I think the voices of my friends are calling me." I fancied that the poor fellow was wandering in his mind again, but still his eyes did not seem to have that vacant gaze I had previously noticed in them.

He was looking steadily at me, and seemed to divine my thoughts, for he smiled sadly and said, "No, I know what I am saying.

I can hear them singing, and they are calling me away.
They have come for me at last!" His thin face brightened up with a slow, sad smile, which soon faded away, and then, giving my hand a slight pressure, he whispered almost in my ear, as I bent over him, "Good-bye, comrade, I'm off.

You will come too, some day." A slight shiver, and Gibson passed peacefully away..