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The Shadow. 93
mother had for a long time watched at his bedside,
but now that she thought he was a little better,
she had sought an hour’s rest herself.
When alone he slowly raised his eyes, and they
lit upon the blind, on which was a picture of
a wild, foaming stream, gushing forth from amidst
rocks. On the banks stood a tree, and below it
an old man was sitting, with a long beard, leaning
his head on his hands. This picture had always
been David’s delight when he was well, and he
looked at the old man with loving eyes, for his
mother had told him it was the old man on the
blind who taught her all the pretty tales which she
afterwards related to him.
He lay for a while and looked at the blind ;
then he suddenly fancied that the old man nodded
at him. He became frightened, and his heart beat
violently. But then again it seemed to him that
the old man on the blind began to talk, and his
voice sounded so mellow and pleasant that all fear
vanished from the lad’s heart.
“Still one more story I will tell you,” said the
old man, and rose from his seat; “it is the story
of my own life, and it is my last one upon this
earth—if you will consent to do what I ask you.”
All was again silent, and David saw how the
old man went down to the stream, but as he dipped
his foot into the water he became suddenly and
wonderfully transformed. His ragged dress was
gone, and in its stead he appeared in a garment
of glimmering fish scales, with a mantle of sea-
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