children; he knew how ill he was, better than the doctors. of low fever, The children Angelo's disorder was a kind which was worse every second day. were not allowed to come into the room where he lay, in the country-house outside the city; but they all assembled every day upon the terrace below his window. He looked out upon them, and spoke to them for a few moments, as his strength permitted; but this was only for a short time: he grew worse, and was unable to leave his bed. Prayers were offered up for him in all the churches; every one prayed for him as for a father, and their prayers were heard, although not in the manner they had hoped. His poor children did not cease to gather below his window; although they no longer might hope to see him, they had no heart to do anything, but sit and watch his window. At length the day came which the doctors sorrowfully declared most likely would be his last. Angelo lay quite still. He had suffered but little pain throughout his illness; and now he seemed to be quite unconscious of outward things. His eyes were fixed; but there was a look of sweetness and wonder that transformed his countenance till it seemed to be one of his own angels. His lips moved; but his attendants could only hear occasionally the words he murmured to himself: "The angel; my angel, who guided me and guarded me all my journey through. I see him. I could never paint him. There are the green pastures beside still waters. The good Shepherd is there. In his love and in his pity he redeemed He bare me and carried me all the days of old. The angel of his me. saved me. presence I see the King in his beauty, in the land that is very far off; the wall of jasper; the city of pure gold, like clear glass. When may I come? How long?" In a little while he appeared to slumber. It was a bright summer evening. The heat during the day had been oppressive; but a cool breeze had sprung up during the last hour. All at once a muffled sound as of suppressed weeping was heard, and the shuffling of many little feet. The attendant, fearing it would disturb the patient, rose softly to see whence it came. All the children from both the houses were assembled. They crowded the terrace, and had filled the staircase to the chamber door. There they had been waiting long for tidings of their master. When the attendant appeared at the window, all restraint was broken down there arose one long, wailing cry of children weeping, which was taken up by those within the house; and it was all the more vehement for the constraint they had imposed upon themselves. Angelo started and awoke. At first he seemed bewildered, but he quickly recognised the voices of his children. "Oh tell them not to break my heart. I cannot bear their tears. Tell them to pray to God for me, for I am dying, and I am a sinful man. How shall I stand before the Judge on that great white throne? Tell them to pray for me to pray now." A great terror seemed suddenly to take hold of him; and he gasped for breath. The children H 98 Angelo; or, The Pine Forest in the Alps. knelt down where they stood, and, stifling their sobs, said, as with one voice, "Please, God, bless Angelo, and deliver him from the fear of death." Angelo heard them. The dark cloud was rolled away, and the great calm came back. The God in whom I have trusted will deliver me from the adversary." The voices of the children, mingled now with irrepressible sobbings of grief, again were heard : "Deliver him from the fear of death!" and with the words of that prayer, the spirit of Angelo departed. The whole city followed Angelo to the grave. There was not one who did not mourn for him. Amongst artists he was called "The painter of angels;" but amongst the people he was remembered as "The one who loved little children." His best picture, "The Good Shepherd," was long to be seen in the chapel to which he had given it; but it was removed, a long time ago, into another place. |