72 TIM'S STORY. 



knowed we 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 'luminated 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 pinted 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 suddenly fell, and light 

 and all vanished 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 fol- 

 lowed 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 



