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In his final moments, Henry Peglar dreamed of a happier world.
His mind replaced the desolation of King William Land with white fields and softly falling snowflakes, gleaming under a pale gray English sky. And he was finally warm, warmer than he had felt in countless long years. Fine blankets were draped around his shoulders and across his lap, and he nestled deeper into them as he sat back and watched the winter landscape fly by.
He was riding in a fine little sleigh bedecked with holly and ivy, pulled along by a pair of horses with jingle bells on their harnesses which made a merry clatter as they ran. And there was John at the reins, smiling back at him with that old affectionate pride. He wrapped an arm around Henry’s shoulder, and Henry willingly leaned into the touch. There was nothing to be afraid of here, no one to keep them apart. They could simply be .
“You still haven’t told me where we are going, John,” he said.
“Home,” John answered, flicking the reins. “Or something like it.”
“Will it be just the two of us?”
“Whenever we wish it to be so. Or we may pass the time with the other men. I suspect Mr. Collins will be there by now, and Lieutenant Irving, and Commander Fitzjames…”
Henry did not quite grasp the meaning of those words. His thoughts dwelled on the promise of a blazing hearth and a good book. He smiled and closed his eyes, content to dream until it came true.
But then the sleigh shuddered to a halt. Henry was nearly thrown from his seat, so abrupt was the stop. “John, what happened?” he asked, trying to steady himself.
John did not look at him. His face had grown solemn as he stared out over the path that lay ahead. They had been riding across an open field just moments before, but now they were suddenly standing at the mouth of a wide, dark forest. The rows of snow-capped trees seemed to stretch out for miles in all directions. There was hardly a path to be followed inside, so close together the trees had grown. The light could not penetrate such a barrier: all the world within was swallowed up by shadow.
But none of that frightened Henry as seeing John put aside the reins and step down from the sleigh. “Wait!” he cried, scrambling to climb down as well, but John lifted a hand to stop him.
“We’re nearly there, my lad,” he said. “But you must make the last leg of the journey by yourself, I’m afraid.”
“What? Why?”
“I cannot go just yet, Henry.”
“But you said you would be there!” He could feel hot tears welling in his eyes.
“And I will be there. I only have some matters to attend to back on King William Land before I join you.”
“I...I don’t want to go without you, John,” Henry murmured.
John looked away, fighting back tears himself. “I know. By God, I know.” Reaching up, he stroked Henry’s face with a trembling hand. “But you’ve been so brave these past years, my Henry. I need you to be brave just a bit longer. We can sleep once we reach the end of the path.”
He understood what it all meant now -- the promise of going home, of seeing lost friends, of freedom from the sufferings that racked his earthly body. He shuddered with dread. “What if I can’t find the way?”
John smiled. “If anyone can find the way, it’s you. Just think of where you want to go. Clear the path for those of us who still have to take it. Will you do that for me, Henry?”
He was still wavering, but he nodded as steadily as he could. “For you…”
John lifted himself back up, and for a moment, his lips brushed against Henry’s own. “Goodbye, Henry.”
Then he was gone, and there was nothing left for Henry to embrace but snowflakes in the air.
His first instinct was to fall to the ground and cry like a child, to despair at all the hopelessness and suffering he had failed to overcome. But John would not want that. John believed in him, always had. John did not deserve to have his faith betrayed.
So Henry wiped his eyes, sat back down, took up the reins and clicked his tongue. He had only the blink of an eye to prepare himself before the sleigh dove into the woods.
It was like being swallowed up by the mouth of a terrible beast. The light of day vanished behind the trees, and the wind screamed in his ears. Branches whipped past his face, leaving behind bloody cuts and gashes. The whole sleigh bucked and rattled as though it might fly apart at any moment.
Henry closed his eyes and squeezed the reins until his knuckles turned white. For John , he thought. For you and John both .
And then, all of a sudden, it was over. The sleigh slid to a halt, the wind dropped away, the branches no longer clawed at his flesh. The world had gone still. Henry kept his eyes closed, afraid of what he would see if he opened them.
When he finally did, he was still in the forest but no longer trapped in its darkness. He had come to a wide clearing, and before him sat a stout little cottage with smoke pouring from its chimney. It looked like just the sort of house John had wanted to find for them someday, after the expedition…
“Well, the expedition’s over now,” Henry said.
He dismounted from the sleigh and approached the cottage door. Through the wood, he could hear logs crackling and familiar voices raised in merry chatter. His hand was raised to knock when he paused. After a moment, he stepped away from the door and turned his face back towards the path down which he had come.
I want John to see me when he comes , he thought. I want him to know I’m safe now .
He did not have to wait long.