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Page 66
Then he went out of the room. The screams had ceased. As James
approached the stair another door opened, and Clemency in a wrapper
looked out. She was very pale, her eyes were distended with fear, and
her mouth was trembling. "How is she?" she whispered.
"Better, dear. Go back in your room and lie down. We are doing all we
can."
When James entered the office Gordon and Mrs. Blair turned with one
accord, and fixed horribly searching eyes upon his face. He sat down
beside the table, and mechanically lit a cigar.
"How did she seem?" Gordon asked almost inaudibly.
"Better."
"Was she quiet?"
"Yes."
Gordon gave a long sigh. His face was deadly white. He leaned back in
his chair, and both James and the nurse sprang. They thought he had
fainted. While James felt his pulse Mrs. Blair got some brandy. Gordon
swallowed the brandy, and raised his head.
"It is nothing," he said in a harsh voice. "You had better go back to
her, Mrs. Blair."
A look of strange dread came over the woman's grave face.
"I will be there directly," said Gordon.
Mrs. Blair went out. She left the door ajar. The house was so still that
one could seem to hear the silence. There was something terrible about
it after the turmoil of sound. Then the silence was broken. A scream
more terrible than ever pierced it like a sword. Another came. Gordon
sprang up and faced James. The young man's eyes fell before the look of
fierce questioning in Gordon's.
"I could not," he gasped. "Oh, Doctor Gordon, I could not! Instead of
that I used water. I thought perhaps her mind being convinced that it
was morphine, she might--"
"Mind!" shouted Gordon. "Mind, how much do you suppose the poor,
tortured thing has to bring to bear upon this? I tell you she is being
eaten alive. There is no other word for it. Gnawed, and worried, and
eaten alive." Gordon ran out of the room.
James closed the door. The dog, who had been asleep beside the fire,
started up, came over to James, laid his white head on his knee and
whimpered, with an appealing look in his brown eyes, which were turned
toward the young man's face. Almost immediately Mrs. Blair entered the
room. She was very pale. "Doctor Gordon sent me down for the brandy,"
she said abruptly. She went to the table on which the brandy flask
stood, but she seemed in no hurry to take it.
"How is she?" asked James.
"I think she is a little quieter." The nurse stood staring at the fire
for a second longer. Then she took the brandy flask and went out with a
soft, but jarring, tread.
Doctor Gordon must have passed her on the stairs, for he returned almost
directly after she had left, and stood with his back to James, fussing
over some bottles on the shelves opposite the fireplace. He stood there
for some five minutes. James glancing over his shoulder saw that he was
trembling in a strange rigid fashion, but he seemed intent upon the
bottles. The house was very still again. Gordon at last seemed to have
finished whatever he was doing with the bottles. He left them and sat
down in his chair. The dog left James and went to him, but Gordon pushed
him away roughly. Then Gordon spoke to James without turning his face in
his direction. "I wish you would go upstairs," he said hoarsely. "Mrs.
Blair is alone, and I--I am about done too."
James obeyed without a word. When he reached the head of the stairs he
felt a sudden draught of cold wind. Mrs. Blair came out of the
sick-room, closing the door behind her. Her face looked as stern as fate
itself. James knew what had happened the moment he saw her.
James began to speak stammeringly, but she stopped him. "Call Doctor
Gordon," she said shortly. "She is dead."
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