“He’s goin’ to sit up with Eskew.  What do you want of him?”

“I should say you better ask that!” Mrs. Flitcroft began, shrilly.  “It’s enough, I guess, for one of this family to go runnin’ after him and shakin’ hands with him and Heaven knows what not!  Norbert Flitcroft!”

But Norbert jumped from the porch, ruthlessly crossed his grandmother’s geranium-bed, and, making off at as sharp a pace as his architecture permitted, within ten minutes opened Ariel’s gate.

Sam Warden came forward to meet him.

“Don’t ring, please, suh,” said Sam.  “Dey sot me out heah to tell inquirin’ frien’s dat po’ ole Mist’ Arp mighty low.”

“I want to see Mr. Louden,” returned Norbert.  “I want to see him immediately.”

“I don’ reckon he kin come out yit,” Sam said, in a low tone.  “But I kin go in an’ ast ’em.”

He stepped softly within, leaving Norbert waiting, and went to the door of the sick-room.  The door was open, the room brightly lighted, as Eskew had commanded when, a little earlier, he awoke.

Joe and Ariel were alone with him, leaning toward him with such white anxiety that the colored man needed no warning to make him remain silent in the hallway.  The veteran was speaking and his voice was very weak, seeming to come from a great distance.

“It’s mighty funny, but I feel like I used to when I was a little boy.  I reckon I’m kind of scared—­after all.  Airie Tabor,—­are you—­here?”

“Yes, Mr. Arp.”

“I thought—­so—­but I—­I don’t see very well—­ lately.  I—­wanted—­to—­know—­to know—­”

“Yes—­to know?” She knelt close beside him.

“It’s kind of—­foolish,” he whispered.  “I just —­wanted to know if you was still here.  It—­don’t seem so lonesome now that I know.”

She put her arm lightly about him and he smiled and was silent for a time.  Then he struggled to rise upon his elbow, and they lifted him a little.

“It’s hard to breathe,” gasped the old man.  “I’m pretty near—­the big road.  Joe Louden—­”

“Yes?”

“You’d have been—­willing—­willing to change places with me—­just now—­when Airie—­”

Joe laid his hand on his, and Eskew smiled again.  “I thought so!  And, Joe—­”

“Yes?”

“You always—­always had the—­the best of that joke between us.  Do you—­you suppose they charge admission—­up there?” His eyes were lifted.  “Do you suppose you’ve got to—­to show your good deeds to git in?” The answering whisper was almost as faint as the old man’s.

“No,” panted Eskew, “nobody knows.  But I hope—­I do hope—­they’ll have some free seats.  It’s a—­mighty poor show—­we’ll—­all have—­if they—­don’t!”

He sighed peacefully, his head grew heavier on Joe’s arm; and the young man set his hand gently upon the unseeing eyes.  Ariel did not rise from where she knelt, but looked up at him when, a little later, he lifted his hand.