|
Main
- books.jibble.org
My Books
- IRC Hacks
Misc. Articles
- Meaning of Jibble
- M4 Su Doku
- Computer Scrapbooking
- Setting up Java
- Bootable Java
- Cookies in Java
- Dynamic Graphs
- Social Shakespeare
External Links
- Paul Mutton
- Jibble Photo Gallery
- Jibble Forums
- Google Landmarks
- Jibble Shop
- Free Books
- Intershot Ltd
|
books.jibble.org
Previous Page
| Next Page
Page 53
James never knew how long he was in that room with Gordon listening to
those frenzied ravings, and striving with him to keep the man from
injuring himself. The daylight waned, James lighted a lamp. Then a
mighty creaking was heard outside, and Georgie K., himself bearing a
great supper tray, knocked at the door. "It's me, and I brought you
something," he shouted, and then they heard his retreating footsteps.
Much delicacy was there in Georgie K., and much affection for Doctor
Gordon.
James brought in the tray, and now and then he and Gordon took advantage
of a slight lull to take a bite, but neither had any desire for food. It
was only the instinctive sense that they must keep up their strength in
order that nobody else should hear what they were hearing, that forced
them to eat and drink. Well into the evening the ravings stopped
suddenly, the man fell back upon his pillow, and lay still. James
thought at first that all was over, but presently stertorous breathing
began.
"Now get Georgie K. up," Gordon said hoarsely. "There is no further need
for us to be alone, and there will be directions to be given."
James went out and found Georgie K. sitting up in his bar-room.
"Doctor Gordon wants you," he said.
"How is he?" asked Georgie K., following James.
"Dying."
Georgie K. made an indescribable sound in his throat as the two men
ascended the stair.
The man was a long time dying. It seemed to James as if that awful
struggle of the soul for release from the body would never cease. He
knew, or thought he knew, that there was no suffering to the dying man,
but, after all, the sounds as of suffering seemed almost to prove it.
Gordon whispered for a while to Georgie K., as if the dying man might be
disturbed by audible speech. Then Georgie K. tiptoed out in his creaking
boots, and James knew that some arrangements were to be perfected for
the last services to the dead. Gordon stood over the bed, with his own
face as ghastly as that of its occupant. James dared not speak to him.
It was midnight when the dreadful breathing ceased, and there was
silence. Georgie K. had returned. The three living men looked at one
another with ghastly understanding of what had happened, then they
hastily arranged some matters. The dead man was decently composed and
dressed, his throat swathed anew in linen handkerchiefs, and another
handkerchief laid over the discolored face, which had in death a strange
peace, as if relieved of an uneasy and wearing tenant. Before Georgie K.
went out, the village undertaker had been summoned, and had been waiting
for some time in the parlor with a young assistant. They mounted the
stairs bearing some appurtenances of their trade. Gordon addressed the
undertaker briefly, giving some directions, then he motioned to James,
and they passed out. Georgie K. remained in the room. He prevented the
undertaker from removing the linen swathe on the dead man's throat. "Doc
says it's catching," he said, and the undertaker drew back quickly.
When Gordon and James were in the buggy on the way home, Gordon all at
once gave a great sigh, like that of a swimmer who yields to the force
of the current, or the fighter who sinks before his opponent. "I'm about
done, too," he said. "Here, take the lines, Elliot."
James took the reins and looked anxiously at his companion's face, a
pale blue in the moonlight. "You are not ill?" he said.
"No, only done up. For God's sake let me rest, and don't talk till we
get home!" James drove on. Gordon's head sank upon his breast, and he
began to breathe regularly. He did not wake until James roused him when
they reached home.
* * * * *
The next morning before breakfast James was awakened by a loud voice in
the office, the high-pitched one of a woman. He recalled how exhausted
Doctor Gordon had been the night before, and rose and dressed quickly.
When he entered the office Gordon was sitting huddled up in his old
armchair before the fire, while bolt upright beside him sat Mrs. Slocum,
discoursing in loud and angry tones, which Gordon seemed scarcely to
heed. When James entered she turned upon him. "Now I'll see if I can git
anythin' out of you," she said. "He" (pointing to Gordon) "don't act as
if he was half-alive. I'm goin' to have my rights if I have to go to law
to git 'em. Doctor Gordon took away my boarder. And if I'd had him sick
and die to my house, I could have got extra. Now what I want is jest
this, an' I'm goin' to hev it, too! Doctor Gordon said Mr. Meserve
didn't have money. I don't know nothin' about that. I ain't went through
his pockets, but his trunk is to my house, and there's awful nice men's
clothes into it, and I mean to hev 'em. That ain't nothin' more'n fair.
That's what I hev came here for, jest as soon as I heard the poor man
had passed away. I left my daughter to git the breakfast for the
boarders, and I hev came here to see about that trunk, and hisn's
clothes."
Previous Page
| Next Page
|
|