tall and venerable man, mounted on a 

 stool, carefully wiping the dust off a marble slab 

 placed on the wall of the chancel to the memory of 



