The men, when they had surmounted the steep river bank, tired with the weight, put down the corpse near where Armstrong stood.  He walked up to it, and gazed upon the face.  The men, solemnized by the mournful task, and respecting the feelings of Armstrong, whom they all knew, preserved silence.

There was no expression of pain upon the features.  They wore the calm, impassive look of marble.  The eyes and mouth were wide open—­efforts to close them had been in vain—­but, there was no speculation in the former, and the soul played no more around the latter.  The long brown hair, from which the water dripped, hung in disorder over the forehead and down the neck.  Armstrong knelt on the withered leaves, by the side of the corpse, and parted the hair with his fingers.

“The agony,” he said, as if addressing the drowned man, “is over.  The curtain is lifted.  The terrible secret is disclosed.  You have heard the summons we must all hear.  You have trod the path we must all tread.  You know your doom.  Poor fellow! how gladly would I give my life for yours.”

The bystanders were moved.  Thus to behold the rich and prosperous Mr. Armstrong, whose reserve was mistaken by some for haughtiness, kneeling on the ground and lamenting over the obscure fisherman, was something they had not expected.

“Sill was a good fellow and a ginerous,” said Tom Gladding, wiping away a tear, with the rough sleeve of his coat.

“He was a clever fellow, was Sill,” added another.

“I’ve known him more than once,” said Tom, “give half his fish away to a poor family.  Josiah tried to make everybody comfortable.”

“When I was sick, a year ago,” said one of the men, “and the neighbors thought I was going to die, Josiah set up many a night with me, when he had to work all the next day for his wife and children.  I had no notion, then, he’d have to go afore me.”

“It’s true what the primer says,” said another—­

  “Xerxes the great must die,
  And so must you and I.”

“It don’t need the primer or Xerxes either to tell us that,” said Tom.  “Now, it looks kind o’ hard to have a young man like Josiah go; but, seeing as how he must die, sometime or other, I guess it don’t much consarn him whether it’s to-day or to-morrow, when you think of etarnity.  Howsoever, it’s no use standing here sniveling; so, let’s get on.  Miss Sill will be glad the body’s found, though it will ’most kill her to see it.”

Thereupon, Tom and his friends took up the corpse, and pursued their way to the village.

Armstrong stood still, and looked after them till they were out of sight.  He then turned, descended the bank, and sat upon a rock on the edge of the water.

He reviewed the events of the day before the yesterday.  He had repeatedly endeavored to divert his mind from such thoughts; but, in spite of his wishes, they would force themselves back.  Finding all resistance vain, he had, finally, abandoned himself to their control.