Then, suddenly, he fell back. The letter followed the newspaper to the
ground. Deadly weakness was creeping upon him, but as yet the brain was
clear. Only his will struggled no more; everything had given way, but
with the sense of utter catastrophe there mingled neither pain nor
bitterness. Some of the Latin verse scattered over the essay he had been
reading ran vaguely through his mind--then phrases from his last talk
with the Prime Minister--then remembrances of the night at Assisi--and
the face of the poet--
A piercing cry rang out close beside him--Diana's cry. His life made a
last rally, and his eyes opened. They closed again, and he heard
no more.
Sir James Chide stooped over Diana.
"Run for help!--brandy!--a doctor! I'll stay with him. Run!"
Diana ran. She met Mrs. Colwood hurrying, and sent her for brandy. She
herself sped on blindly toward the village.
A few yards beyond the Beechcote gate she was overtaken by a carriage.
There was an exclamation, the carriage pulled up sharp, and a man
leaped from it.
"Miss Mallory!--what is the matter?"
She looked up, saw Oliver Marsham, and, in the carriage behind him, Lady
Lucy, sitting stiff and pale, with astonished eyes.
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