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Page 49
The weary eyes opened again. The sinking voice was heard feebly
once more.
"Ah! poor Frank. I didn't forget you, Frank, when I came here to
beg. I remembered you lying down outside in the shadow of the
boats. I saved you your share of the food and drink. Too weak to
get at it now! A little rest, Frank! I shall soon be strong
enough to carry you down to the ship."
The end was near. They all saw it now. The men reverently
uncovered their heads in the presence of Death. In an agony of
despair, Frank appealed to the friends round him.
"Get something to strengthen him, for God's sake! Oh, men! men! I
should never have been here but for him! He has given all his
strength to my weakness; and now, see how strong I am, and how
weak _he_ is! Clara, I held by his arm all over the ice and snow.
_He_ kept watch when I was senseless in the open boat. _His_ hand
dragged me out of the waves when we were wrecked. Speak to him,
Clara! speak to him!" His voice failed him, and his head dropped
on Wardour's breast.
She spoke, as well as her tears would let her.
"Richard, have you forgotten me?"
He rallied at the sound of that beloved voice. He looked up at
her as she knelt at his head.
"Forgotten you?" Still looking at her, he lifted his hand with an
effort, and laid it on Frank. "Should I have been strong enough
to save him, if I could have forgotten you?" He waited a moment
and turned his face feebly toward Crayford. "Stay!" he said.
"Someone was here and spoke to me." A faint light of recognition
glimmered in his eyes. "Ah, Crayford! I recollect now. Dear
Crayford! come nearer! My mind clears, but my eyes grow dim. You
will remember me kindly for Frank's sake? Poor Frank! why does he
hide his face? Is he crying? Nearer, Clara--I want to look my
last at _you_. My sister, Clara! Kiss me, sister, kiss me before
I die!"
She stooped and kissed his forehead. A faint smile trembled on
his lips. It passed away; and stillness possessed the face--the
stillness of Death.
Crayford's voice was heard in the silence.
"The loss is ours," he said. "The gain is his. He has won the
greatest of all conquests--the conquest of himself. And he has
died in the moment of victory. Not one of us here but may live to
envy _his_ glorious death."
The distant report of a gun came from the ship in the offing, and
signaled the return to England and to home.
End of Project Gutenberg Etext of The Frozen Deep, by Wilkie Collins*
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