The Witch did not go about her work the next day, nor the next, for
somehow she contracted a severe cold which completely prostrated her,
and then pneumonia clutched her throat.
One morning, when the first golden rays of the sun glanced over the
sleeping city, they rested in benediction on her death bed. A neighbor,
whom in time past she had befriended, was at her side.
She knew that the end was near.
Will this influence stop here? or will it go on and on through all the
ages to come?
Blessed are the dead which die in the Lord from henceforth: Yea,
saith the Spirit, that they may rest from their labours; and their
works do follow them. Revelation xiv, 13.