He did not put out the light, for fear of the ghost, but, worn out with the sorrows of the day, was soon asleep himself.
About four o'clock Waldo, lying between the seats of the horse-wagon, was awakened by a gentle touch on his head.
Sitting up, he espied Bonaparte looking through one of the windows with a lighted candle in his hand.
"I'm about to depart, my dear boy, before my enemies arise, and I could not leave without coming to bid you farewell," said Bonaparte.
Waldo looked at him.
"I shall always think of you with affection" said Bonaparte.

"And there's that old hat of yours, if you could let me have it for a keepsake--" "Take it," said Waldo.
"I thought you would say so, so I brought it with me," said Bonaparte, putting it on.

"The Lord bless you, my dear boy.

You haven't a few shillings--just a trifle you don't need--have you ?" "Take the two shillings that are in the broken vase." "May the blessing of my God rest upon you, my dear child," said Bonaparte; "may He guide and bless you.

Give me your hand." Waldo folded his arms closely, and lay down.
"Farewell, adieu!" said Bonaparte.