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"Have the goodness to leave us," he added tartly, perceiving she did not stir, but continued her fearful, scrutinizing glance. She started at his altered tone, flushed crimson, then paled to a chalky whiteness, and muttering, left the apartment. "The danger of her mistress has bewildered her," I remarked. "Perhaps so," remarked Dr. Curteis. "Be that as it may, Mrs.
Curteis and Mr. the eminent surgeon entered the library at Mount Place the following morning after a long absence. "As I anticipated," replied the doctor with a choking voice: "she has been poisoned!" I started to my feet. "And the murderer?" "Our suspicions still point to young Bourdon; but the persons of both mother and son have been secured." "Apart?"
Curteis, because he, I know, is bitterly prejudiced against me. But you will not refuse, I think, the solemn request of a dying man for a dying man I feel myself to be however long or short the interval which stands between me and the scaffold.
But for the ineffaceable splendor of her deep-blue eyes, I should scarcely have recognized her. Standing in the shadow, as thrown by the heavy bed-drapery, we gazed and listened unperceived. "Ellen," murmured the dying lady, "come nearer to me. It is growing dark, and I cannot see you plainly. Now, then, read to me, beginning at the verse you finished with, as good Dr. Curteis entered.
Dinner had been over about half an hour one Sunday afternoon. the only day on which for years I had been able to enjoy a dinner and I was leisurely sipping a glass of wine, when a carriage drove rapidly up to the door, a loud rat-tat followed, and my friend Dr. Curteis, to my great surprise, was announced.
Curteis, with a perceptible tremor in his voice, "it will do neither of us any harm to witness the closing scene of the life of Mary Rawdon, whom you and I twenty years ago worshipped as one of the gentlest and most beautiful of beings with which the Creator ever graced his universe. It will be a peaceful parting. Come."
We were soon bowling along at a rapid pace, and in little more than an hour reached the dying lady's residence, situated in the county of Essex, and distant about ten miles from London. We entered together; and Dr. Curteis, leaving me in the library, proceeded at once to the sick chamber.
Curteis advanced gently towards the bed, and taking the daughter's hand, said in a low voice, "Had you not better retire, my dear young lady, for a few moments?" She understood him, and rising from her knees, threw herself in an ecstacy of grief upon the corpse, from which the spirit had just passed away. Assistance was summoned, and the sobbing girl was borne from the chamber.
Curteis, whom we met coming out of the chamber of the expiring patient. "Step this way," said he, addressing me, and leading to an adjoining apartment. "We do not require your attendance, Mrs. Bourdon," said he, as soon as we reached it, to the housekeeper, who had swiftly followed us, and now stood staring with eager eyes in the doctor's face, as if life and death hung on his lips.
She declares that The Lays were made “for remembrance” by “Le ancien Bretun curteis,” and that “Folks tell them to the harp and the rote, and the music is sweet to hear.” Doubtless it was this sweet music which both soothed and thrilled even before the words were understood, for on sad and festive days alike, the sweet lays of Brittany were always to be heard.
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