Page:Ethel Churchill 3.pdf/263

Rh hue, till the very azure was died with scarlet. Then it grew dark; a darkness filled with shadows—shadows from other years. Every evil thought that had ever arisen within him, now assumed some palpable form. Pale faces looked upon him with sad reproaches; wasted hours, misused gifts, stood around like spectres. For the first time in his indulged and evil life, he thought of judgment and of an hereafter. He remembered his God, but only to fear him. He started! that awful terror mastered even the extremity of pain; the drops poured down his face; his eyes glared fearfully round, seeking shelter, and finding none. The effort was too much, he sank back with one last cry of despair, and in that despair he died! The birds sang gayly overhead; the morning sun dried up even the tears that night had left on the leaves. The clouds first reddened, and then wandered, white and pure, over the sky; voices rose from the wilderness of streets around, and another day came, busy and anxious, to awakening humanity. The