When the smoke lifted, he was lying back in his chair as though he
had fallen asleep ...
"I think the worst was waiting for her to come down. I opened both
doors, but she never came. Then I shut them very quietly--and utterly
lost my head. You know what I did. I don't remember doing half. It was
the stupid cunning of a real madman, the broken window, and the things
up the chimney. I got back as I had come, in the way that struck you as
possible when you were there, and I woke my landlady getting in. I
believe I told her everything on the spot, and that it was the last
sense I spoke for weeks; she nursed me day and night that I might never
tell anybody else."
So the story ended, and with it, as might have been expected, the
unnatural strength which had sustained the teller till the last; he had
used up every ounce of it, and he lay exhausted and collapsed. Langholm
became uneasy.
Severino could not swallow the champagne which Langholm poured into his
mouth.
Langholm fetched the candle in high alarm--higher yet at what it
revealed.
Severino was struggling to raise himself, a deadly leaden light upon his
face.
"Raise me up--raise me up.
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