'Take the chaise down to the inn,' said the squire.
'That is advisable,' said Dr. Cruden. 'I never bring a servant here.'
'I haven't seen poor Shady for a long time,' said the squire. 'He's a good fellow, but has lived so long alone that strange faces would scare him; and as to horses, I would not trust one in such a miserable wilderness of starvation for the world. How are we to get in? In my time we went in and out at the front door like other folks; the last time I came, you took me through the little door in the tower.'
'I think it would be more prudent if we entered the kitchen way—Sir Valary is less likely to hear us;' for the doctor knew perfectly well that when the squire meant to be exceedingly quiet he carried a considerable amount of bustle, which seemed as necessary to him as his breath.
'All right; we might have a worse place than the kitchen at breakfast-time, and I should think we must all of us be pretty nearly ready for a second. What a miserable place it is!' he continued, as they entered the courtyard; 'doesn't it look as if it had had the nightmare for the last fifty years? Well, stone walls are not worth crying about; but I can't say this is a very promising introduction to the home of your ancestors, Eu.'
Mrs. Gillies, who had seen their advance, met them, making her lowest curtsey to the squire, for whom, in common with all, she entertained a hearty regard.
'What! you haven't forgotten me then!' he said good-humouredly.
'Forgotten you, sir!' was the reply. A few questions put them in possession of all they wanted to know concerning Sir Valary, and of more than they expected in respect of Bloodworth's opportune visit.
'Capital! we can settle the whole affair at once; I like finishing up. Now, how shall we proceed?'
'My advice is that I go in to Sir Valary directly he awakes, and prepare him for an interview with you. By degrees we must unfold the cause of our visit as he is able to bear it, and'—
'And then Eu is to come in. I see.' Shady, who had been listening at Sir Valary's door for sounds within and sounds without, heard the squire's voice, and, gently descending, made his appearance among them. Bloodshot eyes from a sleepless night had not increased the vivacity of his countenance.
'Shady,' said the squire, shaking him kindly by the hand, 'why, what have they been doing to you? I hope your master does not look as bad as you do.'
'He is tranquilly sleeping,' said Shady, moved to tears by the squire's kindness. 'I have but now left his door, and there is not the sound of a breath within; but Miss De la Mark requested that when Dr. Cruden arrived he might be taken to the chamber.'
'Good,' said the squire; 'I am glad we are going to proceed to action. Go, doctor; tell him to cheer up, and he'll soon come right again.'
The doctor was halfway up-stairs before the squire's parting charge was over. Mr. Brimble and his nephew were engaged in such conversation as their circumstances naturally suggested, questioning Shady on points on which he could perchance throw light. The doctor returned, looking exceedingly pale.
'What! back already!' said the squire.
'My dear friend,' he replied, unable to restrain his tears, 'it is all over; such a scene may I never witness again!'
Exclamations of shocked surprise burst from Sir Eustace and his uncle, while Shady stood transfixed and seemed ready to faint.
'Come,' said the doctor; and he returned, leading the way to the chamber of death.
Leaning in his chair, his attitude unchanged, his eyes still closed, rested all that remained of Sir Valary De la Mark, while Marjory, with the hand still clasped in hers, slept that heavy sleep which nature sometimes claims to repair extreme exhaustion.
'This is too much!' said the squire; 'how shall we get her away?'
'Leave me, leave me,' replied the doctor. 'I will do it.'
Willingly Mr. Brimble relinquished to him the task, and the doctor, gently releasing the cold hand from Marjory's grasp, raised her from her father's side.
'My dear child,' he said tenderly, 'you must not remain here now. Your uncle is come, and we need to be alone with—in this room; and you shall lie down, my dear—Mrs. Gillies—rest on me—this way;' and he attempted to lead her from the room, but Marjory was now awake, and resisted the movement at first. 'Need I leave him?' she whispered. 'I have slept, I am quite strong now, and he must be better, for he has slept so long.'
Importunity at last prevailed. She consented to go for a while. 'But let me see him first,' she said; just one look. He was so calm, so peaceful, when he first sank into sleep. How could I sleep when I ought to have been watching him?'
Finding it vain to resist, the doctor yielded, and she advanced.
Not a cry—not a word—but one long settled look of horror and despair. She stood motionless before the body.
* * * * *
'Leave me to deal with him,' said Eustace. 'But you,' turning to the doctor, 'had better be with me. We will spare you, my dear uncle; there is no necessity to arouse your feelings by bringing you in contact with him.'
'Good!' said the squire, who had been leaning silently on the window-frame, looking out on the neglected garden, and living over again the scenes of his youth. There had never existed any brotherly affection between him and Sir Valary; entire contrariety of character, and the treatment of Eustace, which the squire had always attributed to him, had early separated them, and the influence of Bloodworth had succeeded in keeping them apart, even to the end. It was not grief for the dead, therefore, that gave the saddened expression to his fine manly countenance. There were, no doubt, regrets, but they were for Eustace, whom h............