One by one the men woke, and round the room appeared a circle of
pale faces and watchful eyes, full of awe and pity; for, though a
stranger, John was beloved by all. Each man there had wondered at
his patience, respected his piety, admired his fortitude, and now
lamented his hard death; for the influence of an upright nature had
made itself deeply felt, even in one little week. Presently, the
Jonathan who so loved this comely David came creeping from his bed
for a last look and word. The kind soul was full of trouble, as the
choke in his voice, the grasp of his hand betrayed; but there were
no tears, and the farewell of the friends was the more touching for
its brevity.
"Old boy, how are you?" faltered the one.
"Most through, thank heaven!" whispered the other.
"Can I say or do anything for you anywheres?"
"Take my things home, and tell them that I did my best."
"I will! I will!"
"Good-by, Ned."
"Good-by, John, good-by!"
They kissed each other, tenderly as women, and so parted; for poor
Ned could not stay to see his comrade die. For a little while, there
was no sound in the room but the drip of water from a stump or two,
and John's distressful gasps, as he slowly breathed his life away. I
thought him nearly gone, and had just laid down the fan, believing
its help to be no longer needed, when suddenly he rose up in his
bed, and cried out with a bitter cry that broke the silence, sharply
startling every one with its agonized appeal,--
"For God's sake, give me air!"
It was the only cry pain or death had wrung from him, the only boon
he had asked; and none of us could grant it, for all the airs that
blew were useless now.
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